Tiequon "Lil Fee" Cox of the Rollin Sixties since 1986

[WLA PALMS]

Monster also mentioned in his book that lil Fee couldn't fight and was a scary coward, who's eyes changed colors whenever he got scared or mad.

[WLA PALMS]

oh ok i'm sure u'v been to prison right? aint shit a leg stabbin go do to a nigga, lil pee luccy tookie wuzn't ready for that gay shit or that nigga woulda already been dead by now

actually family...I kno a dude from that got killed up here in the bay cause he was shot in the leg...there is an major artery somewhere on ya inner thigh by yo nuts (no homo), that if severed it can cause u to bleed to death with in 10 ta 15 minutes if not
treated in that time perameter. If u think I'm lyin look that shyt up or ask somebody who is a doctor to confirm.

Yeah, that artery is called your femoral artery, but if lil Fee really wanted to kill Tookie, or cause any REAL , serious damage, he would have aimed for the neck, or anywhere in the chest cavity, like a real killa would! LMAO!

[AllhoodPublications]

First of all Wattscrackin, westcoast, dubtz, purpleman, watts angeles, wattsworld, purplepeopleeaters, purpleslurpeemonster, and many others are the same person. You can tell by his obsession with Grape Street & houncho, and his hatred for Bloods, 60s and Lil Fee. You can also tell how he is always aggressive and disrespectful.. and always calling out Alonso. He has almost as many personalities and screen names than he does IP addresses.

he also the one who got his ass whooped by Stagalee from ETG, he didnt stab tookie he missed.....

Wrong & Wrong again.

He is no legend. This kid was basically a punk (if you knew him). He joined 60's to be somebody. Nobody knew him outside the hood

I wonder why Monster was so obsessed with him in the Youth Authority if no one knew him. I wonder why Monster remembers him shooting back at him @ the street races, and details about his eyes, and his demeanor since nobody knew him.

Damn.. he even had RSC on his neck before Blacks were putting their hood on their neck. Look at the 1984 video or photograph in court and you will see it.

I guess Monster wasnt outside the hood. I guess you will tell me the same about the IFG's. As long as your border enemies know who you are thats all that counts. Everyone else is irrelevant!

Just to share a couple stories about this dude..

Stagalee (from ETG) beat Lil Fee in prison and Lil Fee told on him..

Lil Fee has never been to Adult Prison until he went to death Row, and Stagalee was never on Death Row. You're story is all twisted up... it was the L.A. county jail crip module and Lil Fee beat up multiple people at the same time! He knows Martial Arts real well.

His arrest on multiple murders was his first adult arrest.

He was already in jail for a gun case, waiting to be released when he was booked on this case. So it was actually his second case as an adult, and fresh out of YA.

Yeah, that artery is called your femoral artery, but if lil Fee really wanted to kill Tookie, or cause any REAL , serious damage, he would have aimed for the neck, or anywhere in the chest cavity, like a real killa would! LMAO!

In YOUR scenario does this article below make him a "real killa"?

SAN QUENTIN, Calif. — While gang wars raged on the streets of Los Angeles, a little noticed though violent series of attacks broke out among members of the Crips gang imprisoned on San Quentin's Death Row, prison officials say.

The battle reached its height last October when Tiequon A. Cox, who was in the Rolling 60s faction of the Crips in Los Angeles, stabbed and wounded Stanley (Tookie) Williams, a body builder who helped found the gang 20 years ago.

Williams has denied any continuing role in Crip activity on or off the row. And Colleen E. Butler, Cox's attorney, noted that in prison, "what appears to be the case is not always what happened."

Dozen Inmates Penalized

Nevertheless, Jeannie Ballatore, legal affairs coordinator at San Quentin, said in an interview, "We believe it was a power struggle between the Crips." Prison documents state that the attack was one of several assaults among Crips last year. It prompted prison officials to confine more than a dozen suspected Crip members and associates on Death Row to "Grade B" status, where some remain.

As Grade B inmates, they are denied various items and privileges, and are allowed 10 hours a week out of their cells on exercise yards. That is a third of the exercise time given condemned inmates who have not caused major problems.

By attacking Williams, 36, the 23-year-old Cox took on a man thought by San Quentin officials to be the leader of most of the 20 to 30 Crips who are under a sentence of death.

In Los Angeles, law enforcement authorities on gangs viewed Cox as part of a new generation of violent Crips.

Williams remains a part of the lore of the streets in Los Angeles a decade after his capture. Even detectives who work on gang-related crime recall with some nostalgia the days when they could turn to Crips leadership to help quell disputes before someone was murdered.

"When he was out here, there was some control," said Herbert Giron, a Los Angeles County sheriff's deputy who specializes in gang work in Operation Safe Streets. "There weren't all these factions. I wish it were still true. We wouldn't have all these killings."

Most gang members on Death Row put aside differences, knowing that any prison rule infraction can haunt them if their sentences are overturned on appeal and they are retried. That made the eruption of the recent violence all the more unusual.

Details of the Crips power struggle were pieced together from interviews with officers and documents filed in a federal court hearing over prison conditions earlier this year.


Allegedly Ordered Attack

The attorney general's office filed the documents to justify the prison's decision to place the inmates on Grade B status and revoke their privileges. Inmates' lawyers protested introduction of the documents, saying they were incomplete and inaccurate. A federal hearing officer is considering whether the prison violated the inmates' rights by revoking their privileges.

According to one of the documents, the struggle began when Williams ordered Cox to stab another Death Row inmate, Darren Williams, apparently because Stanley Williams suspected Darren had been an informant. Darren Williams also is on the row for his role in the murder of Alexander's family members.

Cox refused the alleged order and instead, on Oct. 10, slashed Stanley Williams as Williams walked past an outdoor shower in an exercise yard.

A gun officer ordered everyone on the yard to "freeze," and Cox tossed the 4 1/2-inch blade onto a basketball court. Williams, bleeding from a neck wound, refused to talk to officers. The report quoted Williams as saying simply: "I don't know what happened. I don't remember."

In the report stating why Williams was confined to Grade B status, Lt. Melford Hamilton cited "numerous violent incidents" involving Crips members and identified Williams as a Crips leader.

'Bigger Than Life' Figure

"A more controlled environment appears warranted," Hamilton concluded.

Not long after the attack, word reached the streets of Los Angeles that Tookie had been "killed," Giron said, adding that prison news gets "down here faster than the U.S. mail."

"You'd be surprised how many of the youngsters 'know' Tookie," Giron said. "I know they don't. It's the folklore they know. You say, Tookie, and people know that name all over the county. . . . He is bigger than life to some of these kids."

[alexalonso]

Yes, Lil Fee was arrested once before as an adult. When he was arrested he was 18 year and 9 months old, so he was an adult for a short time. He also did 2 and half years as a minor. Not sure if it was YA or camp or a combination of both. From some recent research I have been doing, he started claiming 60s in 1979 when he was at Horace Mann Junior High School. When you look back at his career on the streets as a 60s members, it was perhaps just a little over 1 year, because he spent most of the time between 14 - 18 years in custody.

I attached a photo from court which would have been taken when he was arraigned in 1984 or when he was sentenced in early 1986. He was sent to San Quentin in May 1986 so he was 20 years old in that pic but he turned 21 later that year. He was born in 1965.

[alexalonso]

This is a pic of Tiequon "Lil Fee" Cox taken in San Quentin in the late 1990s, maybe in 1997 or 1998. If the date of the photo is 1998, then he is about 32 or 33 in the pic. Anyone know?

[alexalonso]

This is a pic of Tiequon "Lil Fee" Cox taken in San Quentin in the late 1990s, maybe in 1997 or 1998. If the date of the photo is 1998, then he is about 32 or 33 in the pic. Anyone know? He is currently 46 years old and even though they dont have weights in California prisons anymore, I heard that he exercises everyday on the yard.

[alexalonso]

Lil Fee's name has been coming up alot in the media because the Steve Cooley wants him executed before the election on the death penalty, and the victim's son, Mr. Alexander has been doing radio commercials against Prop 34 to abolish the death penalty.

Mr. Alexander was also on the Larry Elder radio show talking about Lil fee's crimes recently.

[Glow1]

Mr. alexander sues the State of California to have Tiequon executed


ANGELES (NBC) -- Former NFL star Kermit Alexander was so full of rage after gang members murdered his mother, sister and two nephews in 1984 that he prowled the streets of Los Angeles at night, bent on finding the culprits and exacting vengeance.

The ex-athlete — who was a first-round draft pick in 1963 and spent 10 years in the pros — says the only reason he didn't become a killer himself is because then-Mayor Tom Bradley made him promise to give up his hunt and let the legal process run its course.

The police eventually did find the gunman, who was convicted and sentenced to death. But three decades later, Tiequon Cox is still alive, along with 750 other California killers whose executions are bogged down in endless litigation and political opposition. No other state has more inmates on death row.

"It galls me," Alexander said. "The people of California have said over and over again that they want this kind of punishment for the worst criminals."

So Alexander, 74, decided that once again, he would take matters into his own hands — this time with a lawsuit demanding the state put in place an execution protocol and end Cox's life with a lethal injection.

Earlier this month, he notched a victory when a Superior Court judge ruled he had standing to bring the action, paving the way for a hearing on the merits of the unusual suit in the coming weeks.

"I don't like people getting in the way of the rule of law," he said.

Across the country, capital punishment is in a shambles. Drug makers have refused to sell their wares to prisons, which have turned to controversial compounding pharmacies and untested chemical cocktails to fill their syringes.

There were issues with at least three 2014 executions, including the botched lethal injection of an Oklahoma man who woke up mid-procedure. The Justice Department is reviewing, and now the U.S. Supreme Court has decided to weigh in.

California has been spared these recent problems. Voters approved the death penalty in 1978, but the state executed just 13 murderers before a federal judge halted lethal injections in 2006, finding the three-drug combo could cause excruciating pain.

The state has failed to come up with a one-drug injection, and last year another federal judge ruled that delays that keep prisoners in limbo for years violate the constitutional protection against cruel and unusual punishment.

The governor, Jerry Brown, opposes the death penalty, as does the state attorney general, Kamala Harris. A 2012 referendum to repeal capital punishment, Proposition 34, failed, but by a narrow margin.

"There are a lot of hurdles that have to be overcome in California before they can execute anyone," said Richard Dieter of the Death Penalty Information Center.

That gnaws at Alexander, who says his whole life changed the instant he got the call that his loved ones had been shot execution-style by a blundering hitman who targeted the wrong house in the tough Los Angeles neighborhood of Watts.

Alexander — whose memoir, "Valley of the Shadow of Death," will be published in September — grew up in Watts and became a football star at UCLA. He went on to play for the '49ers, the Rams and the Eagles.

At the time of the murders, he was 44 years old, raising children, retired as the president of the NFL Players Association. His son and his brother — he's one of 11 kids — were playing football together at his alma mater and he had just nailed down a gig as a color commentator for the Bruins.

"Life was good," he said.

His mother, Ebora Alexander, was still living in Watts. She was sitting at her kitchen table, drinking coffee in her nightgown and slippers, when two members of the Rollin' 60 Crips stormed in and shot her in the head.

Her 23-year-old daughter, Dietra, was shot between the eyes while she sat up in bed and screamed. Two grandchildren, 8-year-old Damon Bonner and 10-year-old Damani Garner, were asleep when the assassin put bullets in their head.

"It changed everything. It took me from a peace-loving person to being a prospective killer," said Alexander, who had to identify the bodies. "One of the reasons I was able to set aside my vengeance was that the rule of law was supposed to prevail."

It took two months for police to arrest Cox, who was sentenced to death in 1986. His accomplices are serving life without parole.

Alexander said he ended up in an emotional prison for years. His first marriage fell apart, he lost his job and got into debt. He met another woman, Tami Clark, but his bottled-up demons drove them apart after a decade.

Adrift for several years, Alexander eventually returned to Tami, who by then had decided to adopt an orphan from Haiti. After the 2010 quake, they brought the little boy, and his four siblings, home to Riverside, California.

Raising five kids gave Alexander a new outlook, but there was still unfinished business from the past.

In 2012, Kermit and Tami campaigned against Proposition 34, which would have repealed the death penalty and been applied retroactively to Cox and the hundreds of others on death row. Through their activism they met Kent Scheidigger of the Criminal Justice Legal Foundation, which supports capital punishment.

Last November, Scheidigger filed a lawsuit on behalf of Alexander and a man whose whose sister was raped and murdered, arguing they have been denied justice because the state has failed to carry out the convicts' sentences.

The attorney general's office countered that the victims' relatives didn't have standing to bring the action, but the judge disagreed. The next step is for the court to decide whether to compel the state to come up with new lethal-injection standards.

A spokesman for the California Department of Correction and Rehabilitation said he could not comment on pending litigation but gave a general statement about the death-penalty delays:

"At the governor's direction, CDCR has been developing proposed regulations for a single-drug protocol in order to ensure that California's laws on capital punishment are upheld. However, nationwide, there is a problem with access to execution drugs and that is complicating efforts."

The attorneys who handled Cox's appeals did not return requests for comment, and his family could not be reached for comment. In his appeals, he argued that he was not the actual killer and was manipulated into participating. His trial lawyers presented not opening or closing statement, focusing instead on trying to convince the jury to spare his life in the penalty phase.

Capital-punishment opponents have argued that death sentences don't bring closure for victims' relatives, but prolong their agony for years or even decades, substituting revenge for resolution.

Alexander said he doesn't see it that way. If California had not had the death penalty in 1984 and Cox had been sentenced to life without parole, he would have accepted that. What he can't accept, he said, is the idea that the hired gun won't face the punishment a jury of his peers thought he deserved.

"It's not about the revenge," he said. "It's about the law."

[Glow1]

Sadly, his mother died the year before last. Losing his mom while in prison was extremely hard.

I feel for Mr. Alexander. I can't imagine the pain he's gone through, but killing Fee won't bring his family back. It's a sad situation all the way around.

[grundy]

In tookies book he said Fee told him C Dog was an informant, that nigga told on Fee and is still in prison. fail

[Gloss]

In tookies book he said Fee told him C Dog was an informant, that nigga told on Fee and is still in prison. fail

Is C Dog, Darren Williams?

If so, he's a got website up looking for donations for his legal fees. Kermit Alexander is aware of the site and of course he isn't happy about it.

[attila]

From an interview with Kermit Alexander, about lil Fee as an eight year old:

Gangs were everywhere, and they were more violent now. They were recruiting in junior high schools and even grammar schools, looking for badasses.
If a kid didn't have a dad, the Crips gladly played the role. Gang members bankrolled kids, lent them cars, let them have sex with Crippettes.
Kermit talked to people in the streets; he knew why the young kids were straying.
So he and one of his brothers-in-law co-founded a Pop Warner football team, the Watts Wildcats.
Kids who were on the fence could play football instead of gangbanging, and Kermit even brought his team to Rams games to show them what was possible.

In the early and mid-'70s, Kermit went to as many Pop Warner games as he could -- it was cleansing -- and one player stood out to him more than any other. The kid played for another team in South Central L.A., and although the player was only about 8 years old and 4-foot-nothing, he kept winding up in the end zone. He was swifter, more instinctive and more physical than anyone else on the field, and, frankly, he reminded Kermit of himself.
And when Kermit saw the kid's temper, he had a full-on déjá vu.
At one point in a game, this kid -- Tiequon Cox -- spiked a ball after a bad call, then picked it up and threw it at the referee.
He punched a teammate in the back for missing a block and cursed his coach for not finding better linemen.
Eventually, he had to be physically dragged off the field, and someone in the stands told the kid to put a sock in it.
Tiequon nearly climbed the stairs to fight.

It hit home for Kermit. Twenty-odd years earlier, he'd had his own meltdown, with his father yanking him off the field.
This kid needed an intervention, too. Up in the stands, Kermit rose up and proclaimed, "Somebody needs to do something with that kid, he's too good a ballplayer to be like that. Somebody ought to help him."
Everyone nodded, but not one lifted a finger, Kermit included.
Had Ebora been at the game, he says she would've ordered him down to the field, and he would've said, "Yes, ma'am."
He would've gone to the sideline to assist the coaches, would've tried to be a friend to the kid.
He would've driven to the kid's school and checked in with his teachers.
He would've become a mentor, would've taken him to meet other pro players, would've kept daily tabs on him.
Instead, Kermit did nothing. "I was a star," he says. "I had too much to do. All I did was talk about it. I didn't check in with anybody. I left."
Worst decision of his life.

Lil Fee - 7th grade Horace Mann

[attila]

Lil Fee and Tookie

[Word]

download/file.php?mode=view&id=3075

[Gloss]

Still has those braids. Looks pretty much the same

[alexalonso]

Tiequon Cox in 2010 photo at age 45. Not sure of the date of the other photo,

[grundy]

12105198_989383301103521_552814786_n (1).jpg (21.04 KiB) Viewed 15859 times