Four go to watch fistfight, 2 survive

They were four guys hanging out together on a cool spring night.

Four teens, looking for something to do - something more exciting than cruising up and down the strips south of Everett. Best friends, who thought watching a fistfight might be just the thing.

At the end of the night, there were only two.

Jesse Stoner and Jason Thompson, both 18, were killed as they sat in the back seat of a car fleeing the scene of the fistfight that escalated into a shootout.

Snohomish County prosecutors on Thursday charged Dennis Cramm, 17, with two counts of second-degree murder. They say that after the fistfight with another teen on May 30, Cramm fired an assault rifle as cars pulled away from his house.

Cramm's defense attorney, Royce Ferguson of Everett, said he likely will argue his client was acting in self-defense: Someone else in the crowd fired first; the teens who had come to watch the fistfight were in Cramm's yard. Cramm has pleaded not guilty.

Some experts say the mixture of elements that night - young men pumped to fight, guns at hand - was a volatile one, and it shouldn't have been a surprise when the results turned deadly.

"One of the oldest American traditions is that fistfights lead to duels, and the duels will tell you who is best," according Stephen Glenn, a child and family advocate who was the keynote speaker at a presidential summit last year in Washington, D.C., on school violence and youth safety. "Too many kids today embrace violence as a way to get a rush, as a way to get status."

Theories abound about what happened on May 30. Some have speculated the fight was drug-, money- or race-related (Cramm is white; his opponent is black). Some said it was personal, sparked by a dirty look.

But to Thompson and Stoner's best friends, to Dennis Cramm's friends and relatives, to the kids who thought they were just going to watch a fistfight, and to the parents who didn't know what their kids were up to, the night still doesn't make sense.

Friend told them about the fight

Thompson and Stoner didn't even know the accused shooter, their friend Adrian Dickerson said. Neither did Dickerson or Chris Gulsvig, the other member of the foursome, who was driving that night.

They went to Cramm's house in South Everett because another friend told them to. They'd been going to race go-carts when the friend, a 16-year-old, called Dickerson's cell phone to say he was going to fight Cramm and wanted them to watch.

They didn't know why the two were fighting; their friend just told them to be at the beach near the Mukilteo ferry landing at 7 p.m.

"It's the same reason people want to watch action movies," said Gulsvig, 18, a student at ACES Alternative High School in Everett. "It's why people watch boxing. It's entertaining."

The four friends spent a lot of time - on the weekends, but school nights, too - driving around, scanning the strip-mall parking lots for other kids out doing the same thing.

"We were parking-lot partyers," Gulsvig said.

Watching their friend take on another kid at the Mukilteo beach sounded as good as anything that night.

Kids headed for South Everett

But Dennis Cramm didn't show. According to his lawyer, he'd decided not to fight.

The 16-year-old and some of his friends called Cramm from a pay phone once they realized he wasn't coming, Dickerson said. The next thing Dickerson knew, the dozen or so kids that had gathered at the beach headed to Cramm's house.

A wrestler and star pitcher for the Mariner High baseball team, Cramm got picked on a lot at the school, where he'd been a junior, said classmates. Some of his friends avoided being seen with him.

But he was also known for not taking an insult sitting down.

"He walked around always trying to show he's tough," recalled former classmate Erica Solomon.

The second fighter, a student at ACES Alternative High School, was also known as a tough kid. He has not been charged. Fearing retaliation, he has asked not to be named in news stories.

Last fall, the 16-year-old and a handful of his friends were accused of attacking a Mariner student outside the school library, according to the Snohomish County Sheriff's Office. They knocked the student down, kicked him and punched him repeatedly in the head and chest. His offense, students told police, was looking at one of his attackers the wrong way at a party.

The 16-year-old, who had been a student at Mariner, was expelled and charged with rioting. He pleaded guilty last month and was sentenced to three months of community supervision and 24 hours of community service. His friends crowded behind him when he walked up to Dennis Cramm in Cramm's yard the night of the fistfight.

Cramm had supporters behind him, too: his father, Dale Cramm; a handful of teenage friends, and a couple of men in their 20s who lived with the Cramms, according to court records. Dale Cramm could not be reached for comment and his home telephone number has been disconnected.

Dickerson said Dennis Cramm rushed the 16-year-old, who then threw the first punch. Both fought for about 10 minutes before tiring.

"It didn't really look like they were hurting each other," Dickerson said. "It wasn't particularly a whole lot of blood."

Dickerson said he himself jumped in at one point, after Cramm's father entered the fray. "I bear-hugged him and threw him against the car," Dickerson said. "Then I apologized to him, and shook his hand."

Witnesses told police that one man at the fight, a 24-year-old living with the Cramms, had two handguns tucked in the back of his pants.

As Dickerson tussled with Dale Cramm, two friends of the 16-year-old fighter took the guns away from the 24-year-old man, witnesses told police. Then, one after the other, they walked away and fired into the air, according to court papers.

People ran and jumped into their cars when they heard the gunfire, according to court documents. A number of weapons were in the house and yard beforehand, police said.

Seven bullets from an assault rifle hit Gulsvig's car, the last to leave. He sped off, not stopping until he reached the parking lot of a Cost Cutter Foods store a couple of miles away. There, he called police.

Stoner and Thompson were dead, each shot in the head and body.

Where were the parents?

It happened on a Tuesday night, which made people wonder: What were these kids doing out? Where were the parents?

Kimberlee Dickerson, Adrian's mother, was attending her younger son's band concert that night.

She said she worries about her sons. Adrian's a good kid, she said: He took college classes during high school, just graduated from Mariner and is two classes short of an associate's degree from Edmonds Community College.

She worried about things she can't control, like car wrecks, but never worried about fights, and certainly not guns.

"They're teenagers, and, yes, they've done some things that have really (made us mad)," she said. "But they're not mean kids. They're just big-hearted kids wanting to have a good time."

Gulsvig, Dickerson, Stoner and Thompson knew each other from childhood. They grew up in a modest neighborhood of apartments and single-family homes south of Everett.

Jesse Stoner rapped with Jason Thompson in a band called the Unseen Mob. Stoner idolized Pee Wee Herman. He was the class clown who could make anyone crack a smile. He was pursuing a GED, and was days away from his 19th birthday.

Jason Thompson was a big, friendly football player who made everyone feel comfortable. He had played for Mariner before transferring to ACES Alternative High School. He was just about to graduate.

The news spread quickly after the shootings as crowds gathered near the Cramm house and at Cost Cutter.

Kimberlee Dickerson heard about the shootings from her sister after the band concert. She hurried to Cost Cutter Foods, then waited for what seemed like hours while police interviewed her son.

Finally, he reached her, his body slumped and his face down. "He said, `Oh Mamma.' And I held him, my little boy."

"How do I say I'm happy my son is here when Jason and Jesse are gone?"

Weapon has not been recovered

The gun prosecutors allege Dennis Cramm used that night was a Chinese SKS semiautomatic assault rifle. It has not been recovered, prosecutors said last week. Charges were filed based on witness statements.

Snohomish County Sheriff's deputies did find other weapons throughout the Cramm house, according to a search-warrant affidavit. They found a long-barreled shotgun under a car, a rifle case on the ground, and a metal-looking tube with tape on one end and nails sticking out on the other, the report said.

Chris Dinsmore, one of the Cramms' boarders, acknowledged there was a Chinese SKS rifle under his bed, according to court records.

Still, Dinsmore says, the family's home life has been misconstrued.

"That's one thing I'm sick of hearing - all this talk about guns laying out, about 20 guns in the house," Dinsmore said. "I don't even think I've seen 10."

Police said they also found marijuana and heroin in the house, and arrested Dale Cramm on suspicion of possessing heroin and possessing marijuana with intent to sell. The arrest came two days after the fight, when Dale Cramm called police to say he was arming himself with a shotgun because a carload of people were threatening him. That was the same day his son turned himself into police. On Friday, Dale Cramm was charged with three narcotics offenses.

Problems blamed on drugs

Friends say Dennis Cramm started having problems this year because of drugs. He agreed to enter drug counseling after a fight he had with his mother, Jacqueline Cramm, in January.

He had punched her and threatened to kill her, repeating the threat after Snohomish County Sheriff's deputies came to arrest him.

"Dennis wanted to convince me that he was going to kill his mother when released," the deputy wrote in a statement. "I am thoroughly convinced."

Cramm pleaded guilty to intimidating a witness - his mother.

"I knew it was wrong," he wrote to the court. "I'm sorry; I'm in counseling starting May 8, 2000."

In group sessions, however, he made racial slurs, and drew swastikas and wrote "White Power" in his treatment notebook, according to court documents. He tested positive for THC, the active ingredient in marijuana, in a May 8 urinalysis test.

Cramm's paternal grandmother said the fight with Jacqueline Cramm was the first time the teenager had been in trouble with the police, and that people have gotten the wrong idea about her grandson, and the rest of the family.

"We are humans. We're not animals, and he's not either," she said, asking not to be named for fear of harassment. "They're not the Cleaver family . . . but they're not terrible people."

Dale Cramm works as a maintenance technician at Weyerhaeuser. He always attended his son's baseball games and other sports events, the grandmother said. They hunted and fished together.

Jacqueline Cramm spoke proudly to neighbors about her son's grades. The grandmother said he'd have been the first in the family to go to college. He'd gotten letters of interest from prestigious universities around the country, friends said.

But Dennis Cramm is in Snohomish County Jail with bail set at $500,000. If convicted, he faces 31 to 48 years in prison.

Snohomish County Prosecutor James Krider said the case remains under investigation. The possibility remains open that charges against Cramm could be upgraded to first-degree murder, Krider said.

Memorial held for victims

In the aftermath of the shootings, a makeshift memorial for Stoner and Thompson quickly went up in the Cost Cutter parking lot. Fellow students received counseling. A memorial service for the two victims was held at Mariner High on June 3.

But there also have been lingering fears of retaliation.

Cramm family members say they've been threatened. Mothers of the youths who watched the fight said they're worried, too.

Dickerson said he'll never go to a fight at someone's house again. He still sees Stoner and Thompson every time he gets in the car.

"I'm mad and I want to cry," he said. "I want to laugh, but when I try to laugh, I cry. I'm really mad. But I don't know what I'm mad at."

Janet Burkitt's phone message number is 425-745-7814. Her e-mail address is jburkitt@seattletimes.com

Keiko Morris' phone message number is 425-745-7804. Her e-mail address is kmorris@seattletimes.com