Massacre at Musolf Manor (Revised Version)

Picture credits to the following: iix3starscapex3.tumblr.com, and to a woman posing for a "Macbeth" theater performance which was an ad in The Oregonian on February 15th, 2013

February 12th, 2013 is a day I will never.......EVER................... forget!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!


When I received my housing in late December, of 2011, a few days before Christmas, I was excited and ecstatic. I had just graduated from a six week tenant "know your rights" education course, called "Rentwell".

It is a program provided by Transition Projects for any individual to enroll into and receive education (as well as a certificate valued at $2,000 for future coverage expenses of rental damages) in anticipation for housing.

Mackenzie Peterson, of Transition Housing was my instructor throughout the entire time until graduation. Throughout the time I was homeless on Hoyt St, I'd go inside the "Day Center" during drop-in hours to place my belongings in their lockers, and get them out before closing time. This was the rule to prevent any abuse of this privilege. She was often there to present a warm smile, guidance, and encouragement to me to "hang in there."

(Like SO many friends, comrades, supporters, associates, and hell, maybe even enemies.)

As if it was that simple for say for one or those who lacks Post Traumatic Stress Disorder. For me, it ALWAYS appear to hit SO close to home!

Tamara White (often called "Tammy" by many) a female neighbor of mine, in the approx. early morning hours of 1:00 a.m. was sprawled outside her doorway, just down my hallway. Last year when Tammy moved to Musolf Manor last year, I didn't say much to her at all, other than a friendly nod and brief exchanges of "hello and goodbye". She once asked me if I had any"tick tacks for her wall upon her arrival. Being a good neighbor, I didn't have any, but I did give her 2$ to go purchase some.

At times, she would ask for me to buzz her in the elevator, where she (among other tenants) allege or claim to have "lost their flab." I would do this always as a complete courtesy to her being very sensitive and sympathetic towards her condition. (which I will keep confidential at this time as well.......unless dear reader you check out my Facebook posts)

Tammy was released from the hospital (I believe was Emmanuel) in December. I asked a female desk clerk if we could all put together a welcome back card for her recovery. Following her release, we became friends.............or so I thought!

NO GOOD DEED GOES UNPUNISHED. (AIN'T THAT THE FK@##!@!!!@ TRUTH!!!!

When I came up to her and asked what was up, she immediately asked if I could "keep her company." This made me feel rather uncomfortable considering that she has a relationship with another man, and I don't really feel comfortable with that...........especially having her in my room. Tammy also asked me to "accompany her" upstairs to give a friend of her's back her boots.
Suspicious, I asked her to get her boyfriend upstairs to my room, immediately!

He came upstairs, and I explained to him the situation, and my curiosity. Although he "approved" I kept my guards up. When she was talking with me, I had my door opened for the most part.

(I'm SO glad that I did!)

After leaving a couple of beers in my room, (one half-consumed, the other un-opened) she accompanied me to my room where I needed to use the restroom. We were heading to a local neighborhod store to get a six pack of beer. Out of respect for her, I had my door closed. When I came out, Tammy was literally pouring my baby powder I use for my shoes in her "area."

I looked at her with a "WTF are you doing/acting stupid/crazy" look. I quickly got her out of my room. After informing her boyfriend where we were going, we started to walk to the store. He mysteriously appeared and accompanied me and her. The whole time we went to and back from the store, Tammy was REALLY off the hook. I kept asking what was up with her, but she kept ranting and raving like a spoiled kid screaming at Santa Clause for bypassing his Christmas gift.

Halfway to Musolf Manor, a homeless transgendered person stopped her. I asked Tammy if knew this person, and she said yes. Once we got home, she quickly ran hurried me and her boyfriend away. As we entered the building, I noticed that Tammy and the individual sat outside on the ground as if they were camping out.

Something smelled funny, and you didn't need the nose of a narcotic-sniffing dog from a cop's car to sense that something was SERIOUSLY UP!!!

I went upstairs, head still a little puzzled by these somewhat perplexing events earlier on. As I sat on my bed and consumed a few of my beers, the sound of fast forwarding quickly caught my ears. I looked outside my peephole and though a Flash-like blur, it appears that she snuck the person up the stairs in her room.

Approx 6:00 p.m. in the evening later.

The homeless transgender person came inside the building to see Tammy apparently to "get his/her stuff back." Leslie, the evening desk clerk (often called "Les" by everyone) gave the person the privilege to wait in the lobby, and even allowed him/her terminal access to the computer terminal for only tenants. Sometime later, Les noticed the person was abusing the privilege, and ordered the person to leave.

When this person refused, Les threatened to call the police. A neighbor upstairs advised him to do so, referencing the rules and regulations of the building.

Les is known to give private "guidance counselor conference) meetings to most of the tenants in Musolf Manor, in the T.V. conference room. I told him about what took place earlier on. I was writing an incident report about Tammy's behavior.

"There's drama in Tammy's room!!!" I would later hear "blood is everywhere."

Les quickly got up, carrying the office phone with him. I waited downstairs. A short time later, he and a male neighbor of mine physically brought this person downstairs. (Him/her not a homophobic slur on my end, not to mention this person might not even be legally one. Screw anyone who takes this out of fk@#$^ context)

This person was LITERALLY bleeding from BOTH arms. I started to freak out, like everyone else in the building. I was in a serious state of shock that the blood might have came from Tammy. This was my original initial reaction; that this person attacked her because she refused to give him/her back their belongings.

(This is a common pattern with her according to other neighbors who know her well enough.)This person (who was pretty big and an inch taller than me. I'm about 6'2 and a half) swung around, knocking my neighbor down, causing him a serious injury to his arm.

Then this individual shoved me aside, then broke away from Les. He was still on the phone with a 911 operator. We were both in pursuit (me being the closest) on foot while the perp was still bleeding from BOTH arms. Wearing nearly all white, with what I called my Miami Vice "Sonny Crocket loafers" didn't slow me down, nor was I concerned of any stains to my attire. I was irate and angered at what this person had just did.

My now-injured neighbor would later arrive in addition, while writhing in pain of his arm.

Under a minute later, a squad car came racing around the corner. I led the responding officer to the perp's location. The area became flanked with squad cars in seconds. Him/her was detained without incident.

"I need to get the f@#$& out of here!" Is one of the statements I said to them. After taking my statements, my neighbor's Leslie's, and the perpetrator's, they went to Musolf Manor. The person was tranported to a hospital, and I ASSUME they was later arrested.
After they went upstairs and questioned Tammy regarding her involvement (later proven facilitator this act among other tenants) one of the officers, as they left the building made an obnoxious comment that "I got blood on my shoes" instead of "thank you Mr. Crump for your help."

I replied, "Comes with the territory" as I sat wearily on the community couch in the tenant lounge.

Sometime later, I sternly told Leslie that I hoped he noted that I put my life on the line for him.

Leslie shocking response, "You did?"
　
Post Traumatic Stress Disorder (PTSD) Millions have it, whether you are from a place of poverty or privilege. Being a witness to anything horrific NEVER leaves your mind. Regardless of one's therapy sessions, medications, quiet enjoyment, or even constant addictions to erase whatever mayhems our minds; its forever stored there like valuables at Fort Knox. I've had at least two horrific home invasions in my life. One when I was a teen on August 25th, 1991, in Cleveland, OH.

The other was, of course with members of the San Francisco Police Department on October 7th, 2005.

And now here at Musolf Manor here in Portland, OR in what was a VERY disgusting display of somethng out of a tragic horror movie or Shakespeare's "Macbeth" consisting of "bloody arms." What's even more bloody (at least to me) is being betrayed......... when you and another risk your life for someone!

I looked dead in Les's serpent-servitude eyes hidden behind his glasses speechless like cold death at what he just said. "What!" I exclaimed. "I just risked my life (along with my neighbor who was injured in the ordeal) and you mean to tell me that you are not even going to note that I risked my very life FOR YOU?!"

I went upstairs to vent from my anger. I then called downstairs and Les gives me this lecture (what he typically does) "I have to do my job, ok? I have to do what James wants me to do!" Enraged beyond belief, I angrily called Cascade Management's voicemail practically cursing and yelling to the effect as to what Les had just said to me. I then went downstairs and he quickly changed his mind.....as if he was playing with my own.

(I would later learned that he purposely fabricated facts, in a blatant attempt to take all of the credit.)

This was not just in his own incident "report" but he also excluded my neighbor who came to his rescue........ (upon his pleas for help) when he struggled to detain the homeless transgendered woman. This person was snuck in (by an upstairs tenant) as I was in the TV tenant lounge conference table writing an incident report about Tammy's behavior the night before.

Judging from the blood flow from BOTH arms its pretty clear that this person was indefinitely suicidal. Who exactly cuts their own arms inside a place that they don't even live at......JUST BECAUSE THEY WON'T GET THEIR BELONGINGS BACK???!!!

Translation: If I go down........so will EVERYONE ELSE!

She snuck the person in earlier on, in the 2:00 am hour and apparently she stole this person's belongings and refused to give them back. Its reasonable to assume that's why this person wanted to see her. The next day following this nightmare of bloodshed, I went downstairs, and EVERYONE (except my neighbor who assisted Les, according to him) was interviewed by resident manager, James Robertson who were involved via co-conspirators.

Needless to say, Tammy and some of her other "friends" involved denied the charges.............even though they were all caught dead to rights in their web of lies and deceit. I demanded a meeting the night before with Darla Lull, from Cascade Management. She actually agreed!

The meeting went underway at approx. 3:10 p.m. I sat at what appeared to be a marble brown-colored table, with the garage-like door pulled down, and its door closed. Sitting at the head of the table, my eyes glared at everyone seated like a crazed mad mobster ready to snap. I did keep my cool...................for the most part.

Kat Lentz from Innovative Housing, and James Robertson also joined us for the private meeting. I let every single one of them give their statement first. I had to bite my tongue as I looked angrily at Miss Lull for giving me this bureucratic-like malarchy about how they "appreciated" me raising to them SO many concerns and even documented these incidents.

"We are addressing and handling these situations, Mr. Crump. I just want you to know that these individuals have been served with a 30 day notice."

Everything was laid out to her about the ppl I've had to "write up" for their harassment towards me. One in particular, my racist yet, mentally ill neighbor Randy Corwin who at one point pissed me off SO BADLY THAT I was literally willing to risk incarceration by beating the f&9%"k out of him.

A person can only take so much before they snap. Corwin was the first person I actually had to write up. Another upstairs neighbor of mine, name Elizabeth was another. However, I forgave her this exact same day when she opened up to me about her horrific past and cried in my arms. I too, shed tears, and thusfar we've become good friends again. I no longer wish for her removal from Musolf, after I explained to her about the importance of love and friendship, and not hurting the ones she love.

(Truthfully, I kinda feel this way about Tammy, considering her mental health and the company that she keeps her no doubt manipulate her to do things she probably don't wish to do. Still doesn't excuse her actions. Just need extensive counseling and moral support for recovery)

I let Lull know just how upset I still was about the Richard Dodge incident, which took place on December 3rd, 2012. Dodge endangered the lives of every single tenant on our floor with his flooding. He even took the fire extinguisher out of its emergency box, then began spraying his own door. Les (according to numerous neighbors) refused to give him a spare key to open his locked door.

The Portland Fire EMTs had to literally access my room to dump the flooding in my toilet. This act led to the collapse of the editorial office of Street Roots, and Darcelle's (a popular female impersonator club) next door to Musolf as well.

Forutnately, Dodge was kicked out before the ball dropped on New Year's Eve.

Lull undoubtedly anticipated my demands for full financial compensation (as well as strict dire changes to ensure the safety of the tenants here at Musolf) for the pain and suffering I was subjected to that very night. February 12th was just WAY too much for even a "Mad Man Marlon" to endure. This night was just straight up overkill for me, and everyone affected.

Fortunately no lives were lost. Just the fright of an unpleasant sight from that very night. A forever horrific memory.

Lull, of course would soundly say N-O to financial compensation. She even had the audacity, in a cruel under current tone of non-compassion for possibly saving the life of one of her employees, "Its really not your job to assist.........but thank you" she said with a smile phonier than a Millie Vanilli Concert Tour on ice.

Hmmmm, ONE person having a hard time physically trying to remove a person who posed an immediate SERIOUS threat to the safety of EVERY single tenant in the building, practically needed help to remove this person from the premises; and could've came back for vengeance if not captured.........but assistance wasn't needed???!!! I wonder if they would've said that if children (who often come into the building to visit their families in Musolf) witnessed such a sickening scene?

True cruel and VERY unusual punishment. She might as well have said "Thank you but f&%*k you for saving me."

HIGHWAY ROBBERY TO THE SOUL!!!!!!


"By the pricking of my thumbs, something wicked this way comes." (Act 4, Scene 1)

"I am in blood stepp'd in so far, that should I wade no more. Returning were as tedious as go o'er."

William Shakespeare's "Macbeth."


Aftermath, and update: They say in law enforcement that a criminal always return to the scene of the crime. I second those sentiments because just yesterday as I write a revised version, on 3/27/13, the individual had the unbelievable audacity to loiter outside of Musolf Manor. Despite criticism from a neighbor of "being nice and not rude", I said to this person with a cold tone of voice with an unerving smile, "I like to look my enemies in the eye." I alerted James Robertson and Cascade Management of this perpetrator's presence near the premises.......................and Richard Dodge who boldly refuses to stay way from Musolf Manor.