by Travis Mateer
My working theory on yesterday’s breaking and pissing incident, which turned my vehicle into a temporary homeless bathroom, is that the culprit found my driver’s side door unlocked, got in, and pissed themselves after passing out. I like this theory because it removes malicious intent, which I assumed existed after seeing my shit strewn everywhere.
Instead of bothering law enforcement with this, I visited Lion’s Park and made a morning announcement yesterday to my homeless community about my vehicular piss problem and the reward I was offering for info leading to the culprit. When I returned to my spot I saw a dude on a bike and I explained the scenario, so we talked for a bit and guess what? He knew Johnny B before the Sheriff’s Office shot him in the back, and he even recognized Sean Stevenson, the man the Sheriff’s Office euthanized at St. Pat’s on January 5th, 2020.
Before discussing a second Pulp article about our Sheriff’s pathetic murder investigation into the bludgeoning death of 88 year old Delphine Farmer, I’d like to highlight my weekly op-ed at Western Montana News where this week I examine my homeless status from two distinct angles by asking the question Am I Broken Windows Or Am I Opportunity?
My bias is that I’m definitely an opportunity, and one of the reasons I’m an opportunity is because my background as a former service provider has made me VERY familiar with those living marginally in our community. The additional context I can bring to articles like this one about the violent murder of Delphine Farmer is a great example.
Here’s an excerpt from the link about some of the family surrounding Delphine Farmer:
Despite a detailed search-warrant narrative about what went down in Farmer’s house nearly two years ago, no charges have been filed. Two of Farmer’s children at home when she died were questioned and named in additional search warrants. Her son, Monty Field, blamed his sister, Diane Field, in a call to 911, the warrant says. According to a protective order filed on Diane’s behalf, she tells a different story.
Records show both siblings were questioned after deputies arrived on a Sunday afternoon and found Farmer bleeding on the floor, where she died. Search warrants indicate investigators collected DNA from the house and from both siblings.
Bridges says she believes Monty—her uncle—deserves a closer look, even though she’s not quite sure where he is now. He did not come to his mother’s memorial service at Missoula’s Northside Park, though her dad and both of her aunts were there, says Bridges. Her aunt Diane, who’s in her 70s, is deaf. Documents filed by the sheriff’s office describe her that way, too. Diane’s the oldest of Delphine’s six children—two preceded Delphine in death.
Delphine had Diane when she was just 14. Bridges says Diane had always lived with her mom and that now she lives with her sister, Debbie Maplethorpe, in Missoula. “In all those years of living together, there wasn’t this level of violence. And now this happens? It doesn’t make sense,” says Bridges.
The last name MAPLETHORPE jumped out at me for reasons I won’t get into now, and because of that I decided to see who Debbie might associate with. One easy way to start getting a sense of this is by checking out a person’s friends on Facebook. That’s how I discovered a young man profiled by the Missoulian last year was friends with a meth dealer who had been busted INSIDE the Authorized Camping Site run by the city.
What did I find when I scrolled through Debbie’s friends? I found this:
Kat Glover was pictured by the Missoulian almost exactly a year ago when Lion’s Park was being cleared of “urban camping” because of health and safety issues. Here’s the pic:
I provide these data points NOT to guilt-by-associate, but to show a wider swath of the social fabric these unsolved crimes exist in. While I’m glad Jule Banville is joining the really fun party I’ve been having these last 4 years of journalism-out-of-necessity, my “lived experience” at the forefront of raising the alarm has made me quite the target of those with more power and money than I have.
I wouldn’t be a TRASH ALCHEMIST, though, if I bitched and moaned about the trials and tribulations of my life, so here’s a song for this summer solstice/full moon about a puddle of pee. I hope you enjoy it, and I hope you click on that op-ed I wrote for Western Montana News. Next week’s piece will be a special feature of Ellie Boldman for the Poverello’s 50th Anniversary day, a day I’m still trying to figure out what to do after the current director politicized a convenient corpse and my former program.
We may have had a cold, wet start to the sunny BIG SKY season in Western Montana, but my forecast for the near-future is things are about to get HOT, so donate to Travis’ Impact Fund (TIF) to ensure your dose of Zoom Chron keeps producing.
Thanks for reading!
UPDATE: the above song makes a reference to the extreme irony of my pee situation and a similar situation, sans pee, the Judge Eli Parker experienced on election night. Boy I wish I could say more, but that wouldn’t be advisable from someone in my legally tenuous situation.
Enjoy the weekend responsibly, Missoula!