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The KnuckleHeadz in Whittier<\/p>\n
(Dick Slaughter)<\/p>\n
Founded in June 2021 by frontman Thomas Telles of Whittier, better known as Knucklehead Tom, and with the help of guitarist and tattooer Steven Arceo, aka Saus, of El Monte, the Punk Rock Fight Club (PRFC) has grown in a few years to six chapters and more than 200 members across Southern California. What started as a tight circle around a band hardened into a movement: discipline for kids who never got it, structure for men who need it, and a community without substance abuse . Prospects earn their way through mornings, sweat and commitment before they\u2019re trusted with the skull back patch. The rules read like a brick wall and function like a doorway.<\/p>\n
\u201cI started the club because I wanted to do good in the scene,\u201d Knucklehead Tom said \u201cI wanted to create a tribe where we all supported each other, a family for people from all walks of life, especially those who came from broken homes. I wanted people to know they have somewhere to go and a family they can count on.\u201d<\/p>\n
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Knucklehead Tom of The KnuckleHeadz puts his mic in to the crowd while performing with the band from Whittier.<\/p>\n
(Dick Slaughter)<\/p>\n
I first ran into the KnuckleHeadz and a few club members by accident three years ago in a London train station en route to the Rebellion Punk Rock Music Festival in Blackpool, a yearly event featuring more than 300 veteran and emerging bands. They were impossible to miss \u2014 part wolf pack, part brotherhood, pure energy. That year the KnuckleHeadz struck a chord with me, not just through their all-in, no-holds-barred performances, but also through their message, their obvious love for one another and their mission to better their community. Since then, I have taken a hard look inside both the band and the club; I visited their gym and attended many of their shows. I have met and talked with families and those the KnuckleHeadz and the club have helped. They have indeed, in many cases, worked miracles. But the guys don\u2019t call them miracles. They call it Tuesday.<\/p>\n
\u201cSince we founded Punk Rock Fight Club, we paved way for what we knew was the movement and lifestyle many people in our scene needed,\u201d Arceo said. \u201cWe\u2019ve changed so many lives and with that our lives changed as well. We made a family built on brotherhood, loyalty with the camaraderie that can only be achieved through martial arts and punk rock. That\u2019s something many of us grew up without. So to be able to bring this into the world is worth every sacrifice. We\u2019re going on five years strong and will keep going till the day we die.\u201d<\/p>\n
The band\u2019s ascent mirrors the spread of the club: a steady climb from underground slots to punk\u2019s biggest stages. They earned a place on the final NOFX show<\/a> and graduated from Rebellion\u2019s side stage to the festival\u2019s main stage. They\u2019ve organized benefits for causes that don\u2019t trend and for people who can\u2019t afford to be causes. The Punk Rock Museum in Las Vegas recently added a piece of PRFC memorabilia, one of the club\u2019s cuts \u2014 a leather vest with the skull back patch \u2014 to its collection, a true museum piece that still smells faintly of sweat. Next, KnuckleHeadz prepare for a U.S. run with punk legends GBH, the sort of tour that turns rumor into r\u00e9sum\u00e9.<\/p>\n Saus, co-founder of the KnuckleHeadz, wearing the band\u2019s signature vest.<\/p>\n The Whittier dojo, KnuckleHead Martial Arts, is where the KnuckleHeadz code gets practical. It\u2019s where guys run martial arts drills and where the mats serve double duty as community center flooring. During the band\u2019s \u201cF Cancer\u201d benefit for 17-year-old Cesar \u201cLittle Cesar\u201d Lopez II, the driveway became an impromptu slam pit. Inside, kids tumbled on the mats while guitars shook the walls. Families brought food, local businesses donated services, and more than $6,000 went toward treatments. In the carnival-like atmosphere outside, Little Cesar grinned and hyped the pit from the sideline, proving that joy, like violence, can be contagious.<\/p>\n One member, Bernard Schindler, 55, of La Mirada, came in after a life of ricochets: rehab, prison, relapse, repeat. The club gave him a schedule first and a future second, and now with the support of the club, he\u2019s been clean and sober for more than two years. <\/p>\n Saus performing with the KnuckleHeadz during a Punk Rock Fight Club benefit show outside the KnuckleHeadz gym in Whittier.<\/p>\n (Dick Slaughter)<\/p>\n \u201cTom and the Punk Rock Fight Club completely turned my life around,\u201d Schindler said. \u201cIt gave me purpose, discipline and a new family of brothers that push me to be better. I went from being a broken down drug addict to the healthiest I\u2019ve ever been mentally, physically and emotionally in the 55 years I\u2019ve been alive.\u201d<\/p>\n Since getting involved with the KnuckleHeadz nearly three years ago, Schindler says he\u2019s gotten closer to his family, including his three sons and his girlfriend, in addition to staying sober. \u201cI can honestly say that I couldn\u2019t have done it without Tom and our God-given club, the Punk Rock Fight Club,\u201d he said.<\/p>\n The bassist known as Knucklehead Randy performs while riding on the shoulders of a fellow club member at a benefit show in Whittier.<\/p>\n (Dick Slaughter)<\/p>\n The PRFC trophy case is full of medals and awards, sure, but the real accomplishments are much quieter and miraculous. There are pay stubs where rap sheets used to be, text threads that start with the question \u201cYou good?\u201d at 3:17 a.m., and apartment keys handed over when a kid can\u2019t go home.<\/p>\n <\/p>\n
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