Taming the Beast: Charles Manson's Life Behind Bars

by Edward George

  A psychiatrist wrote that Krenwinkel and Van Houten used common words in an abstract manner, shaping them into peculiar and often incomprehensible sentences. This was one hundred percent Mansonese. Squeaky and Sandra were the same, as were virtually all the others. How Manson had managed to clone himself into the minds of his Family was beyond comprehension. Even his followers didn’t have a convincing explanation for how he did it, or why they allowed it. And more puzzling still, none used Manson’s powerful influence to excuse their illegal actions. This must have driven their attorneys nuts as they clearly had a case in which the classic defense of “the devil made me do it” was applicable. Instead, the Family members accept the blame for their actions. If anything, they downplayed Manson’s influence in order to protect him. The level of their loyalty boggles the mind. They not only submitted to Manson mentally, physically, and sexually, they killed for him, then threw their lives away by taking the rap and being imprisoned for life. Incredible.

  I wrapped up my thoroughly disquieting trip down the Manson Family memory lane by devouring everything I could on Lynette Fromme. If I could determine what pushed her to the edge, and the warning signs she exhibited before her ill-fated assassination attempt, maybe I could identify the next Manson follower programmed to go berserk. I also wanted to get a bead on who was going to emerge as the new Manson Family leader on the outside.

  It was obvious that Squeaky was the strongest and most fervent of the Manson women. In hindsight, it was inevitable that she would be the one to do something monstrous for him and then die on her shield. Her love for Charlie was not woman to man, but woman to god. She was totally dedicated to carrying out his will to the point of both murder and self-sacrifice.

  The interprison files, police reports, local newspapers, and Vincent Bugliosi’s definitive book, Helter Skelter, revealed a disturbing series of events that led to Squeaky’s grand hurrah. On December 22, 1972, she ushered a hooded rat pack of four female Manson followers to the front gate of Folsom Prison. Each had an X carved into her forehead. The three women with Squeaky were identified as Nancy “Ice” Pitman, Maria “Crystal” Alonzo, and Sue Bartell. The files offered little background on the supporting trio.

  There were, however, pictures. In typical sledgehammer Manson fashion, the girls had previously dispatched photos to Folsom showing them clutching an impressive array of automatic weapons and submachine guns. That prompted prison officials to search the beat-up Dodge van they used that afternoon. Inside, the guards discovered a rifle scope, gun-cleaning materials, and several empty cartridge belts—all legal. Confronted, the eerie four admitted that they were doing a great deal of target practice in preparation for the coming revolution.

  The girls weren’t allowed visit Manson, but taking advantage of a loophole, they were allowed to visit other prisoners. These cons could then relay the messages to and from Charlie, thus establishing a critical line of communication.

  Like a Mafia don, Manson had trained his followers to insulate him at all costs. The girls on his infamous Hollywood murder spree had followed that policy well, confessing their involvement while absolving Manson of all blame. Prosecutor and Helter Skelter author Bugliosi saw through it and was able to crack their armor and convict Manson of conspiracy. Angered that he had taken the fall with his minions, Charlie reacted by laying a big guilt trip on them. He was incarcerated, he reasoned, not because of his deadly orders, but because his troops had failed to distance him from the horrors they had committed. It was thus their responsibility to make up for it by freeing him by any means.

  Squeaky was clearly overwhelmed by guilt and determination. She tried everything she could think of to spring her master, eventually going after the President in a desperate kamikaze run.

  The question was, what now? Which one of the men or women who continued to write and phone me on a daily basis was possibly being groomed for the latest shocking assault on the nation’s consciousness? Which was the ticking time bomb ready to embark upon another suicide mission for his or her leader? It was a question that was maddeningly hard to answer. How do you spot a festering rotten apple in a barrel of festering rotten apples? How do you weed out a sociopathic crazy from an entire clan of sociopathic crazies? They all sang the same tune, a warped, garbled version of Charlie’s rantings. They each spoke of massive violence, bloody revolutions, and worldwide catastrophes. How could anyone sort out the next assassin from such a menacing choir?

  I dug further, searching for a clue. On September 19, 1974, a month prior to Manson’s transfer back to Folsom, a note written in Manson’s distinctive hand was discovered during a search of another inmate’s cell. The note instructed the inmate to tell “them” where Manson was locked up in the prison and to find out if “they [can] help us over the fence if we get through the [barred] window.” It also suggested that grenades could “help us blow our way out.” The note cryptically concluded by asking “if Rainbow was in the north and if the queen of the south was out of jail.”

  Investigators believed that the inmate had found access to a prison phone and was to make a call for Manson. They also suspected that Rainbow was a code name for Squeaky and The Queen of the South, was Sandra, who had been in jail.

  The “Free Charlie” mania had actually consumed the Family from the moment the police dragged him from his rathole under the desert ranch house. During Manson’s trial, the cult leader’s followers stayed mainly in Southern California under the control of Squeaky. Learning from their master, the girls were well versed in enlisting men for their purposes, offering sex, drugs, and spirited conversations about a rebellion of the disenfranchised. A number of Aryan Brothers—some sent to them by Manson—joined with the women. The ABs were especially skilled at committing robberies for guns, ammunition, and money. One particular effort, a gun store robbery in 1971, nearly resulted in the theft of 140 weapons. It took a massive shoot-out by an army of cops to keep the thieves from getting away with the deadly arsenal.

  Investigators surmised that the goal of Manson’s followers who were involved was to accumulate enough guns, ammunition, and explosives to stage a commando raid on a prison or courthouse. The assault would be modeled after the aborted attempt by black revolutionary Jonathan Jackson to free his brother, riot starter George Jackson, during a courthouse shootout in August 1970. In addition some of the weapons could be sold to pay for the Family’s expenses.

  Another incident was particularly ominous. On October 20, 1971, a Manson associate named Kenneth Como escaped from the hall of records jail in Los Angeles. Como cut through the bars with a jeweler’s string smuggled in for him by a Manson follower, tied his bedsheets into a rope, and scaled down the side of the building from the thirteenth floor to the eighth. His “rope” was just long enough to enable him to kick out the courtroom window of Room 104—the same place where Manson had been tried. Como climbed inside the empty chambers, sauntered down the stairs, and walked out the door. Outside, Sandra Good just happened to be waiting there in a Family van.

  After such a daring escape, the upshot was almost comical. Como was forced to flee on foot when Sandra subsequently crashed the vehicle. (Sandra told police Como had “kidnapped” her and was driving at the time of the crash.) He was captured six hours later and eventually convicted of attempted robbery. The judge gave him fifteen to life.

  At the end of 1973, the Inyo County Sheriff’s Department and the U.S. Park Service monitored the activities of a small band of Manson followers that settled in a remote area of the Saline Valley near Death Valley, California. Among the original five was an unidentified woman with an X carved into her forehead, and T. J. Walleman, a tough, heavily bearded biker who wore black leather and dark shades. The quintet, which included an infant, drove two long four-wheel-drive wagons converted into campers. One of the vehicles pulled an open-bed trailer that carried a pair of chopper motorcycles. A month after their arrival, someone tried to rob a sporting goods store in nearby Ridgecrest by crashing a hot-wired bread truck throu
gh the rear doorway. Scared off by the loud noise and poor access, the culprit or culprits escaped empty-handed. Law-enforcement officials suspected Manson’s group, guessing that they were after the store’s gun supply. The police, however, were unable to pin it on them.

  After being spotted here and there for two months, the Walleman gang eventually put down roots at the Minnette Mine in Panamint Valley. A suspicious neighbor snooped around when the now ten-member, mostly female clan was away and discovered a tunnel loaded with enough food and supplies to enable a dozen or more people to hide underground for a year. There was also a large cache of weapons, ammunition, and explosives.

  Other citizens reported that the clan girls spent the year giggling and whispering that the Family would be at full strength by Christmas 1974. By “full strength,” the girls implied that their master, Manson, would soon be with them.

  Sure enough, on December 13, 1974, two Manson followers nearly escaped from Folsom by using a hacksaw blade to cut through the bars of their cells. The pair, Como and a multiple cop killer named Bobby Davis, almost pulled it off. They were fractions away from creating an opening when a guard found steel shaving outside Como’s cell window and exposed the plot. A third inmate, rapist-robber Gerald Gallant, was also in on the attempted break.

  It’s not known whether Manson intended to join them, but an incident that happened a year before is revealing. The trio had a violent disagreement that led to Como beating the tar out of his former guru in the Adjustment Center exercise yard. Como was so furious he refused to stop until the guards began firing warning shots. Manson was left shaken and bloodied. Como later explained to me that he was in love with a Manson girl named Catherine “Gypsy” Share, and that the relationship upset Charlie because he wanted his girls to love only him. Charlie sent word to Squeaky that the affair should end. Like a good Manson disciple, Gypsy obeyed, withholding her charms from the talented escape artist. Como was enraged, biding his time until he could personally express his anger. Manson’s misguided attempt at control not only resulted in a serious ass-kicking, he was obviously left out of the long-planned escape. (Como, still seething twenty-four months later, was one of the two ABs who attacked Manson in the Folsom yard in May 1975. Como eventually won Share back and married her.)

  Manson responded that incidents like that were the main reason he had so many women and so few men in his family. The women could adore and obey him as a lover-master, while the men often wanted little more than to fornicate with the gullible women and make them their own.

  After the escape plan was thwarted, a few Manson women used their feminine wiles to hook up with some of the Aryan Brothers. More robberies by the Aryan Brothers followed, with part of the cash used to pay lawyers to file Manson’s appeals.

  This group infested a resort area in Guerneville, California, near the Russian River. That put them fifty miles north of San Quentin. Many people came in and out of the house they rented, but the main residents were Nancy Pitman, 24, Priscilla Cooper, 21, “Crystal” Alonzo, 21, and Aryan Brothers Michael Lee Monfort, 24, James “Spider” Craig, 33, and William “the Iceman” Goucher, 23. The men were all ex-cons with Aryan Brother tattoos splashed across their chest.

  The gang met a young couple, James and Lauren “Reni” Willett, and invited them to stay at their flophouse. Usually, the Manson Family was a tight organization that was wary of strangers, but these strangers had something they wanted—a late-model station wagon. Lauren was an impressionable girl of eighteen who had been raised with a firm hand. The fast, free, easy lifestyle of the Manson clan was wildly appealing to the buxom blonde. James, twenty-six, was the son of a wealthy Kentucky whiskey distiller. James had been reared in Catholic schools and considered the priesthood before opting for a stint in the marines. With that background, it’s no surprise that he resisted his young wife’s infatuation with the Manson Family and tried to dissuade her from hanging around with them. He argued that it was no place to raise their newborn baby girl.

  James’s father came for a visit when they were living in another part of town. His father, naturally, was startled to learn that his daughter-in-law was associating with such a notorious group. Pulling up in a cab, Mr. Willett was so unnerved by the sight of Manson clan members around the house that he told the driver to wait, cutting his visit short. He pleaded with his son to leave with him, but James didn’t want to abandon his wife and child.

  Lauren, oblivious of their concerns, continued hanging around with her exciting new friends. James reluctantly went along. When the Vietnam veteran lost his federal job teaching underprivileged children due to a funding shortage, Lauren convinced him to help the Family move to Guerneville.

  Once there, James quickly realized that the tattooed men were supporting themselves and their women through armed robberies. He confronted Lauren with his suspicions, telling her that he was going to report them to the police. Lauren foolishly, and tragically, told the gang what her husband had said. She naively thought they could explain away their suspicious behavior and convince him to stay. However, the men invited the unsuspecting James for a walk, and that was the last time Lauren, or anybody else, ever saw him alive. She was told that he had simply split.

  A month later, a hitchhiker spotted a hand protruding from the soil in a wooded area near the Russian River a half mile from Guerneville. Police responded and discovered the decapitated body of James Willett dressed in a dark blue marine jacket. He’d been shot numerous times with a .22 pistol and blasted with a 20-gauge shotgun at point-blank range. The gruesome murder was reminiscent of the job Manson, Bruce Davis, Tex Watson, and Steve Grogan did on Hollywood stuntman Shorty Shea back in their Spahn Ranch days in 1969. Like James, Shorty was making noises about ratting on the Family. Like James, he was allegedly found chopped up and missing his head. (Other reports say the Manson crew merely bragged that they had decapitated Shea and cut off his arms in order to send a message about snitches. When police found Shea’s body, it was apparently in one piece.)

  Typically, the Manson men were as stupid as they were brutal. A week before the body was found, Monfort and Goucher were arrested for the armed robbery of a liquor store. Monfort was carrying James Willett’s identification papers and made bail under Willett’s name. Two women accompanied Goucher’s mother, Sarah, to the bail bondsman’s office. One identified herself as “Elizabeth Willett,” James’s sister, who was in Kentucky at the time. The other said she was Lauren Willett, James’s wife. “Elizabeth” said they needed to spring “James” so he could take care of his baby daughter.

  Once free, Monfort jumped bail. When James Willett’s body was found the Stockton, California, police realized what had happened and began a citywide manhunt. At the same time, the real Lauren Willett disappeared just as her husband had before her.

  Three days later, the police stormed a house in Stockton after spotting the Willetts’ station wagon parked out front. They kicked in the door and apprehended Monfort without a struggle. An alert officer noticed a shiny new shovel standing up in a corner with fresh earth caked on the blade. In a Manson house, that’s never a good sign. A search ensued. Another alert officer opened a trapdoor leading underneath the house and flashed his light on a pile of recently plowed soil. Shortly thereafter, the body of Lauren Willett was uncovered, a single .38 caliber bullet hole in the center of her forehead.

  Heidi Willett, the slain couple’s eight-month-old daughter, was blissfully playing on a blanket in the living room while her mother’s body was being removed from the premises. (Lauren’s parents eventually gained custody of the child.)

  The four people found at the home—Monfort, Craig, Pitman, and Cooper—were immediately arrested. Squeaky telephoned while the police were there and requested a ride from the county jail, where she was visiting Goucher. The officers obliged, arresting her.

  Lynette quickly squeaked out an alibi for Lauren’s murder. She was only in Stockton by coincidence and was dropping by to visit a friend. She admitted spending the p
revious Friday night at the Flora Street house where Lauren was killed—the day the medical examiners suspect the shooting took place—but pleaded ignorance and claimed that her permanent residence was a pad in San Francisco. As always, she fervently denied that Manson had ordered the Willetts’ murders.

  After initially claiming that Lauren died accidentally while playing Russian roulette (a claim other Manson Family members had made in 1969 after the shooting death of John “Zero” Haught in Venice), surprisingly Monfort pleaded guilty to an amended charge of murder two. Pitman, Cooper, and Craig pleaded guilty to being accessories to murder two. No charges were brought against Fromme in connection with the murder. Goucher confessed to murdering James Willett and implicated Monfort and Craig as being present. He said Squeaky had nothing to do with James Willett’s murder.

  The Willett family in Kentucky suffered more than just the loss of their son and daughter-in-law. For six months following the murder, a tag team of women began phoning at all hours, threatening them with bloody deaths, and promising to leave James’s severed head on their doorstep. The calls particularly terrified James’s fourteen-year-old sister, Alice, who was kept sheltered in her home for nearly a year as a precaution. She still recoils at the memory today.

  James Craig, suspected to have snitched in the Willetts’ murders to cut himself a better deal, was later found burning to death in the trunk of a copper-colored Dodge parked near Discovery Park, a small community on the outskirts of Sacramento. The car had been doused with gasoline and was engulfed in flames when the police arrived. A second man, Edward Barabas, was also in the trunk. He had been bound and shot in the face, and was dead. Craig had also been bound and shot in the face and neck, but remained alive. Rushed to the Sacramento Medical Center, the severely burned Craig repeatedly mumbled the same two words, “She’s dangerous.”