The Persistence of Memory

In February 1972, when the California Supreme Court ruled that capital punishment violated the state constitution’s ban on “cruel or unusual punishments,” it gave the 102 men and 5 women on death row a reason to hope. And something else they never dreamed they would have. A future. Their sentences became life with the possibility of parole.

Paul S. Perveler was one of the lucky ones. Over the next several years, he was a model prisoner. In 1982, impressed with his institutional record, the Board of Prison Terms gave him a parole date of August 6, 1985. He’d spent a few years on death row, and over a decade in the general population. He longed to begin a life beyond the walls.

Outside the prison was someone who knew Paul’s history in a way the Board of Prison Terms never could. His former wife, Lela Halverson. Unlike the others whose lives Paul disrupted, Lela survived—and remembered.

Lela turned to Assemblyman Patrick Nolan for help. Nolan initiated a statewide petition drive to keep Paul incarcerated. He called Paul “a cold, calculating killer.”

Lela told reporters that after Paul’s conviction he told his minister that “someday, some way, he would get out of prison and kill me.” She believed him. Paul had remarried in prison, and his wife had made inquiries about Lela’s whereabouts—and that frightened her. But her fear wasn’t enough to silence her.

Public opinion is a powerful tool. Lela and Nolan announced the petition drive from the corner of McCarthy Drive and Caledonia Way in Glendale. Lela spoke about the significance of the location. She recalled that in June 1966, “I was coming home from a meeting and he got in front of my car. He started beating me inside the car, then he dragged me out and started pounding my head against the pavement.” Later that year, hit-and-run autos struck her twice. She didn’t believe in coincidence. She divorced Paul that same year.

In 1982, after news of Paul’s parole date broke, Lela spoke out, “I try not to dwell on it, but it’s always in the back of my mind. I have this great fear. It’s almost like going through that trial again, but this time it’s worse because I know of the brutality he is capable of. During the trial, I didn’t know everything.”

The reason for Lela’s fear lay in two murders Paul had committed years earlier.

In early December 1966, the Los Angeles County Fire Department responded to a routine call at a home on the 2700 block of Ballard Street in El Sereno.

After they extinguished the blaze, they discovered the charred body of Marlin Cromwell sprawled on the couch in the living room. At first, it appeared he had died in the fire. A closer look revealed multiple gunshot wounds inflicted by a small-caliber gun. Kristina, accompanied by the couple’s four-year-old son, was visiting with friends in Twenty-Nine Palms when the murder occurred.

About midnight on April 20, 1968, Cheryl Perveler pulled her convertible Jaguar into the carport of the Burbank apartment where she lived with Paul. A few minutes later, neighbors reported hearing three gunshots. Apartment manager John E. Miller went out to the carport and found Cheryl in the driver’s seat unconscious and bleeding. An ambulance was called and rushed her to Burbank Hospital. They later transferred her to County General where she died without regaining consciousness. She had been married to Paul for about six weeks.

The sixteen-month gap between the murders obscured the relationship between the two crimes. Had the deaths occurred close together, investigators would likely have examined Paul and Kristina’s affair much sooner.

Paul might never have been caught if he had not confided in a co-worker at the Auto Club details of Marlin’s murder. It was a serious miscalculation. The co-worker went to the police.

It took about two weeks for detectives to unravel the murder plot. On May 1, 1968, the police jailed Paul and Kristina. Detectives booked both Paul and Kristina on suspicion of murder in the deaths of their spouses.

At the time of Paul and Kristina’s arrest, detectives told reporters that Paul’s ex-wife, Lela, was deliberately run down by a car in 1965 and was the target of a car which jumped a curb in 1966. Paul would have received $32,000 in double indemnity insurance if she had died.

Juries prefer a case with an understandable motive. Sometimes they don’t get one. But here the D.A. offered them a common one, and one they could comprehend—greed. According to the prosecution, Paul committed the murders so he and Kristina could cash in on two hefty double-indemnity life insurance policies.

In fact, Marlin’s policy paid Kristinia $75,000. She and Paul used most of the money to purchase another Burbank cocktail bar—Paul already owned one.

A jury convicted Kristina Cromwell for her role in the murders, and she served 7 years of a life sentence before being released in 1976.

Paul received the death penalty for the murders and for the attempted murder of Lela.

Paul’s death sentence gave Lela breathing room. The change in his sentence shattered her peace. Once free, he could make good on his pledge to kill her. Would she have to look over her shoulder for the rest of her life?

Lela continued to pressure the parole board. She requested a hearing, and in June 1983, she presented the board with 20,000 signatures from residents of Patrick Nolan’s district, where the murders occurred. As the only survivor of Paul’s murder for money plots, Lela revealed more about him than was in his prison file.

The parole board only saw his exemplary record, college education, self-awareness groups for prisoners, favorable psychiatric reports, praise from prison staffers, and a 1978 marriage that offered him new stability.

Paul opted out of the hearing, which gave Lela the perfect opportunity to speak. “I’m thrilled and delighted we’ve finally been heard and that we have a chance for justice.” She spoke of the severe beating at Paul’s hands. “He tried six times to kill me. I will never forget the feeling of the bones of my face crunching, the smashing of my head against the pavement and the taste of my own blood in my throat while he was choking me. I knew I was going to die.”

She said he had lain in wait for her before the attack and had doused himself with alcohol afterward so he could claim he attacked her in a drunken, jealous rage and that he wasn’t trying to kill her.

Kristina Cromwell confirmed Lela’s testimony and offered her own perspective into Paul’s plans. She described how he intended to commit the murders over a three-year period.

She said in 1965, Paul shot his father from a passing car on Baja Highway south of Tijuana. “We were going to overtake them on a road where there were cliffs, and he was going to shoot out of the back window.” A bullet struck Joseph Perveler on the right side of his nose. His father recovered and died later of other causes. The shooting was never reported to U.S. authorities.

Kristina told of Paul’s plot to murder Lela while on a Memorial Day outing in the San Gabriel Mountains and make it look like an accident.

She told the parole board that three other times Paul had struck Lela with his car.

Paul planned to kill Marlin while he and Kristina vacationed in Mexico in 1966, but she refused to cooperate and fled to Los Angeles. “He told me if he had caught me on the way back to the border, he would have killed me.” He said if she refused to cooperate in her husband’s murder again, he would kill her son.

Kristina revealed that she and Paul were going to kill Lela and described the plan. She was to wait in her car and honk the horn as Lela’s VW neared the house. Paul would emerge from his hiding place, attack Lela until she was unconscious, and stuff her body in the back seat. But after the attack, Paul ran to Kristinia in a panic. Kristina convinced him to pour alcohol on his clothes and tell police he’d been drinking.

Asked why she never reported Paul to the police. She said she loved him and did whatever he wanted.

The board was convinced by the women to rescind Paul’s parole. Lela said: “Our system worked as it should have worked. It’s just unfortunate that I had to go through all that I have.”

Paul showed little emotion as he heard the ruling. Asked how he felt, he said, “Tired, wiped out and gutted.”

At least for a time Lela could rest easy; but the fight would begin again in six months when his parole status would be reviewed.

Paul’s persistence in pursuit of a goal was evident from his continued attempts to kill anyone who stood between him and a large insurance payout.

Lela was persistent, too. But hers wasn’t destructive—it was restorative. She wanted the truth to become part of the permanent record.

Over the next decade, she had to summon her strength repeatedly to keep Paul behind bars.

Lela prevailed.

In 1992, in the landmark case Perveler v. Estelle (1992), the Ninth Circuit affirmed that California’s parole board acted within its legal rights when it rescinded Paul’s parole date based on newly uncovered evidence of his dangerous past. Paul would remain in prison.

For years, Paul Perveler tried to persuade parole authorities that they misunderstood him. In the end, it was Lela Halverson and Kristina Cromwell who persuaded them that indeed they had.



NOTE: My thanks to Blake Leung for introducing me to this case. He pointed me to an extraordinary story hidden in the archives.


Sources

This story was researched using contemporary newspapers, court records, parole proceedings, archival collections, and other primary and secondary sources.


Research Note

The historical record is never complete. This narrative reflects the best available evidence at the time of publication. Any errors or omissions are my own.



The Hillside Strangler: MGM+ Docuseries

I was interviewed over the summer for this four-part docuseries. The Hillside Strangler case was one of the worst in Los Angeles’ history.

One of the killers, Angelo Buono, died in prison in 2002. His cousin, and accomplice, Kenneth Bianchi, remains in prison. May he rot.

The most important names to remember are those of their victims:

Yolanda Washington
Judity Miller
Lissa Kastin
Delores Cepeda and Sonja Johnson
Kristina Weckler
Evelyn Jame King
Lauren Wagner
Kimberly Martin
Cindy Hudspeth

Here is the trailer.

Double Trouble: Conclusion

At 20-years-old, Robert Schoengarth could have kicked heroin and started over. But heroin is a hard habit to break. Heroin attaches to opioid receptors in the brain and nervous system, like natural endorphins, so the brain adapts with regular use. Getting clean isn’t a matter of willpower. You are fighting your altered chemistry. Withdrawal from heroin, while not often life-threatening, can be so painful you pray for death.

In September 1957, Robert married June Leach in Las Vegas. They had a daughter, but the marriage didn’t last. We can only speculate about what drove them apart.

From the time he was a teenager, Robert moved between California and Colorado. He had trouble with the law in both places.

In January 1963, an anonymous tip alerted the LAPD’s Hollywood division that Colorado wanted Robert for felony robbery and theft. They busted him near Klump Avenue and La Maida Street in North Hollywood. 6

Robert confessed to stealing from a Ventura Boulevard business after his arrest for suspected burglary. He had drugs on him—a vial with 45 pink pills in it. He told officers he came to North Hollywood to score dope.

Robert’s brother, William, had his own problems. In 1956, Burbank police arrested William and two other men for burglarizing an Apple Valley men’s clothing store on New Year’s Eve, 1955. Zeke Eblen, chief of detectives for the San Bernardino Sheriff’s Office, said the men stole expensive suits, sports jackets, and other clothing, which they took out a side door and loaded into a car.

Like Robert, William’s heroin addiction caused his troubles. In court on the burglary charges, he pleaded guilty and admitted to being an addict. Assistant County Probation Officer Merle Kay, said William was, “resigned to a life of institutional care without hope of rehabilitation or permanent treatment for his addiction.” All his previous attempts to get clean failed. He told Kay he would try to quit the habit if given probation, but confessed he had said the same thing a “thousand times” before.

In July 1967, police arrested William and his wife, Gloria, in Fort Worth, Texas, for forgery after a state computer detected a fake check they had tried to cash.

Working together, Robert, William, Robert’s wife Connie Sue, and an accomplice, George Pauldino, landed in U. S. District Court in Denver for passing stolen savings bonds in banks in Colorado Springs and Boulder.

According to U.S. Assistant Attorney Theodore Halaby, the group cashed some of the $200,000 worth of bonds they stole on December 12, 1971, from the safe of the Denver Public Administrator.

The brothers spent most of the 1970s either in court or prison.

The Schoengarth brothers paid a terrible price for making a dumb mistake as teenagers. Their addictions were a prison without walls. Reading between the lines, I realize they struggled to lead normal lives.

I’ve had many friends grapple with addiction. Several of them died of an O.D. Smart, funny, talented, each one had so much to give. I will never stop missing them.

Robert died in 1988, and William passed in 2005. The brothers may never have realized their potential, but I bet family and friends who saw the best in them mourn them still.

Happy New Year!

Welcome to Deranged L.A. Crimes. Ten years ago, I started this blog to cover historic Los Angeles crimes. I am not surprised that I haven’t even scratched the surface of murder and mayhem in the City of Angels.

I have been absent from the blog for a while, focusing on finishing my book on L.A. crimes during the Prohibition Era for University Press Kentucky. It’s not done yet, but I’m close. No matter, it is time to return to the blog. It is something I love to do.

Focusing my energy on the book, I failed to pay tribute to the inspiration for Deranged L.A. Crimes, Agness “Aggie” Underwood, on December 17, 2022, the 120th anniversary of her birth. If you aren’t familiar with Aggie, I’ve written about her many times in previous posts.

Aggie Underwood

In 2016, I curated a photo exhibit at the Los Angeles Central Library downtown. The exhibit, for the non-profit Photo Friends, featured pictures from cases and events Aggie wrote about over the course of her career. I wrote a companion book, The First with the Latest!: Aggie Underwood, the Los Angeles Herald, and the Sordid Crimes of a City.

Aggie is a dame worth learning about. She is a legendary crime reporter, who worked in the business from 1927 until her retirement from the Los Angeles Herald in 1968. A force to be reckoned with, Aggie worked as a reporter until her promotion to City Editor of the Herald in January 1947, while covering the Black Dahlia case. She was the only Los Angeles reporter, male or female, to get a by-line for her reporting on the ongoing investigation.  

On her retirement, she told a colleague that she feared being forgotten. That won’t happen on my watch. Thanks again, Aggie, for the inspiration. Deranged L.A. Crimes is dedicated to you.

Among the things I’ve learned over the years researching and writing about crime, is that people don’t change. The motives for crime are timeless: greed, lust, anger, betrayal, and jealousy are but a few.

What is different is crime detection. Science has come a long way. Detectives no longer use the Bertillon system to identify criminals—they use DNA. I think part of the reason I’m drawn to historic crime is the challenges overcome by former detectives and scientists. Despite the advancements in science, it is my belief that if it was possible to pluck the best detectives and scientists from the past and set them down in the present, they would still be great. I am amazed at the cases they solved.

Class on the Bertillon system c. 1911

I look forward to this new year, and to the challenges it will bring. I am so glad you are here, and I invite you to reach out if you have questions and/or suggestions.

Best to all of you in the New Year.

Joan

One Hundred Forty Dollars a Day, Conclusion

Imagine being 31-years-old and looking at life in prison. Craig Coley didn’t have to imagine it.

There are few decent options for a man in prison, but dozens of opportunities for him to further screw up his life.  Craig faced a choice. He could involve himself in gangs, drugs and violence, or he could preserve his humanity.

Craig chose the latter.

He maintained his innocence from the moment of his arrest, and he never wavered.  But protestations of innocence are not evidence.  The guilty often shout the loudest about how they have been betrayed by the legal system.  

Craig adjusted to prison, as well as anyone can, but a part of him never gave up hope. Another lifer at Folsom taught him how to make jewelry. He placed his items in the gift shop and sent the proceeds to his mom to hire investigators.

Folsom Prison

As Craig faced his tenth year in prison, a Simi Valley detective, Michael Bender, came across Craig’s case file. After reading it over he said, “. . . a real investigation hadn’t occurred.”

Mike Bender

Soon after reading the file, Mike went to visit Craig in prison.  He talked to Craig, and at the end of it he believed in Craig’s innocence.  He said, “In dealing with a lot of bad guys over the years, there are mannerisms and body language you come to know. He [Craig] didn’t have that.”

Craig had gained a tough advocate who understood the system.  Mike didn’t just appear tough. In 1985 he earned the title of Toughest Cop Alive. He competed against cops from the world over.

The competition is based on athletic prowess. When he won the world competition Mike was 450 points ahead of his nearest competitor. Mike earned the title several times.

To have even the slightest chance of winning Craig’s release, Mike needed every bit of physical and mental strength he possessed. He didn’t know it but he had entered a marathon.

Back at Simi Valley PD, Mike talked to his supervising lieutenant, the same man who was in charge of the original murder investigation. He was not interested in having the Coley case second guessed and possibly overturned.

Unwilling to give up, Mike took Craig’s case to the city manager, city attorney, a local congressman, the attorney general of the State of California, the ACLU and the FBI.

In 1991, Mike was ordered to stop pushing the case or face termination. Mike quit the police department and left Simi Valley. He took with him 16 boxes of files that Craig’s mother had amassed.

Every Saturday Mike and Craig talked on the phone. Mike visited the prison when he could. His daughter or Craig’s mother would often accompany him (Craig’s father passed away in 1989).

Rather than dwell on what seemed impossible, Craig put his energy into running a support program for incarcerated veterans. He was a mentor and a model prisoner.

Craig became a practicing Christian in 2005. He said it helped him “cut out all the nonsense.” He earned degrees in theology, Biblical studies and Biblical counseling.

Mike and his family moved to Northern California in 1991. They stayed there until 2003, when they relocated to Carlsbad near San Diego.

During all those years, Mike never stopped trying to get Craig’s case re-examined.

A turning point in the case came in September 2015 when then Gov. Brown agreed to conduct an investigation. In 2016, Mike met with David Livingstone, the new Simi Valley Police Chief, who began his own investigation with the Ventura County District Attorney’s office.

On November 11, 2017—the 39th anniversary of the crime—investigators went back to the apartment building where the crime occurred. They went to the apartment where the neighbor said she saw Coley’s truck and looked out the window at 5:30 a.m.—as she said she did. The investigators determined that the lighting conditions made it difficult to see any details on vehicles below and that it was impossible to see inside any vehicle.

In many cases where someone is wrongly accused it is DNA evidence that is the key that unlocks the cell door. It was no different for Craig.  DNA evidence which was supposed to have been destroyed, was discovered in storage at the original testing lab. The sperm, blood and skin cells on Rhonda’s sheets and clothing belonged to another man.

No DNA evidence was found to connect Craig to Donnie’s murder, either.

Craig Coley in High School c. 1964 ate 16

On November 22, 2017, Governor Brown granted Coley a pardon based on innocence. The pardon said, “Mr. Coley had no criminal history before being arrested for these crimes and he has been a model inmate for nearly four decades. In prison, he has avoided gangs and violence. Instead, he has dedicated himself to religion. The grace with which Mr. Coley has endured this lengthy and unjust incarceration is extraordinary.”

Craig was released later that day, in time to spend Thanksgiving dinner with Mike and his family.  About his release, Craig said, “You dream about it, you hope for it, but when it happens, it’s a shock. To experience it was something I never thought would feel as good. It was joy, just pure joy. I got all tingly in my stomach and then I was bawling like a baby for a while.”

On November 29, an attorney for Coley asked that Coley’s conviction be vacated. That motion was granted and the judge issued a finding of actual innocence.

In February 2018, Gov. Brown approved a $1.95 million payment. That is $140 for each day he was wrongfully behind bars.

In June 2018, Coley filed a federal civil rights lawsuit seeking damages from the city of Simi and Ventura County. In February 2019, Simi Valley settled with Coley for $21 million.

That Craig fought to win his release is no surprise; but why did Mike spend 28 years of his life fighting for Craig’s freedom?  Mike summed it up, “I always believed in truth, integrity and honor. “I’m glad this story has a happy ending. If I was on my deathbed knowing he was still in prison, I would have had a hard time with that.”

EPILOGUE

Following Craig Coley’s release from prison there was a new suspect in the murders of Rhonda and Donnie Wicht – Joseph James DeAngelo – the Golden State Killer. 

This headline dated June 16, 2020

DNA cleared Craig of the murders, and it also cleared DeAngelo. 

Joseph James DeAngelo, the Golden State Killer

Unless the killer is dead or incarcerated, Rhonda and Donnie’s killer is still out there.

One Hundred Forty Dollars a Day

Ohio native, Edgar Hamilton, a machinist, moved his young family to Pasadena, California in the late 1950s.  The Hamilton’s were among the many thousands of new SoCal residents who chose to leave the harsh Midwestern winters behind them – and who could blame them?

The Southern California landscape was a patchwork of bean fields and orange groves. Summer nights smelled of jasmine. The post-war housing boom made it possible for working-class families to achieve the dream of a ranch style home with a backyard swimming pool.

If you visited Knott’s Berry Farm it was for a chicken dinner, homemade biscuits and boysenberry pie. Disneyland’s Matterhorn Mountain was the park’s main attraction.

Until the late 1960s, the vibe stayed the same in SoCal. It changed everywhere in the late 1960s. Assassinations, protests and Vietnam dominated the news cycle.

Around 1970, the Hamilton family moved out to Simi, in Ventura County. Many working-class people migrated to Simi then. They came largely from East and Central Los Angeles. The population of the Simi Valley swelled – in fact the Route 101 corridor became a full-fledged freeway, but life was still lived at a slower pace than in L.A.

Edgar’s family thrived. His oldest daughter, Rhonda, married young and for a while she lived in Texas.  Her marriage to Donald Wicht failed – but not completely – they had a beautiful son, Donnie.  He was the light of Rhonda’s life.

Following her divorce in 1977, Rhonda and Donnie returned to Simi. Rhonda waitressed to provide for herself and her son, and to pay for cosmetology school. She fixed her gaze on the future.

Rhonda’s younger sister, Rachelle (Shelley), planned to attend a wedding on November 11, 1978. Rhonda promised to do her hair.

On the morning of the wedding, Shelly telephoned Rhonda to let her know she would soon be on her way over. Rhonda didn’t answer.  Shelley tried again. Still no answer.

Now Shelley was starting to worry and her uneasiness turned into action. She got into her car and sped over to the Tierra Apartments at 1861 Byers Street, where Rhonda and Donnie lived.

Shelley found the front door of the apartment locked.  She stood outside. She had an overwhelming sense of dread.  She phoned her husband, and it was he who entered the apartment through a window. Shelley said, “. . . when I got inside, I just stood in the living room.  I couldn’t go any farther.  I went downstairs, called my parents, and the rest was a blur.”

Rhonda was beaten, raped, and a macramé rope was pulled tight around her neck. Four-year-old Donnie was suffocated to death with a pillow. One of his arms dangled over the side of his bed.

Someone phoned the police.  Shelley phoned her parent’s home and got her younger brother, Rick. She may have been incoherent, but he got the message. He said later, “I knew something was wrong, so I jumped into my car, and when I got there, no one stopped me; I just walked right into a crime scene.”

Rick sleepwalked through the rest of his senior year at Royal High School. He said he was just trying to get to his graduation.

Rhonda’s family was devastated. She didn’t have any enemies. She was a kind and caring twenty-four-year-old with a toddler. Who would want them dead?

Police found only one person who may have had it in for Rhonda.  Craig Coley.

The 31-year-old restaurant night manager was Rhonda’s steady boyfriend until recently. Rhonda wanted to end their relationship.

Simi police had questions for Coley, so they went out to find him and bring him in.

NEXT TIME: A suspect is arrested.

It’s Aggie Underwood’s Birthday Month!

Yesterday was the 117th anniversary of Aggie Underwood’s birth.  In her honor the Central Library downtown is hosting a party on Saturday, December 21, 2019 at 2 pm.

I will speak about Aggie and her many accomplishments from her time as a switchboard operator at the Record to her groundbreaking promotion to city editor at the Evening Herald and Express.  And yes, there will be cake. 

Aggie inspired me to create this blog and her Wikipedia page on December 12, 2012.  Aggie loved the newspaper business as much as I love writing for the blog and connecting with all of you.

Aggie hoists a brew.

Deranged L.A. Crime readers are an impressive group. They include current and former law enforcement professionals, crime geeks (like me), and the victims of violent crime.  I have even been contacted by a serial rapist (a despicable scumbag).

Each December I reflect on the year that is ending and make plans for Deranged L.A. Crimes. In 2020, the blog’s reach will extend to encompass all of Southern California, which includes the following counties: Los Angeles, San Diego, Orange, Riverside, San Bernardino, Kern, Ventura, Santa Barbara, San Luis Obispo, and Imperial.

I look forward to new stories, personalities and challenges.

Please join me as we enter the Roaring Twenties.  This time, no Prohibition.

Four women line up along a wall and chug bottles of liquor in the 1920s.
Image by © Kirn Vintage Stock/Corbis

Summer of ’69: September 22, 1969

THE TATE/LA BIANCA MURDERS GO COLD

If the police had any viable leads on the Tate/La Bianca murders they weren’t sharing them with reporters.

On September 10, 1969, the Los Angeles Times ran an ad which offered a reward of $25,000 (over $170k in current USD) for information leading to the arrest and conviction of the person or persons who murdered Sharon Tate, her unborn son, and the other victims at the Cielo Drive home.

Roman Polanski and friends of the Polanski family would pay the money.  The friends included Peter Sellers, Warren Beatty and Yul Brynner. 

JOYCE HABER & THE FRIENDS OF THE POLANSKI’S

On September 22, 1969, Los Angeles Times gossip columnist Joyce Haber had a few tidbits to share about what she described as the “Tate Case Chatter.”

Joyce Haber, gossip columnist

Haber said that Roman Polanski was back in town after a trip to New York where, according to her, he was “. . . kicking it up in and from his home base, a suite at Manhattan’s Essex House on Central Park South.” 

She continued, “The kicks included trips to Oh, Calcutta!, off-Broadway’s groovy, naked revue, and to such jivy joints as Elaine’s, a haunt for the literary-cum-anything set.”

Elaine’s restaurant on the Upper East Side of New York City, near the corner of 2nd Avenue and East 88th Street, was a hangout for everyone from Norman Mailer to Mia Farrow and Woody Allen.  Elaine’s closed in 2011, following the death of the proprietress, Elaine Kaufman. In an interview, Allen said that he was “crushed” and that “despite the unrelenting bad food I went there every night for decades.”

Haber’s tone regarding Polanski’s unique manner of  grieving the loss of his family was disapproving. Understanding the intimate mechanics of how different individuals cope with loss is for someone with more knowledge on the topic that I have; but I find Polanski’s choice of venues for grieving very odd. Would most people faced with such a traumatic loss socialized in the way Polanski did?  I wonder.

GOSSIP KILLS

When reading Haber’s column,  you must consider the source. It was a gossip column – she inherited the gig from Hedda Hopper.  Haber had a reputation for snarky comments. In fact, there are people who blame her indirectly for Jean Seberg’s suicide in 1979.

Seberg ,an internationally known and admired actress, was a staunch supporter of civil rights and often gave money to the NAACP, Native American groups, and two gifts to the Black Panther Party.

JEAN SEBERG

During the late 1960s the FBI ran a Counterintelligence Program (COINTELPRO ) and targeted individuals and groups they identified as subversive.  Their tactics were abhorrent. Outright lies used to destroy people for their politics.

On May 19, 1970, Haber’s column was used to smear Jean Seberg. The actress, referred to as Miss A in the column, was Jean Seberg. Anyone familiar with Hollywood at the time would have recognized the characterization.  NEWSWEEK also printed the rumor.

The rumor was that the child Seberg carried wasn’t her husband’s, Romain Gary, but Raymond Hewitt’s (a member of the Black Panthers). 

Devastated by the rumor, Seberg went into premature labor and lost her baby daughter. At the funeral Seberg laid the baby in an open casket so that reporters could see for themselves that the infant was white.

Seberg was blacklisted and her career suffered.  So did her mental health. She was depressed for years. The  FBI continued their surveillance and harassment, which did nothing to ease her stress.

On September 8, 1979, nine days after she disappeared from her Paris apartment in the 16th arrondissement,  her body was found wrapped in a blanket in the back seat of her Renault.  Police found barbiturate’s and a note which said that she could no longer live with her nerves.

Seberg is interred in the Cimetière du Montparnasse in Paris.

MANSON FAMILY UPDATE – FALL, 1969

BARKER RANCH

Charles Manson relocated to Barker Ranch in Death Valley. Charlie and family members Atkins, Krenwinkel, and Watson must have felt invincible. They got away with murder.

Death of a Latin Lover, Conclusion

From the moment they entered the case, LAPD kept mum about the weapon used to batter Ramon Novarro to death.  However, at trial the prosecution revealed the sad fact that Ramon was beaten with a cane, a memento from one of his films.  It couldn’t have been more personal, nor more poignant.

Deputy District Attorney James Ideman said he intended to show that Paul and Thomas Ferguson tortured Ramon to death while trying to find out where he hid his money. Ideman described how the 69-year-old former film heartthrob was beaten and then taken into a shower and revived so he could be questioned further.

The seven man, five woman jury listened to Ideman’s description of Ramon’s violent end at the hands of the young hustlers who accepted his hospitality, and then left him on his bed with his hands tied behind him, to drown in his own blood.

Photograph caption dated July 28, 1969 reads, “Paul Robert Ferguson confers with attorneys at opening of murder trial. Richard Walton, left, and Dorothy Montoya represented accused at beginning of jury selection.” [Photo & caption courtesy LAPL]

Forever in need of money, Paul telephoned Ramon on the day of the murder and introduced himself as a relative of Ramon’s acquaintance, Larry (Paul’s brother-in-law).  Paul arranged to see Ramon that evening. He arrived with his brother Thomas and following dinner and drinks they demanded money.  Ramon was wealthy, but never kept large sums at home, in fact, that night he had $45 in his wallet.

The prosecution’s case hinged on three points: (1) fingerprints, (2) the fact that it was impossible for Ramon to have written the name “Larry” with his hands tied and (3) Thomas’ telephone call to his girlfriend in Chicago from Ramon’s house.

As far as anyone could tell, the brothers intended to blame each other for Ramon’s murder.  The main points in their strategy were: (1) blame the other brother and (2) mental illness.

Lawyer Cletus Hanifin, right, with murder suspects Tom (left) and Paul Ferguson. Photograph dated September 25, 1969. [Photo & caption courtesy LAPL]

Victor Nichols, a real estate investor and friend of Paul’s, testified that Paul and Thomas came to his Hollywood apartment after midnight on October 31.  They weren’t trick-or-treating, they were in trouble. According to Victor, Paul said: “Vic, I’d like to see you . . . we are in some trouble. Tom hit Ramon . . . Ramon is dead.”

Victor gave Paul a cup of coffee to sober him up as Tom slept on the sofa.  Victor’s guests made him nervous. He didn’t want to be involved in a murder.  After Paul finished his coffee, Victor suggested he awaken Tom and leave.  When Victor asked, “How could you do such a thing?”  Thomas replied: “I hit him several times very hard and he is dead.”

Victor gave them $8 for cab fare and sent them on their way.

Paul took the stand and gave his version of the night of the murder.  He said he went into Ramon’s bedroom and found him lying on the floor. He was covered in blood and his hands were tied behind him.  “I touched him on the shoulder.  He felt starchy . . . tight, like paper . . . “, said Paul.

From his chair at the defense table, Thomas starred daggers at his brother and shook his head as if he couldn’t believe the lies coming out of Paul’s mouth.

Paul claimed he wanted to phone the police, but Thomas vetoed the plan and suggested they stage a robbery. His attorney asked Paul why he would go along with Thomas’ plan, he answered, “Stupidness.”

Paul’s attorney asserted his client had no reason to kill Ramon because he thought the actor was a “nice guy”, and because Ramon said he might become a “superstar”.  Paul said, “He (Novarro) said I could be a young Burt Lancaster or another Clint Eastwood.”

By the time Ramon met the  Fergusons, Paul already had a minor career in the seedier side of show business.  He was a nude model, and may have appeared in porno films.  Ramon knew nothing about Paul’s career, but perhaps he saw a reflection of himself in the good looking younger man.

Paul Ferguson

The trial continued with the brothers blaming each other for the murder. Paul insisted he slept during the crime because he downed a fifth of vodka, some beer and tequila. Until Thomas awakened him and said, “This guy is dead” he was oblivious to Ramon’s screams and cries for help.  How did Paul take the news of Ramon’s death? He said he was “just plain sad.”  Thomas’ attorney asked Paul, “Why were you sad if you didn’t do it?”

Ramon in the tub.

“I was just sad because Ramon was dead . . . I had just had two weeks of bad luck and now I was thrown into this thing . . . I wanted to know why everything was happening,” Paul responded.

What was the bad luck plaguing Paul? His job sucked and his wife left him.  Small problems compared to a man’s life. Paul admitted under oath that he considered suicide rather than face trial, but he rejected the idea.  Asked why, Paul said, “I want to live.”

Neither Paul nor Thomas would admit to the murder, each blamed the other. There was some evidence to suggest Thomas was pressured by Paul and his mother to take the blame and he gave it a half-hearted try. As a juvenile he could not be sentenced to death.

On Wednesday, September 17, 1969, Paul and Thomas Ferguson faced the jury.  If the plan was to save Paul from the gas chamber, it worked. Paul and Thomas received life sentences for first degree murder.

Prison agreed with Paul. Maybe it provided the structured environment he lacked on the outside. He was on the prison’s radio station and found his voice through creative writing.  In 1975, he won a P.E.N. award for a short story, “Dream No Dreams.”

Thomas’ incarceration did not go well.  He was constantly in trouble and spent much of his time in solitary for attempted escapes and other infractions of prison rules.  It is easy to get drugs in prison, and Thomas got strung out on coke and glue.

Paul and Thomas never saw or spoke to each other again after they were released in 1976.

Parole wasn’t the start of a new life for either brother. Thomas was busted for rape in 1987. He spent four years in prison.  When he did not register as a sex offender he was busted again. On March 6, 2005, Thomas went to a Motel 6 and cut his throat. He didn’t leave a note.

By 2012, Paul was once again in prison. This time it was for rape. Unless he wins an appeal, he can look forward to 60 years in a Missouri prison.