August 9, 2019 – 18:50 – Pollington and the Stampers are at it again. I got a warm welcome coming home from work. It was a long day, so I gave back what they were giving. Ron Stamper has a bit of a temper tantrum, and Richard Pollington is his usual self. (“The night you were born the doctor should have slapped your mother” … really? I think I stopped laughing at that joke somewhere around the age of eight or nine. Richard genuinely thought he was being funny. Well, he was, but not in the way he thought. I’m past feeling sorry for him. Of all the various types of bullies I’ve encountered in my life, the ones I despise most are the victims who become enablers, or bullies themselves. Richard has crossed that line. He just isn’t very good at it).
RS: You got a serious problem. You know that? You got a really serious problem.
PB: Says the guy who, uh, whose grandson is gonna have a convict for a daddy because his wife couldn’t keep his mouth shut.
PB: I said, says the guy whose grandson is gonna have a convict for a daddy because his wife couldn’t keep his mouth shut. Now you want to leave me the fuck alone, or do you want to banter back and forth?
RS: No, listen, okay? Do me a favour. I like my job. Okay?
PB: Good for you. Me too. So what?
RS: No, that’s why I can’t be bothered with you.
RP: You work?
PB: Yeah, Pollington I work.
PB: I don’t come and go every day dressed in a company uniform because I think it’s stylish.
RP: Ooh. Welfare gives you uniforms now?
RS: Rick, shut up.
PB: Anyway, you were saying Stamper?
PB: Or did you forget already?
RS: No. What I’m saying is get off my gr…get off my kid’s back. That’s all I’m saying.
PB: Get off your kid’s back?
PB: I didn’t even know the asshole and he assaulted me. All he had to do…
RS: With a cup of…
PB: All he had to do was keep his yap shut until his conditions were up.
RS: No…you…all you…shut up…Rick shut up. All you had to do was go in the fuckin’ house. But no you had to
RP: How are you Mister Bosch, are you having fun yet?
PB: That’s exactly what I did.
RS: No you didn’t, you sat there and provoked him like you’re doing to me now.
RP: You did provoke him.
RS: When you look in my wife’s window same thing.
PB: Stamper, you talked to me.
RS: Don’t call me fuckin’ Stamper. Name’s Ron.
PB: You’re all the same to me.
RS: You’re a piece of shit to me too. You get the fuck in your apartment.
PB: Isn’t that where your kid started that night?
RP: Go where you’re wanted.
RS: Hey! You bring that up once fuckin’ more you little asshole. You’re a fucking, nothing but a little fucking shit. I fuck work longer than you’d ever fuckin’ know.
PB: Good for you. And? How is that relevant to this conversation?
RS: ‘Cause you’re a fucking asshole.
RP: Ha ha.
RS: You’re an asshole, a pervert, a peeping tom.
RS: I hope you’re recording all this.
RP: He is.
RS: ‘Cause the cop said, my opinion, I don’t get in trouble for. Fuck off.
PB: Hmmm. But you are going to get in trouble if you keep volunteering it uninvited. I’ve asked you repeatedly not to communicate with me.
RS: You stood there and stared at me. I don’t like that.
PB: No I stood here finishing my cigarette, which I’m still doing.
RS: You stood there like this (crosses his arms).
RS: You did the same thing on the corner the other night I was home.
PB: Well Mr Pollington supposedly has cameras all around here, how ’bout we have a look at the cameras?
RS: This ain’t got nothing to do with Rick. The other week you just stood over there and stared at me. You walked by me three times there goin’ to the store. You stared at he house. You don’t have to look this way. You go walking that way you look straight,
RS: Stamper…Stamper nobody tells me where I can look, and nobody tells me where I can fucking walk, in a place that I have a right to be. Okay?
RS: Don’t look at my house when you’re doing it.
PB: I get to look where I want, Stamper.
RS: You walk like this not like this . That’s how you’re walkin’
PB: Stamper I get to walk and look wherever I like.
RS: Call me fuckin’ Stamper one more fuckin’ time.
PB: You said that two or three times ago, Stamper.
PB: Oh shut your fucking mouth and go upstairs.
RP: Go where you’re wanted.
RS: And get the fuck out of my face.
PB: I’m not in your face. I’m standing on my deck having a cigarette.
RS: You’re a fuck…you started this fuckin’ shit.
PB: No, you did.
RS: Yeah. I just said you got a problem. Because I don’t like people staring at me.
RS: Well then stop acting in a manner that causes them to stare at you.
PB: Fuck. I was cleaning my god damn fucking windows.
RS: And speaking to me uninvited.
RS: Shut the fuck up. Are you gonna bitch about that too?
PB: Why would I bitch about you cleaning your windows?
RS: Shove it up your ass you jerk.
RS: You’re fucking pushin’ it.
PB: No, I’m standin’ on my front deck havin’ a smoke.
RS: Hey, listen. You got such a sarcastic smile on your face, someday somebody’s gonna wipe it off.
PB: Well, you do know what a spherical camera is, don’t you?
RS: I don’t give a fuck what you got. Now I told you three fuckin’ times. Get the fuck in there and get out of my face.
PB: Well that just guarantees I’m gonna hang round on this deck until I’m damn well ready to leave.
RS: Good! Fine! Look like a fuckin’ pervert.
PB: So if you wouldn’t mind just stop talking to me and I’ll just admire the scenery.
RS: Oh, you’re gay too now? That’s pretty good.
RS: Nobody wants you.
PB: Uh huh.
RS: Well now I hope they put you in fuckin; jail.
PB: For what?
RS: Being an asshole.
RP: He is being an asshole.
PB: If that’s a crime, you two would be doing time.
RS: You couldn’t put me in jail if you fuckin’ tried, jerk. Wanna try it? Try it.
PB: Stamper, I’ve asked you to stop talking to me. Please stop talking to me, okay?
PB: I don’t want to hear from you.
he’s an asshole
RP: Let him run at the fuckin’ mouth.
RP: You wanna pick that up?
RS: Rick, shut up!
RP: You wanna pick that up
PB: Pick what up? The butt I just threw in the can?
RP: yeah, yeah, yeah, that.
PB: It’s a butt can. That’s where cigarette butts are supposed to go.
RP: right there.
RS: Don’t talk to him.
PB: Not seein’ it.
RS: The guy’s got mental issues.
LN: Rick, shut up.
RP: The night that he was born they should have slapped his fuckin’ mother.
RS: Rick, SHUT UP!
PB: What was that Pollington, I didn’t quite catch it.
RS: He didn’t say nothin’. You’re not here.
RP: You’re not even there. You don’t even fuckin’ exist.
RS: Rick, SHUT UP! (screamed)
LN: You’re just playin’ into him man.
RS: Asshole. He just fucks up people’s lives.
PB: You gotta speak up a little there Pollington. The audio’s not so good in this camera.
August 9, 2019 – 23:14 – A bit later I went out on the front deck for a smoke and to wait for a friend to come by (didn’t want him hassled, and he knows the situation here), and the circus began again.
I’m just sick and tired of Ron Stamper’s tired old mantra of “if it weren’t for my job, I’d kick your ass” or words to that effect (I’ve heard it half a dozen times, at least). If he really wants to settle his beef with me that way, what the hell. So he has my consent to fight, the only stipulations being that 1) the fight is lensed by me 2) no weapons (defined as anything not permanently attached to either of our bodies, excluding soft clothing and soft footware which we both wear) 3) it’s done at a mutually agreeable time 4) one-on-one. At least I might get some peace and quiet after, while he heals up. If he takes me up on it, I’ll post the video.
And Ron Stamper’s story that I was looking in “his” window the “day you had him charged” (meaning Jeremy Stamper on November 23, 2018) doesn’t quite fit the facts.
Remember the photo of the rotting pumpkin I took on November 22, 2018? This one:
It was taken the day before Jeremy was charged. The windows in the upper left in the photo are the Stampers’ two front bedroom windows. Since I had approached the building from the front on November 23, 2018 those were the only two windows of the Stampers’ apartment visible to me. Christina Stamper approached me on the east side of the building (and in the video 2018-11-23 – Assault by Jeremy Stamper – 20181123_130015 – subtitled you can hear her say at 1:08 “I just got back from Rick’s” to her husband Ron Stamper. She came out of the front door we share with Richard Pollington, not the one on the other side of the building.)
The window on the right clearly can’t be used by a peeping tom, or anybody else (as a window). There are towels stuffed in the gaps, and plastic covering the window inside. The frames are in nearly as bad shape as the ones in our unit, from what I can see. There’s also a sheet covering the window from the inside. So, it obviously wasn’t this window.
The other window has the towels around the panes visible (place there to stop cold air coming in) but doesn’t show the heavy black curtain/blanket hung over the window. You can’t “look in” either window, at least not in the winter.
So I called Agostino to complain (pro forma, I really don’t expect any results, and got none). Agostino did mention that it was a police matter and to tell them when they got here. So, either Christina Stamper did call the cops or she told Agostino she did.
I really don’t feel like waiting around for the cops all night yet again, so I called police non-emergency number and spoke to the civilian dispatcher who answers that line. She took my information, a listened to a brief summary of the situation (I kept it simple; nutty neighbors phoning in another nuisance complaint) and told her to have the cops call me if/when they were showing up. I had (at the time) no idea where I’d be later tonight (long story). I’ll post those conversations once I’ve had a chance to edit our personal information (mine). I just don’t feel like it at the moment.
Anyway, when my friend showed up we talked about things are are really nobody’s business for a couple of hours, then he left.
I escorted him to the side of the building (where his vehicle was parked) wearing the body camera (in IR mode with the IR LEDs lit up, nice picture) when he left. Ron Stamper was outside. There were no incidents, so no need to post the video.
If/When the cops show up/call, I’ll just direct them to this blog, and go back to sleep. Should save everybody some time. The entire video is available to law enforcement if any of you wants the context of that clip. Or any other clip posted here. I think I’ll just start archiving these raw videos on youtube. Storage space for video is becoming an issue.
It’s Friday night and I feel like going out. Hess Street on a summer Friday night is quieter and more civilized than this place. It’s going to be a long weekend….