September 14, 2009–Post About the Illegal Football Game

Posted on January 3, 2011


My Letter to the Sheriff’s Office     // Edit

following Saturday’s Ordeal By Football, Officer Ryan of the UC Sheriff’s Dept. had the courtesy to respomnd to my email, with a request for pqarticulqars.   He probably got more particulars than he expected.  Wit until I get that digicam going.
 Dear Sheriff Ryan:
     Thank you for your interest in this matter–and for your volenteer work with the reresentatives from the UK.   I certainly hope you didm’t have to go over there for the meeting!   I volenteer for at risk youth myself through the Rewards for Excellence Program at the Hodge Center   However I also spend over 2/3 of my measley under $10,000-a-year income on property taxes.   Some of that supposedly goes to support a police department and some of it goes to pay for upkeep and grooming of a football field at the Kingston High School two blocks from my house.   Nobody on my block has children and we certainly don’t appreciate being captive audiences for dozens of large teenagers stampeding through our gardens, porches and thoroughfares in a six hour marathon “football game.”
   I spoke today to the Coach Maisch (sp?) at KHS and it appears likely these blaze-orange shirted young thugs were not even Kingston High School football team memebers.   He is checking to where a team is with blaze orange shirts. Since they came in at least two cars, he points out, they could have come from anywhere.   That means they probably are not even taxpayers in this district.
    I went to the Farmers’ Market Saturday morning.   Because I am living on $118 a week unemployment, I was eligable for a program that gave me a voucher for $20 extra in food credits at the market and I came home elated with a fresh mozzarella, yellow tomatos, and all sorts of goodies I don’t get at the food closet.   My elation didn’t last long.  It must have been about noon and there were what appeared to be three football teams and their audience spread out in Levan Street outside of my house.  (orange shirts, white shirts, green shirts.   Name of some commercial enterprise on the front of the shirts “Brewer” or “Bower” or something similar.   They had set up umbrella chairs along the “redwood” fence at 27 LeVan, there were six or seven onlookers, and some guy with a clipboard keeping score for what had to be dysfunctional football game.    Some of these kids can throw but they can’t catch worth a damn.  They had already knocked the “Staples and LeVan Street” street sign over and the Perpetual Barrel outside of Ms. Malone’s house where the BPW hasn’t repaired a pothole in over a year.    (WHAT AM I PAYING TAXES FOR. )  Before I got out of my car one tackle gone astray went right through Mrs. Heinie’s  corner bushes on her carefully tended yard.   As soon as I got out of the car Mrs. Royal and her friend Joan came out of her house, very angry, that they had called the cops 45 minutes ago and were waiting to see how long it took them to get there.  They said not to say anything, they were afraid of retaliation.   Fear is not one of my operative words.   I went in my house and I put my food in the refrigerator and I called the police again.  By this time Mrs. Malone was out on her porch very upset that she had spilled her pills.   She JUST got out Ten Broek Commons after a fall, she has Myasthenia Gravis, and she is nervous enough without having a football bounce across her porch three feet from her picture window.
    While we were calming Ms. Malone there was a “discussion” going on among our football players as to whether the ball had hit the overhead cablevison wires, in which case it was a second down nd not a fumble, or some such alrtercqation.  That wire has come down twice since I’ve owned this house, it  is not intended as a football goal.
     A police car finally came down the street and I thought it was going to just keep on going down Staple Street, but it made a three point turn facing the wrong way down Levan Street and the officer got out.   I thought he looked faintly familiar.   I later learned it was officer E. Osterhaught, the arresting officer in my December 26 arrest for (get this) disorderly concuct and obscenity.   Apparently this officer does know the legal definition of Disorderly Conduct.  However, he purported to me that these “football players” had every right to block the street and sidewalk, curse, roll each other through people’s gardens and vandalize street signs.  I was also told by Mrs. Royal that they had jumped my chain link fence onto my property WHICH IS POSTED.  (I have a hospice for end of life animals and a wildlife sanctuary.  One of my dogs contaminated my soil with hookworm, and Zeppo, my current rescue, is blessed with territorial agression.   Football in his yard, his football, fool, and don’t you touch it.)  Officer Osterhaught informed me that if my dog bit unprovoked I would be liable, and I replied pithily that if some six foot tall kid was over a fence on posted property, Zeppo would most certainly be provoked.
      What I didn’t add was that the umbrella chairs were set up along the redwood fence restraining Isis a female pit bull responsible for three (count them three) attacks of other dogs and pedestrians outside her fence after she jumped the fence three times last summer.   i was sincerely hoping she’d come over the fence again and join the game.   Once you’ve been tackled by a pit bull, you know you’ve been tackled.  
    Officer Osterhaupt (who probably recognised me though I did not recognise him yet.) ordered ME to get in MY CAR when I was legally on my sidewalk that I pay taxes for), and to drive off–which I did, straight to the Town of Esopus Library, where I got very busy on the internet checking the legal definition of “selective enforcement” and “disorderly conduct.”
     After I left Officer Osterhaupt went door to door down LeVan Street apparently telling everyone that Vandalism by Football was perfectly legal.  He asked Mrs. Royal if she preferred they were out there with guns.
    He cannot be that dumb.   This blatent disreguard for personal rights, property rights, this atmosphere of gang mentality is exactly what causes youth to think it is appropriate to get out in the street with guns.  This contempt for the law and property rights fosters an atmosphere of mob violence.
     Actually we had an series of episodes of gang violence here last summer when the Blood (I was told) “owned” Brewster and Levan for a week or so, and gave a thorough beat-down to one of our local football thugs, Shane Dempsky.   Frankly, I thought the gangstas were a lot more disciplined and less annoying that the Football Thugs.   for one things, their march downs took under an hour, and this football game went on for six friggin hours.  If it hadn’t started to pour they would still be there.
    When I came home from the library, they were still blocking the intersection, shouting and whooping, so I showed them that snow on the roof does not mean nobody is home.  My Plymoth may look like a poopbox but it can still leave a patch, and it did, right through the middle of them.  You never saw twenty kids get out of the street so fast in your life.   After four hours of complete mahem, an adult finally showed up, a black haired woman in a pink sweater who started to yell at me.  I went back and told her that fat bitches with red faces should not wear pink, that she was embarrasing her kid, and that I paid taxes on that street that none of her kids did.   They said I couldn’t walk straight.   That observation is correct.  I had polio at 2 1/2 and one leg is ahorter than the other one.  I failed to see what this had to do with a four hour vandalism spree.  I wnet home (it was now almost 3 pm) and got my digicam and took it up to Artcraft to get a battery for it.   I also called Aldermanic Candidate Hayes Clement to let him know one of his yard signs had been bent flat in the fray, and to ask what he’d do about this as Alderman.
     He said it has begun to rain and that ought to end the game.   You’d think.  But when I exited my gate to go to Artcraft, five of the thugs said “There she is” and “Let’s Get her” and came after me in a small blue sedan.    Rotten drivers.  They missed by a mile.   And then we played chicken in the rain in rush hour traffic all the way to the Broadway underpass.  Bad judgement on their part.  I got no paint job and they do.  They want to play bumper cars in rush hour traffic, that is fine with me.  I was driving in the Demolition Derby before I got my driver’s License right over in Deitz Stadium.
     Came back with my digicam armed and loaded (in the by now pouring rain)  (after four pm) and five of the thugs, now drenched to the skin and thoroughly miserable looking, surrounded me when I got out of my car so close they were touching my raincoat and followed me around the corner snickering.  I got about half way to my side gate and then I whirled and whipped the camera out of my pocket and began firing away.  They jumped into a black Saturn, hung a three point, and drove off down Staple Street.   That appeared to be the last of them for one day.   According to Mrs. Royal, they had unloaded the folding c hairs and equipment at ten a.m., so they blocked our two narrow one way streets for over six hours.   The people over on 99 Andew Street who were trying to have a yard sale said their customers had been kept away by the blocked street and one of the women giving the sale said she had been unable to get out to Broadway because of Levan being blocked.
    After she stopped shaking, Ms. Malone was able to check he copious records of her years with the educational system,and she was able to come up with some very educational tidbits about Office E. Osterhaupt’s behavior when He  was in high school.  Her memory is fine, its her ambulation that is compromised.
       OKAY YOU WILL NOT BELIEVE THIS.   I FIND IT HARD TO BELIEVE MYSELF.  THIS IS A DILLY.   Since we FINAlly had gotten the KPD to respomnce to a call after seven years. Ms Malone also told him about the incident that had terrified her earlier in the week when her doorbell had rung in the dark at 4 a.m.;
   He asked her why she didn’t answer the door.
     I certainly hope HE wouldn’t even answer the door in a pitch dark house at four in the morning.   She did exactly the right thing–she turned on all the outside lights and called the police, who, or course, never came.
    I cannot believe that this Kingston Police Officer advised a feeble 86 year old womn who can barely walk, who uses a walker, who has a severe bleeding disorder amd a life threatening disease to answer the door when an unknown person rang her bell at 4 am when it was pitch dark outside.   I have serious concderns about Officer Osterhapt’s judgement.   This is the jerk who had me handcuffed to the back seat of his squad car and when I remindeed him that my taxes were paying his salery and he seriously needed to rethink his definition of “Public Servant” told me that I wasn’t paying him enough.   I checked the city budget.  I know what he makes a year, counting benefits, like medical and dental care I desperately need an cannot afford.
   I am posting a copy of this to what Rebecca Martin calls “my little blog that nobody reads” and then I’m going to see if I got anything on that digicam.   The security at Kingston High is checking to see if the thugs were students there.  It seems likely they are not.  Then I’m going to the law library in the courthouse and I am going to find out how many laws were broken closing a city street to vehicular and foot traffic for 6 hours while violating the property rights of at least  six taxpaying homeowners.
   Damn, I wish Isis the pitbull had gotten out.  Let’s see them play football with no hands.
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