After trying out various names, he settled on one stemming from the Japanese science fiction superhero, “Ultraman,” a show he used to watch. As a teenager, he toyed with tagging while frequenting downtown clubs. When Walker turned 16 years old, he said he ran away from there too.īut it was on train rides between New Hampshire and Washington that Walker saw graffiti splashed on the tunnels and walls, peaking his interest.
Eventually, his behavior landed him with a relative in New Hampshire who Walker says physically abused him. He described his home life as unsteady, becoming more so once his parents separated.Īs a kid, he often ran away or snuck out of the house at night to wander. When he was a child, his family moved to Washington, where his brother and sister were born. The oldest of three, Asad Walker was born John Holland Walker in Baltimore. “I started painting on the street in the early ’80s,” Walker told one of his classes last year. He makes a living teaching art and has become one of the area’s foremost authorities in graffiti-style art without the intent of vandalism. He’s not proud of everything he did in his time on the streets and does not downplay crimes from his past, saying he “should have been buried under the jail.” Today Walker is different. Even the graffiti community lost a major hero with the death of Cool “Disco” Dan, well-known among taggers and one of Walker’s close friends. There was former Mayor Marion Barry, go-go godfather Chuck Brown and news anchor Jim Vance, all of whom have died in recent years. Walker is of an era represented by some of the city’s legendary figures. Or as one current member and muralist put it: “Everyone softens up when you get older.” They’re more likely to come up with designs for murals or crafting canvas art than “bombing,” a term for blanketing an area with tags. Crews like KGB have evolved, former members said. In much of the city, traditional graffiti has given way to street art, a more tamed, often legal version of the activity. But “yo, s- has changed!” the 51-year-old Walker recently said. The crew is still organized and remains one of the oldest in the District of Columbia. His crew, KGB, often referred to as Krazy Graffiti Brothers, was one of the most feared among vandals at the time. His tag was found in thousands of places.
Walker was a graffiti king in Washington, D.C., during the 1990s.