
How did Jon Turner get poop on the ceiling? Was it purposeful or accidental?
Obviously, an eviction would be forthcoming, since the overall state of the apartment was atrocious, but determining the poop mystery could help make a case, if the Missoula County Attorney gave a shit, that Jon Turner was a danger to himself and others, thus would need to be legally declared incompetent for his own protection.
I remember this case quite well, since it was one of the few times I got to hear the gallows humor of first responders as we waited around to see if we could put Jon Turner in jail for the night. Since Jon was fucked up on his preferred drug of choice, which was booze, we couldn’t be sure he wouldn’t try turning on the broken stovetop and starting a fire that could kill everyone in his building.
About a year before Jon got poop on the ceiling, he was being a vile and belligerent drunk at the Sleepy Inn, where he was in the process of being kicked out and dealing with cops. When I showed up at the motel, at the end of my shift coordinating the Homeless Outreach Teams, the cops dealing with Jon were delighted, and quickly left me alone to deal with a homeless drunk man in a wheelchair who could NOT stay at the Poverello Center, because we had kicked him out for breaking the rules, and could NOT remain in his motel room, because he was throwing things against the wall and bother the Native family living next door.
What did I do?
I pushed Jon in his wheelchair, east on Broadway, all the way to St. Pats hospital where the security guard explained to me that Jon was trespassed from the hospital and wouldn’t be admitted.
“Ok,” I said, “so call the cops and let’s get him arrested.” Reluctantly the security guard made the call, and when the cop showed up, I had to explain reality to them.
“Listen,” I said, “Jon can’t stay at the Poverello, and he just got kicked out of his motel room. If you want to get 911 welfare calls on him all night, or if you want to just let him die in the cold, fine, but getting him arrested is my last option. I will follow up tomorrow, call his payee for money, then see if any other motel will take him. He’s been kicked out of most of them.”
The cop was hesitant at first, but since he knew I was right, he complied with my request to use a trespassing charge from a hospital (the irony) to keep Jon from expiring on the streets of this stupid, retarded, toxically empathic town.
Yesterday, at the Housing, Redevelopment, and Community Programs Committee, I told an abbreviated version of my “poop on the ceiling” story and explained how our community’s lack of substance abuse programs ensures LOTS of failure (you can view my comment here).
After throwing a little shade at the new Unified Code and the industry expectation it won’t help affordable housing, I reminded the councilors around the “horseshoe” that the Headwaters Foundation sits on $80-100 million dollars, if they ever wanted to tap something substantive instead of just blaming the state while obsessing over taxing tourists.
Later in the day, while standing in the alleyway where Mike Nugent kissed Jordan Hess’ Mayoral mood ring, I was telling a street person how the Missoula County Attorney’s Office is actually the one killing homeless people like Lorrie Eisenbarth, and how the 60 year old woman sleeping and pissing herself at Barnes and Noble, then pepper spraying the barista when he led her outside, is also the kind of situation I suspect the Missoula County Attorney’s Office could address, legally, instead of the unofficial psych-ward known as “jail” where the woman, Erin Riggs, spent three days for “aggravated felony burglary” before being released.


While this alleyway conversation was happening between myself, the street person, and my companion (the man being criminally charged for losing a fight to four people with weapons and badges), a bunch of City Council members walked by, providing a GREAT opportunity for me to test their civic knowledge with my enhanced sign!

“JEREMIAH PETERSEN” said Kristen Jordan, to which I said…
“Correct!” then added, “But, in my latest post, the word I used was PUSSY!”
Next week I’ll be examining a new narrative push to glad-hand the Hip Strip condo abomination, including asking a question no one else will about the puff piece: why is a man who fondly remembers the ex-CIA turned newspaper man, John Talbot, ALSO admitting in print to secretly spying on “horny” people making out on paid work time?
Thanks for reading!


























