- Joined
- Jan 30, 2002
- Messages
- 7,269
Found this while wandering sites. Granted, it was back in 1997, but for some weird reason this story just delights me. I wonder what happened to the guy.
(Nice that he had receipts from Acapulco to prove his innocence of the thefts.)
Squatter evicted from dwelling under Music Building
Underground | Homeless man living in the Music Building for years is found in elaborate lair
Mike Roarke
Daily Staff
A 10-inch hacksaw blade wrapped in duct tape. The harmonious drone of an organ at odd hours in the Music Building. A pair of pornographic videos and 25 two-liter bottles filled with urine.
All of these things, when looked at individually, may seem randomly associated. But for a man that has made the depths of the Music Building his home for the past 12 years, each of these items played a significant role.
During finals week last quarter, UW policeofficers found James David Hodge, a 46-year-old "self-employed mathematician," tucked away in the lair that he had been using off and on for more than a decade.
Hodge's cubbyhole put to shame the encampment recently found under the steps of Suzzallo Library.
Hodge had almost everything that a person could want. This included lighting, two TVs and VCRs as well as basic stereo equipment. The electricity used to power his devices was harnessed from a nearby storage room by running a cord across the tops of water pipes and air shafts back to the north corner of the basement where he lived.
His musical preferences were classical and most would consider his selection of artwork tasteful.
Pictures of waterfalls adorned the walls and air ducts surrounding his enclave and he included a small replica of an ancient Greek statue for ambiance.
Mozart and other symphony recordings were neatly shelved in a tape carousel an arm's reach away from a desk that contained numerous technical manuals and textbooks dealing with math-related topics.
Another unusual item found in Hodge's lair was a very low maintenance cat - low because it had died and fossilized long ago.
Drafting equipment, an electric toothbrush, pornographic videos, a wine pitcher, two futons and a cot rounded out a collection of trinkets and larger knickknacks Hodge accumulated during his stint in the basement.
But no matter how many niceties the elusive transient chose to bring in, the area he inhabited was still primitive.
One of the drawbacks was the absence of a toilet and running water. To compensate for this problem, Hodge stored his body waste in empty two-liter pop bottles, which accumulated in his living sanctuary since he had no handy place to dispose of them. UW engineers who cleaned the premises say they removed 25 to 30 of the containers.
The largest problem that Hodge had to tackle was getting into his home: bypassing the locked door in an inconspicuous way. Room 47 in the basement of the Music Building was his only point of access. Inside the room are numerous ventilation ducts and water pipes. Room 47 is not frequented by people other than maintenance crews.
Hodge used a 10-inch hacksaw blade wrapped in duct tape to slip the lock on the door in a manner that would not leave scratches on the locking mechanism and arouse suspicion. After he got in, he would crouch and walk under a series of air vents until the space opened into a larger room.
From there he would proceed to the corner of the basement and crawl on his back or chest in a very narrow space for 12 feet until he reached his domicile, where the area opened up and he had room for himself and his belongings.
He even took the precaution of installing a false plywood wall that would obstruct the view of anyone that happened to get on their knees and look under the air shafts toward his complex.
Officer Chris Clewell of the UW Police Department described Hodge as an "entertaining and nice person." He was also surprised that Hodge could live in the area for so long and go relatively undetected.
"This guy was really careful not to leave any sign he lived there," Clewell said.
However, each man has his vices and this is where the saga of James David Hodge takes a bizarre turn. Apparently, the daring squatter could not resist taking advantage of the perks that come with living in the Music Building. This included the easy access to many musical instruments and Hodge, according to officer Clewell, had worked as an organist for a previous employer.
Hodge's nest happened to be located almost directly underneath the organ room in the building. Late at night, or when the room was unoccupied, he would climb up through a "trap door" in the basement underneath the organ room and start playing.
John Gibbs, assistant head of the Music Library, said that burn marks were left on the instrument from where Hodge set his cigarette while he was using it.
Hodge's eerie mimicking of the Phantom of the Opera was, however, not his downfall. The final curtain abruptly crashed down two weeks ago, with the UW Police Department yanking the rope.
According to a police report, several staff workers in the Music Building saw Hodge exit the mechanical room at various times, which led them to believe that he might have been living there since the door is always locked.
Officers Anthony Craig and Clewell went in to investigate the situation, which ended with Craig crawling into the den, pushing through the false wall and finding Hodge hiding in a corner.
Clewell said that Hodge was upset about being evicted from his home that had been part of his life for the last 12 years. He even justified his presence by citing the Homestead Act of 1862 and claiming that he had made improvements to the government property over the course of his stay thereby giving him a rightful claim to the space. Attorneys from the UW refused to comment on the validity of Hodge's assertion.
UW police officers questioned Hodge about property that had been stolen from the building over the past two months, but he was able to produce bank receipts that showed he was in Acapulco, Mexico, at the time the crimes occurred.
Clewell also noted that Hodge indicated he had plans of leaving the country and going to Holland to become a mathematics professor at an unnamed university.
His scheme may have to wait for a while. Last week, UWPD filed criminal trespassing charges against him and it will be about a month before the King County prosecutor decides on whether to follow through on the matter.
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Copyright © 1997 The Daily of the University of Washington
(Nice that he had receipts from Acapulco to prove his innocence of the thefts.)
Squatter evicted from dwelling under Music Building
Underground | Homeless man living in the Music Building for years is found in elaborate lair
Mike Roarke
Daily Staff
A 10-inch hacksaw blade wrapped in duct tape. The harmonious drone of an organ at odd hours in the Music Building. A pair of pornographic videos and 25 two-liter bottles filled with urine.
All of these things, when looked at individually, may seem randomly associated. But for a man that has made the depths of the Music Building his home for the past 12 years, each of these items played a significant role.
During finals week last quarter, UW policeofficers found James David Hodge, a 46-year-old "self-employed mathematician," tucked away in the lair that he had been using off and on for more than a decade.
Hodge's cubbyhole put to shame the encampment recently found under the steps of Suzzallo Library.
Hodge had almost everything that a person could want. This included lighting, two TVs and VCRs as well as basic stereo equipment. The electricity used to power his devices was harnessed from a nearby storage room by running a cord across the tops of water pipes and air shafts back to the north corner of the basement where he lived.
His musical preferences were classical and most would consider his selection of artwork tasteful.
Pictures of waterfalls adorned the walls and air ducts surrounding his enclave and he included a small replica of an ancient Greek statue for ambiance.
Mozart and other symphony recordings were neatly shelved in a tape carousel an arm's reach away from a desk that contained numerous technical manuals and textbooks dealing with math-related topics.
Another unusual item found in Hodge's lair was a very low maintenance cat - low because it had died and fossilized long ago.
Drafting equipment, an electric toothbrush, pornographic videos, a wine pitcher, two futons and a cot rounded out a collection of trinkets and larger knickknacks Hodge accumulated during his stint in the basement.
But no matter how many niceties the elusive transient chose to bring in, the area he inhabited was still primitive.
One of the drawbacks was the absence of a toilet and running water. To compensate for this problem, Hodge stored his body waste in empty two-liter pop bottles, which accumulated in his living sanctuary since he had no handy place to dispose of them. UW engineers who cleaned the premises say they removed 25 to 30 of the containers.
The largest problem that Hodge had to tackle was getting into his home: bypassing the locked door in an inconspicuous way. Room 47 in the basement of the Music Building was his only point of access. Inside the room are numerous ventilation ducts and water pipes. Room 47 is not frequented by people other than maintenance crews.
Hodge used a 10-inch hacksaw blade wrapped in duct tape to slip the lock on the door in a manner that would not leave scratches on the locking mechanism and arouse suspicion. After he got in, he would crouch and walk under a series of air vents until the space opened into a larger room.
From there he would proceed to the corner of the basement and crawl on his back or chest in a very narrow space for 12 feet until he reached his domicile, where the area opened up and he had room for himself and his belongings.
He even took the precaution of installing a false plywood wall that would obstruct the view of anyone that happened to get on their knees and look under the air shafts toward his complex.
Officer Chris Clewell of the UW Police Department described Hodge as an "entertaining and nice person." He was also surprised that Hodge could live in the area for so long and go relatively undetected.
"This guy was really careful not to leave any sign he lived there," Clewell said.
However, each man has his vices and this is where the saga of James David Hodge takes a bizarre turn. Apparently, the daring squatter could not resist taking advantage of the perks that come with living in the Music Building. This included the easy access to many musical instruments and Hodge, according to officer Clewell, had worked as an organist for a previous employer.
Hodge's nest happened to be located almost directly underneath the organ room in the building. Late at night, or when the room was unoccupied, he would climb up through a "trap door" in the basement underneath the organ room and start playing.
John Gibbs, assistant head of the Music Library, said that burn marks were left on the instrument from where Hodge set his cigarette while he was using it.
Hodge's eerie mimicking of the Phantom of the Opera was, however, not his downfall. The final curtain abruptly crashed down two weeks ago, with the UW Police Department yanking the rope.
According to a police report, several staff workers in the Music Building saw Hodge exit the mechanical room at various times, which led them to believe that he might have been living there since the door is always locked.
Officers Anthony Craig and Clewell went in to investigate the situation, which ended with Craig crawling into the den, pushing through the false wall and finding Hodge hiding in a corner.
Clewell said that Hodge was upset about being evicted from his home that had been part of his life for the last 12 years. He even justified his presence by citing the Homestead Act of 1862 and claiming that he had made improvements to the government property over the course of his stay thereby giving him a rightful claim to the space. Attorneys from the UW refused to comment on the validity of Hodge's assertion.
UW police officers questioned Hodge about property that had been stolen from the building over the past two months, but he was able to produce bank receipts that showed he was in Acapulco, Mexico, at the time the crimes occurred.
Clewell also noted that Hodge indicated he had plans of leaving the country and going to Holland to become a mathematics professor at an unnamed university.
His scheme may have to wait for a while. Last week, UWPD filed criminal trespassing charges against him and it will be about a month before the King County prosecutor decides on whether to follow through on the matter.
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Copyright © 1997 The Daily of the University of Washington