Jack grew up one step ahead of the law in a rough neighborhood in Trenton, New Jersey in the early '80s. He wasn't the callous criminal many of his peers were but his anger at the raw deal he'd been handed got him into trouble before too long, though he had a talent for not getting caught for anything really bad. His luck ran out, though, and he was brought before a judge for something he couldn't get away with with only a month and good behavior. The judge gave him an option and he ended up enlisting in the Navy for as long as they'd let him, thinking he'd at least get out of town and see the world.
Ship drudgery and discipline spoiled those dreams, though, and he started getting in trouble again. He had no purpose and no vision and a lifetime of frustration ahead of him. He was sitting in a dive bar on a rare shore-leave when a local punk band took the stage and changed his life. Punk wasn't the missing piece to a puzzle, though. It was the inspiration to say "to hell" with the puzzle, toss the pieces in the trash, and just live. In one night he became a deserter, punk, Elegbara, and avowed Iku all at once.
He acted as roadie for a dozen seminal punk bands before joining a few bands himself. He loved how the growing wave of Punk made society nervous while he mourned the changes. He worked against the neo-Nazis that tried to steal the genre and he got his nickname, "Black Train," from his ability to plow through opponents as much as his need to be on the road.
Eventually Grumpdom caught up with him and he went home to Jersey. (Everything's legal in Jersey.) He continues to book shows, give advice to bands, and support the music he loves. He draws Glamour from the joyous frenzy of the mosh pit as much as from the ideology of the lyrics. He's an avowed anarchist and sees the Sidhe as being as bad, if not worse, than the mortal powers that be. He's wanted for several crimes of various degree but the knights sent to collect him always seem to get the worst mosh pit when they think they have him. So, unless he does something really outrageous, the courts have decided to leave him in peace. He also acts as a mentor and mouthpiece for may young Iku.
Most nights he can be found working the door as DisHarmony, a small midtown bar that he made famous for rowdy Thursday night punk shows, telling stories, and joking with the kids while bouncing the ones who come to start trouble. While he's a decade or more older than most of the punks who come through, he's not afraid of loosing touch or growing old. Chances are most Concordian Iku have heard a CD by one of his many bands.