My Father the Rape Artist

Capturing Beauty

Chapter Two

My Father the Rape Artist

My late sister, the World Famous Artist, believed our father killed one of his secretaries by overdosing her with a Date Rape pill. Her parents returned $10,000 dollars to my father that they found in her safe deposit box. Vic did not want to pay his taxes, so I suspect he had his loyal young secretaries stash away the money he gathered as a Loan Shark.

When I heard Vic raped his granddaughter, my niece, I called him and told him he had better tell me the truth, or, I would turn him into the IRS. He told me they were drinking, and Shannon came on to him. I called the IRS. They did an audit. In 1994, Vic was convicted of taking a woman’s house. And, he died. I was not told he was dead
because my brother, Mark Presco, took over the family secrets, and I proved to be disloyal to that edict now that I was sober. I found out my father left the planet from a cousin I never met when I was doing the family tree.

“I hate to be the bringer of bad news, John, but your father died three years ago!”

Criminal, and sexually abusive families are full of secrets. No one but the Godfather gets the whole truth. This is why I was shocked to discover Belle Burch had drawn me into a Family Secret Cartel that wanted my information, but was not going to give me any of their information. Belle offered to help me edit my novel that contains this information – for money! She did not want me to know she and her extended family were arrested together, and I assume that was their special bond that outsiders are not privy to.

Above is a photo of Vic and his best friend, Ernie. His brothers were the Mexican Mafia in San Quinten. When Michael Dundon and I were over Vic’s, Ernie told us his cousin screwed a young dead woman on the slab at his mortuary. Vic said;

“Gee. I hope he was not a selfish lover, and warmed her up with some foreplay.”

“Hardy-har har!”

In the photo above, Vic and Ernie are down in Mexico laundering money, buying up time-shares. I have been to Incest Survivors meetings. When I wrote long letters to my siblings warning them to keep their children away from both parents, they excommunicate me. I would write letters to Andrew Cuomo and the Attorney General telling them about the huge real estate scam that was going down. I was ignored. I was all alone. When everything I heard about my sister’s death, was a lie, I wondered if she was silenced.

It is common for the Family Whistle-blower and Family Scapegoat to be blamed for being the sourse of the abuse. We saw this in the attack of Belle Bruch and Alley Valkyrie, who said she was going to make my life hell because I was fucking with her people. I did not know Alley. Belle sicked her on me in order to silence me. Alley was Belle’s enforcer. Belle called me after Alleypimp worked me over in public and threatened to depict me as a dangerous sexual deviant. I have helped several people overcome the incest in their family. They thanked me profusely.

Jon Presco

Yesterday I talked to Dick Moyer, a curator of the Crockett Museum. I had talked with his late father back in the 70s about my grandfather, Hugo Presco. He said he was a great man, known as a gambler. I asked Dick about the gambling in Crockett, but he knew very little. There were some raids during Prohibition, but Moyer had not read the article that I found in 1994 that said there were about sixty bordello and gambling houses in Crockett. My father had said the same thing. Rosemary said there were about five thousand people at Hugo’s funeral, including the Mayor of San Francisco. Was the funeral held in Crockett? According to my mother, Vic took the money collected for burial, and went and got drunk. Where Hugo is buried, is unknown. I have this picture of Vic backing his car up to the bay, and unloading his father who is weighed down with rusty chain, and feeding him to the crabs.

Vic took us to see his father but one time. Victor Hugo was living on a houseboat in Scowtown located in the shadow of the Carquinis Bridge. We had to walk along a maze of floating dock. A malato answered the door, then went and got The Gambler. In reading about gambling in Portland’s Scowtown, Hugo’s houseboat could have been the sight of a infamous poker game that was impossible to raid. You could see, and feel the cops coming as they rocked the dock.

Mr. Moyer told me he had a drawing of Scowtown on the wall in his office done by a Portuguese resident. I asked him if he would get it scanned and put on the museum webpage. I told him I was writing about my famous artistic sister. Dick didn’t get it. Royal Rosamond’s novel ‘Bound In the Clay’ was compared to ‘Tobacco Road’. consider John Steinbeck’s novel ‘Canary Row’.

Victor William Presco wanted to be a bigger man then his father. Above we see the captain with on e of his Chriscraft boats he had docked in Martinez, located about five miles from Crockett. In 1969 I took my father and his best friend and business partner, Ernie quinones, down to the estuary and showed them any empty plot of land. I told Vic he should get together some investors and build a commercial community here. Jack London Village was built several years later, and is now about to be torn down. How time flies. Mr. Moyer is kin to Jim Strehlow who owned Neptune Beach in Alameda. Bobby Jensen, the brother of the Yankee ball player, Jackie Jensen, did watercolors of the boats in Jack London Square, and was my teacher at McCheznie High.

I was living on my sailboat about a mile from the square when I had my brain-storm. In 1962 I did a watercolor of Oakland’s produce market where Vic operated Acer Produce in an old Victorian Warehouse located on 4th. Street and Webster. This painting was chosen to tour the world in a Red Cross show.

Ernie’s brother were the Mexican Mafia in San Quintin. Vic drank with Art who made Vic one with them. Above we see Ernie and Vic in Mexico investing in time-shares. Vic married a Mexican woman whom he smuggled across the border in a marijuana shipment. I took my friend Michael Harkins on a tour of the waterfront that took us deep into West Oakland. Mr. O’Harkins forbid me to blog about him. He likes to stay under the radar because he is a Private Investigator who is like Dashel Hammet’s ‘Continental Op’

Michael Harkins, and his family, have been close friends of mine, and other mutual friends, since 1965. Michael went to the California College of Arts and Crafts, and was good friends with the Stackpole family. Michael married the ex-wife of Bruce Perlowin who married a famous and dangerous Russian Spy while in the fed lock-up. A movie is being made about Bruce, the founder of Marijuana Inc, who lived in the Harkin’s basement for several month, and did business with Abbey Hoffman, there. Michael worked for Bruce who also founded a company called One World. Arround 1990 Michael and I went to lunch with William Linhart, the Private Investigator who Cayrl Chessman hired to keep him from going to the electric chair. We accompanied Bill to KTVU in Jack London Square where he was going to be interviewed.

Above is a painting of the duck hunting shacks located at the entrance of the Bay Bridge that Peter Stackpole photographed. Nick and Nora drive past these huts. The Thin Man movies are ‘Film Noir’. Nick had oddball friends. One of them was named ‘Meatball Murphy’. Sounds like Elmer ‘Big Bones’ Remmer the mafioso my mother worked for.

“Film noir is a cinematic term used primarily to describe stylish Hollywood crime dramas, particularly those that emphasize cynical attitudes and sexual motivations. Hollywood’s classical film noir period is generally regarded as extending from the early 1940s to the late 1950s. Film noir of this era is associated with a low-key black-and-white visual style that has roots in German Expressionist cinematography. Many of the prototypical stories and much of the attitude of classic noir derive from the hardboiled school of crime fiction that emerged in the United States during the last depression.

While fishing near the San Rafael Bridge, I an my friends were approached by three men who were unloading a freighter. They asked us what we are doing here. My Japanese drug dealer gave them a dirty look, and said;

“What does it look like we are doing?”

“Fishing?”

There was a Mexican Standoff. One of my friends is packing a piece. They thought we were cops posing as fishermen. We had stumbled on Perlowin’s smuggling operation we stumbled upon. Bruce had purchased equipment to spy on the Coast Guard. It was discovered that large vessels
went off radar when they went under the San Rafael Bridge. One could say we owned the waterfront as did the author Jack London. Royal Rosamond was a friend of Hammett, and taught Erl Stanley Gardener who to write.

After getting out of the Fed lock-up, Bruce was looking for a staight job. Vic interviewd ‘The King of Pot’ out at his Lafayette home where he ran a Loan business. In 1994, Captian Vic was convicted of loan sharking. The DA of Conra Costa wanted the names of his money men. The Cap told him to go fuck hiself.

Jon Presco

Copyright 2012