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Man From ‘I Am a Stalker’ Back In Court For, You Guessed It, Stalking

Summary for the Curious but Committed to Minimal Effort

  • John R. Anderson III—featured in Netflix’s 2022 true-crime series “I Am a Stalker”—has returned to court in Ogle County facing 11 new felony counts including aggravated stalking, harassment and multiple alleged violations of an order of protection for tactics like planting a GPS device in his ex-girlfriend’s car and leaving “cupcakes” on her vehicle.
  • Court records describe a tech-driven harassment campaign: scheduling events on her iPhone calendar, sending thousands of spoofed calls and texts via number-masking apps, emailing and writing letters (even from prison), issuing Snapchat requests, and misusing her Amazon Alexa to try to contact their child.
  • Anderson, who served six years for aggravated stalking in 2019 and was released under a 2024 protection order, remains jailed after a judge denied pretrial release—citing his persistent recidivism—and is due back in court on September 3.

In what feels less like breaking news and more like an inevitable rerun, John R. Anderson III—the same John featured in Netflix’s 2022 true crime series “I Am a Stalker”—has made his return to court in Ogle County. This time, Anderson, now 42, is facing 11 new felony charges, including aggravated stalking, harassment, and multiple alleged violations of an order of protection. The alleged victim? The very woman at the center of his previous convictions and, coincidentally, the Netflix episode that first made Anderson’s “talents” infamous.

Same Script, Different Season

Shaw Local News Network reports that the newest chapter in Anderson’s saga involves tactics that are both brazen and bizarre: court records indicate that Anderson allegedly planted a GPS device in his former girlfriend’s car, parked outside her home and workplace for hours, and placed “cupcakes” on her vehicle. If there’s a checklist for contemporary stalking methods, Anderson appears to be marking boxes with creative determination. According to the outlet, his efforts extended across technology, involving scheduled events on her iPhone calendar, emails, letters (even while incarcerated), and an impressive onslaught of calls—sometimes spoofed to look like they originated from trusted sources, such as the Rochelle Police Department.

Officials cited in the report detailed how Anderson used apps to mask his phone number, launched a barrage of thousands of calls and texts, and even leveraged social media platforms like Snapchat to send communication requests. The woman’s Amazon Alexa device didn’t escape notice either; Anderson allegedly used it to try to contact a child they share. Shaw Local also highlights the particularly surreal moment when police officers, present at the woman’s residence in response to a complaint, witnessed a harassing call from a number claiming to be their own department.

One can only marvel at the persistence, if not the judgment. Is there a smart device, communication platform, or sundry household item left untried in this digital marathon? And to what end—cupcakes as olive branch?

Legal Déjà Vu: The Resurgence of a Familiar Face

Describing Anderson’s legal journey, the outlet notes that he was previously sentenced to six years in prison for aggravated stalking in DeKalb County (2019), a case that became the backbone of his Netflix infamy. As previously documented, Anderson’s release was met with apprehension from those familiar with the relentless nature of his pursuit, and the ink was barely dry on a 2024 order of protection when these latest allegations surfaced last December and January.

During a late July detention hearing, Assistant Ogle County State’s Attorney Matthew Leisten recounted, as recorded in court transcripts, that Anderson himself admitted to “blowing up” the woman’s phone when he grew angry or felt slighted. At one point, Anderson dismissed concerns about a parole violation and, in perhaps the least surprising revelation of the week, stated that he called the victim “thousands of times.” The persistence wasn’t limited to phone activity, either; a letter sent from prison and acts of physical surveillance were also cited as continued violations.

When Anderson’s attorney, according to the report, argued for pretrial release—proposing home confinement, GPS monitoring, and a faith-based rehabilitation program, while acknowledging Anderson’s struggles with addiction and trauma—the State expressed little confidence in these measures. Leisten referenced Anderson’s criminal history, which stretches across Ogle, Winnebago, and DeKalb counties, as well as an outstanding case in Arkansas, arguing that no conditions would effectively curb Anderson’s conduct. In a note that would be almost comedic if not for the circumstances, Judge Anthony Peska voiced resignation rather than optimism: Anderson, he stated, had managed to violate protective orders even from within the Department of Corrections.

With that, Anderson remains in jail, awaiting his next court date on September 3. Truth, it seems, really is stranger (and more redundant) than fiction.

The Pattern That Refuses To Be Broken

For those familiar with Anderson’s arc—or those who watched the Netflix episode expecting closure—this latest chapter offers a sort of grim symmetry. As outlined by Shaw Local, the alleged actions draw a perfect circle back to the very behavior that landed Anderson on national television and behind bars in the first place. When a person has called, messaged, and tracked someone across nearly every conceivable channel (and continues even while incarcerated), it poses the uncomfortable question: are our current legal guardrails genuinely capable of stopping determined fixations, or just slowing them down?

From an archivist’s perspective, this case could serve as a master class in stubborn recidivism and modern stalking’s technological evolution. Between digital breadcrumbs, courtroom transcripts, and a trail of cupcakes, one wonders how history will record episodes like these. Perhaps, beneath the inevitable headlines, this is what real-life pattern recognition looks like: persistent, unsettling … and deeply resistant to plot twists.

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