Residents of this bedroom community were becoming more fearful each day of the man they dubbed the "Parking Nazi." According to the Boston Globe, somebody had been vandalizing illegally parked cars in the Jamaica Plain area for several months.

Paint was scratched with a key or screw driver. Sometimes spray paint was used to deface cars. Almost always there was a note left under the windshield, scolding the driver for a specific parking infraction.

Some victims went to the police but claim they got a "ho-hum" response with a suggestion that neighbors get together and solve the problem among themselves. But these neighbors were in no mood for vigilante justice.

Instead, they formed neighborhood "crime watch" groups. When groups met, organizers carefully compared handwriting in the sign-in books with samples of notes left on windshields by the Jamaica Plain vandal.

What the neighbors didn’t realize was the "Parking Nazi" — we’ll call him Rupert — also attended these same neighborhood "crime watch" meetings. Apparently he was watching his own back, although he didn’t glean any useful information.

This wasn’t simply a case of car vandalism, neighbors explained, it was more like somebody was stalking them. The notes were specific about the violation but with small hints included to indicate the vandal knew something about the drivers.

After many months of aggravating the neighborhood, Rupert finally got arrested and was held under a $100,000 cash bond. He was arrested when he key-scratched a van with Texas plates on it. That particular van was occupied by Boston Police undercover narcotics agents working a drug case, unrelated to car vandalism. The (incidental) arrest cleared a dozen or so other car vandalism cases in Jamaica Plain.

There’s a definite plus side to this series of events. At the beginning of the reign of the "Parking Nazi" neighbors often suspected each other. But as the crime watch meetings started bringing people together, they learned more about each other. In some cases, new friendships were formed.

Commented one of the neighbors, "Uncannily, he (the Parking Nazi) kind of brought people together, giving us something in common to talk and worry about."