Capturing Beauty
ALL RIGHTS RESERVED
On October 6, 2024, I called Drew and left her message, informing her it’s my birthday. After finding her messages, I now wonder if I could have saved her – if I had found them when she sent them? Let me tell what a Gift and a Miracle this communication, is, and always will be.
When I read Damien Bosley’s message I sent him my phone number on his Messenger. He never did call me – to this day! I called Detective Holstrom, and she did not call me back, till five days later. Because Drew and I had not communicated in many years, I wondered if we ever formed a bond, and if not, then I will just lurk in the background. When Holstrom told me I was the only family member who responded, I had her repeat that astounding truth. WHAT IS THERE PROBLEM? What manner of Identity Crisis are these morons entertaining? Don’t they know anything about human history. Even the most demonic leaders have taken a time out to bury – THE DEAD! Holstrom was -disgusted!
Every member of my family is dead, except Rand Molnar who treats me like a subhuman, and wont talk to me. What’s his problem,. Does he care that Drew is dead? Does he know? How about my daughter, Heather Hanson?
As things stand to day, alas I have someone to talk to. I highly suggest who ever has Drew Benton’s phone, pay the bill, and keep it safe. When Detective Holstrom asked me why I want The Police Report, I considered several reasons why she wanted to know. Offocer Holstrom this is for you.
TO: DETECTIVE HOLSTROM OCTOBER 8, 2024
CO: BULLHEAD POLICE DEPARTMENT
Above is a photo of the family gathering in Ojai California. On the far left is Rosemary Presco, the most psychopathic criminal you may ever known. She made Porn Movies fir Big Bones Remmer and was his high class hooker that worked out of the Beverly Hills Hotel. She fel to LA after she was busted. She lft her four children in the care of a crazy old hag. There was an article in the Oakland Tribune saying the authorities were considering putting us in orphanage. But, that’s what Rosemary wanted because she seduced my best friend who was a gifted artist and writer. She deserved the beautiful bond Bill Arnold and I had, because she married the Wrong Man who could not help her with her identify crisis. I didn’t get it. They had good mothers, while I had the Momster From Hell. Vicent Rice called her Mighty Mo. These teamster in New York fave me the moniker….
THE CALIFORNIA KID
At seventeen I was a real tough guy. No one could outwork me. I ended up in the Big Apple after I stopped Might Mo from tearingn more hair out of Drew’s mother’s head. I shoved her in the close and slammed the door, because she started to come nafter me. Isaid this to my Mom’
“If you come out – I will kill you!”
Mo beat up my fifteen year old girlfriend. She had her by the hair and was slapping her face.
“No one tells me how to raise my son!”
I was in NY for eight months. I returned three days before the last family reunion Mo’s children were invited to. because my kin knew something was wrong. Bob Kelley and Mary Rosamond knew. Why the Art World does not know this story, is because a Judge gave permission to ghost Writers to author my Self-Help book I was working on after I got sober in 1987. My natalborthday is April 7th.
The big mystery The Outsiders SOLD to Rosamond Fans, was, who is in the backseat of the car in Christine Rosamond Benton’s painting ‘The Crossing’. Its……Bill Arnold who drove on the the railroad tracks in the Volvo that was in Mighty Mo’s name, and got crushed by a train. That is not Christine at the wheel. It is……….ROSSSSSSSSSENARY! Rosemary DROVE Bill to suicide!
And now you know! Can you guess who this guy is? How would you like Remmer to come in your home and -examine you? Did he want you to work for the mob as a young Porn Star. Bill died twenty minutes past my eighteenth birthday I never celebrate – until today! I celebrate it with my late niece
DREW BENTON
Who may have not taken her life…if she knew the truth!
Enough for now. My PTSD is making my confession, painful! Everything you have read was heard by my therapist in the last three years. Barbara said…
“I don’t know how you survived!”
John Presco
Big Bones Remmer
The Rose Crossing
Posted on September 7, 2012 by Royal Rosamond Press
Stacey Pierrot hired another ghost writer who tells such a incredible lie that it could be considered a fairytale, but for the fact it is devoid of any magic. She says Christine’s kindergarten teacher gave a testimony about how talented this five year old was. How old would this teacher be? Did she write a letter, or make a recording. If a letter existed, why was it not scanned and put in this liar’s biography? If she was thirty in 1952, she would be 90 today. How was she found? What school did she teach in? What city? Why are liars like this allowed around creative people?
Christine told me she rendered the image above in order to deal with Bill’s death. How did she deal with the Liars that surrounded her?
Jon
25 Cent Pay Radio
Posted on July 19, 2012 by Royal Rosamond Press
I lived in the Saint George Hotel on 13th. Street New York City, two doors down from Broadway. Everything was painted a Juvy Green, a color Bill Arnold coined after his stay in Juvenile Hall for stealing a car and leading the Oakland Cops on a wild chase up Trestle Glen Blvd. There were shots fired. Bill jumped out of car and knocked a cop to the ground with the door, and got away. A fink turned him in.
There was a marble fireplace that was blocked off. Above it was an old mirror that was losing its reflection, there dark cancerous blotches all over it that were like black holes sucking reality out of the room. This mirror had seen alot. But what was truly haunting was the old pay radio by the bed made out of pressed board painted the same Juvy Green. No one wanted to steal this thing, this robber of the airwaves that anticipated the internet, cable, and Ipod. I rarely had a quarter to play it I living on $8.89 cent day. This room cost $6.00 dollars a night. I ate two meals, one at the buffet two blocks away that cost $1.25, and the other at a cafe on 5th. street and Broadway where I had a breakfast for $1.25. I bought a pack of cigarettes for .25 cents. That left me with $.14 cents which went for a candy bar and cup of coffee when I took my 20 minute lunch break at work around 3:40 A.M. Sometimes I would grab a $.15 cent hotdog at Nehis at the subway station with the 4 cents I saved up.
In 1963 I worked in Hell’s Kitchen at Yale Transport located on the Hudson River at 40th. street and 12th avenue from 12 AM to 8 AM. I was seventeen years and three months old. Manpower Inc. gave me two tokens to get to work and back. They sent a forty year old black man with me who was castrated down south for talking to a white woman. If he was a with a white guy, his chances of being jumped by a Westend gang, was not as likely. We were always ready for a fight. We played it cool. We worked together unloading trucks in the middle of winter. I had no money for winter clothes. My foreman was once a heavyweight boxer with a flat nose. Walking in the snow through the wharehouses, was other worldly.
Sometimes I would put a quarter in the radio, and fall asleep about 11 A.M. to a half hour of music. I was so tired I would not wake till around 10 P.M. I bought books around the corner for a nickle. I read Jewish survival autobiographies. My Christ Complex got started here.
If my mother had lent me a $100 dollars, I could have gotten this room for $90 dollars a month which would have given me extra quarters to hear music. I was paying $150 a month. If Rosmeary had shown me some mercy, I could have had $2 more dollars a day which would have allowed me to take the subway out to Far Rockaway on my day off which I could not afford to take. I worked seven days a week.
The day my mother said she could not help me, and I was on my own, I mixed the flour in a cup and made myself a unleavened pancake. It was my Passover. I would never take my mother’s victimhood serious again. She deserved everything she got.
Today, the Saint George Hotel, Yale transport, and the pay radio, is gone. However, in my novel ‘The Gideon Computer’ that I began in 1986, I move that radio to an old hotel room in downtown Oakland, turn it into a computer, and put this message on it;
“Talk tome Pilgrim”
The year is 2000.
I lived in New York for nine months. Today, a millionaire can not afford the lifestyle I enjoyed. I was a real New Yorker, even though my co-workers called me ‘The California Kid’. When tough westend stevedores give you a moniker, you are a Made Man. The idea I could get a job anyhwere in the world, was awesome! I had my passport.
The California Kid sounds like a prize fighter. In 1968 I returned to the Saint George Hotle and took on Max The Mafia. We played a game of chess as he held a gun to my friend Keith’s head. I lost the chess game, but won the life of my best friend. I could have run. But, I am a Fighter from Hells Kitchen.
Jon Presco
Copyright 2012
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=AdKjEHfHINQ
Jon Presco
Hell’s Kitchen, Manhattan
View from between 47th and 48th streets on Ninth Avenue looking northeast toward Time Warner Center and Hearst TowerHell’s Kitchen, also known as Clinton and Midtown West, is a neighborhood of Manhattan in New York City between 34th Street and 59th Street, from 8th Avenue to the Hudson River.[1]
Rosemary – Who Killed Kennedy?
Posted on October 23, 2021 by Royal Rosamond Press
Rosemary
by
John Presco
Copyright 2021
When James Bond entered the Key Club on San Pablo Blvd. he instinctively looked for the high rollers table, where the real money is being wagered. But, business first. Heading for the bar he beheld Rosemary for the first time. It was hard to believe she was the mother of four children. She was a knockout! She had the body of a twenty year old.
“Rosemary?” Bond ventured.
When she turned, James was taken back by how beautiful and sophisticated this mother was. He could see why she got the attention of powerful players who were recruiting her into their circle. She had come into the Key Club after work. She was an executive secretary at Rucker, a plant in Emeryville that made hydraulics for NASA. Rosemary helped put men in space. She was vital to the Space Race and all the propaganda that went with. The Soviet Union was the competition. As luck would have it, Sam Giancana was in town visiting Big Bones Remmer who had just become the manager of the Cal Nevada Lodge. Remmer had several clubs in San Francisco, and there was a plan to get this famous Sin City to legalize gambling again. The Barbary Coast had become famous. Gamblers had come from all over the world. There were dance halls and bordellos’.
Rosemary was shocked when Sam started telling her he did some work for the CIA. He was bragging about it – openly! After Sam asked Rosemary for a date, she called her old friend from Naval Intelligence who had tried to employ his ex-lover in some clandestine operations. Having four mouths to feed after her and Victor got divorced, she was asking if there would be pay for her work. Within hours, she is being told not to go to the CIA.
“I know someone in British Intelligence. We worked on a project together.”
“And you are……?”
“Bond…..James Bond!”
___________________
In 1963, while watching T.V. with her four children, Rosemary Presco made an announement.
“I know who killed Kennedy.”
“Who? we asked
“I can’t say.”
Rosemary told us a year earlier she was making porn movies for Big Bones Remmer, and was a hooker, sleeping with powerful men. Our mother was spending allot of time at the Beverly Hills Hotel, and we always found a doggy bag with a partially eaten stake. The hotel name was on the bag. We went for days without seeing Rosemary. She would later tell me the people she had orgies with were too racy – even for her. My mother was oversexed – most of her life! She was a real Bond Woman. I keep reading all these newspaper articles that treats James Bond like he is a real person. Why not employ James to solve the mystery of…..
WHO KILLED JOHN (JACK) KENNEDY?
Rosemary Rosamond was fated to be involved in The Kennedy Assassination’s, being her mother and father camped with members of the Black Mask, including Dashiell Hammet. The Kennedy Murder has generated more words, more mounds of paper, and more ‘Pulp Fiction’ than any crime case. I mix fiction with fact, and, the theory the movie The Rock, suggests Bond came to the Bay Area – on business! Is it possible that the Nine Muses exist, and, they are on the case?
Sam Giancana – JFK Ties, Mistresses, and the Outfit – American Mafia History
The Rock’s Wild James Bond Theory Possibly Proven True on Reddit (cbr.com)
Assassination of John F. Kennedy – Wikipedia
Cal Neva Lodge & Casino – Wikipedia
I Am Heir To Bay Area Gangsterism
Posted on October 22, 2021 by Royal Rosamond Press
“Racketeers let children into joints!”
I posted this on my Remembering San Francisco Facebook The press covered the affect Bay Area gambling had on families – even children! For this alone the Presco family is famous. Now add my grandfather the gambler, and the founding hippies involvement with the Hell’s Angels, then I might be Heir to Outlawism. I met the major manufacturers of LSD. I believe I know how the Mafia got a LSD lab and started selling on the East Coast. Ken Babbs just published ‘Cronies’. Pot is now legal in Oregon and is a billion dollar industry, as is legal gambling in Nevada – and elsewhere! I don’t see any interest in politics from the Kesey Krowd, whose Springfield Son partied with the Hell’s Angels in La Honda. The KK is leaving it all up to Jerry Russ – and whomever – to carry the Hippie Political Branch. As to who is carrying the Hippie Spiritual Torch now that Allan Ginsberg’s tiny finger symbols have become silent – who gives a rat’s ass. Feeling omnipotent and all powerful is the name of the American Game!
John
Amazon.com: Customer reviews: Lanza’s Mob: The Mafia and San Francisco
This is Bones Corner a gambling joint at Taylor and Eddy owned by Big Bones Remmer who I met, along with his wife. My mother met Bones at the Key Club in Emeryville where she went to have a drink after work. She worked hard to feed her four children. Bones, put her to work. When there was a big bust, Rosemary fled to LA and left us in charge of a old hag – with a big wart on her chin! Every Halloween I think of her – our other mother. One neighbor read an article in the Tribune. A judge was considering putting the four Presco children in an orphanage. Then, Rosemary came and got us. Packed into her little Ford Anglia, we headed to La La Land. We were treated to the King Breakfast….in King City.
Rosamond Press 
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