Manson in His Own Words

by Nuel Emmons

  They waited until they were satisfied the shots had not alerted anyone, then went on to the house, a ranch-style dwelling with a large lawn and a swimming pool. The girls stood at a rear door while Tex cut through a screen and entered the home through a window. Opening the door, he asked Sadie and Katie to come with him, telling Linda to remain outside to warn them if she saw or heard anyone approaching.

  As they quietly entered the living room, they saw the first of the four individuals who were in the house. A man [Voytek Frykowski] had fallen asleep on the couch with the lights on. Motioning for the girls to circle from behind, Tex approached the sleeping man and stuck the gun in the sleeper’s face, saying, “Wake up!” The man opened his eyes to see the barrel of a pistol less than six inches away. Startled, he tried to get up, but Tex put the gun against the man’s forehead and told him to stay where he was. Sadie excitedly described the first encounter, “Oh, Charlie, you should have seen it. Here’s Tex standing over the man with a gun in one hand and a knife in the other, and with the coil of rope over his shoulder; he reminded me of a Mexican bandoliero. And when the man asked what he was doing there, who he was and what he wanted, Tex told him, ‘I’m the Devil and I want your money.’ Tex really looked like the Devil.” Tex then sent Sadie to look for something to tie the man up, because he had other plans for the rope he was carrying. She brought back a towel and she and Katie used it to tie the man’s hands behind his back.

  Sadie then went through the house, checking for other occupants. Going down a hall she passed an open bedroom door, and inside, lying in bed reading a book, was a young lady [Abigail Folger]. “It was the funniest thing,” described Sadie, “it was like the lady almost expected me to be there. She glanced at me and said, ’hi/so I waved at her and said ‘hi’ back. Then I went on past her room until I came to another door. Looking in I saw a pregnant lady lying on her bed [Sharon Tate]. She was beautiful Charlie, you’d have loved her. A guy [Jay Sebring] was sitting on the edge of the bed holding her hand and talking to her. Neither one even looked up. I went back and told Tex about the other three people.”

  Tex told Sadie to bring the other three into the living room. Sadie was very proud that, armed only with a knife, she had intimidated the three so convincingly. Once they were all in the living room, Tex started giving orders and demanding money. He gave the rope to the two girls and told them to tie it around the prisoners’ necks. The untied man (Sebring) made a lunge at Tex, and Tex pulled the trigger of the gun. Sebring fell to the floor wounded, looking up at Tex with an expression of fear and disbelief. Tex planted a foot in his face, injuring himself in the process.

  Until this point things had been going smoothly for the invaders, but with the shot and the first injury, fear and hysteria prompted the victims to struggle for their lives. But those kids had come to kill and they were bent on doing so in a shocking, sensational manner. The desperate struggles of their victims only intensified their acts of violence.

  Sebring still lay on the floor. Tate and Folger screamed, but fell silent after being threatened with knives by the girls. A rope was then placed around the necks of the two women and Sebring. The prisoners wanted to know the intentions of the invaders, and Tex informed them they had to die to save his brother. Hysterically, the women pleaded for their lives. Sadie went over to add more bonds to the already-tied Frykowski. As she began her task, Tex said, “Kill him!” Sadie raised her arm to plunge with her knife, but Frykowski managed to free his hands and grabbed Sadie by the hair. They struggled, and Sadie stabbed away while Frykowski pulled her hair and tried to ward off the thrusts of the knife, finally causing her to drop it somewhere near the couch. Severely wounded, Frykowski broke loose and headed toward the yard. Tex left Katie holding the rope attached to Sebring, Folger and Tate, and ran to catch the fleeing man. Frykowski, now in the yard, struggled and fought desperately as Tex administered the final knife wounds.

  Tex’s final thrusts were suddenly interrupted by a frantic shout from Katie. While Tex and Sadie had been focusing their attention on Frykowski, Folger had freed herself from the noose and was making an effort to escape. Katie caught her, but was losing the battle until Tex got there. He clubbed Folger with the pistol and then stabbed her until he thought she was dead. Between his dash from Frykowski to Katie, Tex saw Sebring moving, and paused long enough to make several knife thrusts into Sebring’s body. Once Folger was down and apparently dead, Tex returned to finish the job on Frykowski.

  Tate, meanwhile, frozen in fear, had not made an attempt to flee until now. The three kids were still outside with Frykowski and she made a run for it in the opposite direction. Katie saw her and alerted Sadie, and the two girls easily caught Sharon and brought her back into the living room. Sharon, still unharmed, now had the full attention of all three killers. Ignoring her pleas for her life and the life of her unborn child, Sadie held her while Tex stabbed. But at some point, Sadie must have borrowed someone’s knife, because she said she also had stabbed Sharon.

  The kids then went about adding their witchy “get Bobby out of jail” decoration to the premises. Using Sharon’s blood. Sadie wrote the word “PIG” inside the house. They abandoned the idea of stringing the victims from the rafters, explaining, “Everything was too messy and we were too tired.” Linda had left the property and had the motor running by the time the others reached the car. On the drive back to the ranch, they discarded their clothing and weapons at various points along the way by throwing them over embankments from the moving car.

  A normal person would find the details of the night’s events shocking and horrifying, but I had long ago stopped measuring myself by society’s standards. The story I was hearing from Tex and Sadie did not shock me. I did not feel pity or compassion for the victims. My only concern was whether it resembled the Hinman killing. Would the police now have reason to believe that Bobby was not the slayer of Hinman? And were the kids, loaded with drugs, clever enough to avoid leaving prints or evidence of their identities? Knowing Sadie and Tex, and their flair for dramatic exaggeration, I doubted the slayings went down as they had described. Most importantly, did they leave a trail that would lead to the ranch? Concern for clues compelled me to get in the Ford and head for Bel Air. I took another member of our circle with me.

  Returning to the scene of any crime is risky business, so instead of turning up Cielo Drive, we drove past and looked up the hill to see if there was any activity that might indicate the police had arrived. Everything was quiet. Still not wanting to be too obvious, we parked the car a short distance away and walked to the premises. We entered the grounds by climbing over the fence, as the kids had done. As Sadie and Tex had said, the first victim’s car was off the driveway a short distance from the gate. Going by Tex’s description of how he had approached the car and how he had pushed it, I carefully wiped the car clean of possible finger prints without disturbing the body of the boy who lay dead inside.

  Approaching a house where you know there are dead bodies has a spine-chilling effect, and I think if I had been alone, I might have forgotten about continuing any farther. My partner probably felt the same way, but neither of us spoke and we did go on to see the whole gory mess. Tex and Sadie’s description had been accurate. What I was seeing was not a scene from a movie or some horrible acid fantasy, but real people who would never see the morning’s sun. I’d had thoughts of creating a scene more in keeping with a black-against-white retaliation, but in looking around, I lost the heart to carry out my plans. The two of us took towels and wiped every place a fingerprint could have been left. I then placed the towel I was using over the head of the man inside the room. My partner had an old pair of eyeglasses which we often used as a magnifying glass or as a device to start a fire when matches weren’t available. We carefully wiped the glasses free of prints and dropped them on the floor, so that, when discovered, they would be a misleading clue for the police. Within an hour and twenty minutes after leaving Spahn, we were back. The sun was already bringing the light of d
ay as I crawled in bed with Stephanie.

  I slept until well past noon and by the time I walked out of the trailer, the deaths had been discovered and were the major topic of all news broadcasts. Sadie, Linda and Katie had been waiting for me to appear and immediately gave me a word-for-word update on what was being reported on the radio and TV. It was through the broadcasts that we first learned the names of the victims.

  The three girls—Tex slept most of the day and wasn’t around—spent their day with each other, doing a lot of whispering and getting close to a radio or a television when it was time for a newscast. They seemed to have taken on an air of superiority over the rest of those at the ranch. As for myself, I was surprised at how prestigious three of the victims were. Tate had been extremely popular in the celebrity world. Folger, heiress to the Folger coffee fortune, had been rich beyond the average person’s dreams. Sebring had been a hair stylist of international fame.

  In learning of the popularity and wealth of the victims, I suddenly felt cheated that the kids had come away from the scene with less than a hundred dollars in cash. Later newscasts reported that a variety of drugs was found by the police and I felt added disappointment in myself and the kids for not searching the place for valuables and narcotics. Whatever else went on in my mind regarding the previous night, remorse or compassion did not affect me. I did, in days to come, have my private laughs at the theories and speculations of the police and reporters as they announced possible motives for the slayings, but I was disappointed that no connection was made between the recent murders and Hinman’s death. While rumors were still flying and the police still scratching their heads, I had visions of another night that would add to the confusion and make the affairs of that night look like more than copy-cat murders. We’d make it appear as though a full-scale war was being waged against the whites.

  Leslie Van Houten was a girl Bobby had been traveling with for several months. She was very concerned about Bobby’s being in jail and was willing to do anything to help get him out. After dinner that evening, she and six others—Tex, Sadie, Linda, Katie, Clem and myself—stuffed ourselves into Swartz’s old Ford and went searching for victims, random victims, so many of them that the deaths would shock not only the area but the whole world.

  All of us had taken mild hits of acid; not enough to space us so far out that we would leap off buildings or jump in front of speeding cars, but enough to make us feel invincible, enough to make us feel the world was totally ours and that there was no right, no wrong. We felt free of guilt. During our search for the right place to continue spreading fear and panic, we were not a bunch of uptight kids, but a singing, laughing group who might have been on their way to a party.

  We did a lot of driving that night. From the ranch, we toured San Fernando Valley, Santa Monica, West L.A., Hollywood, Pasadena and everywhere in between. Several stops were made to check out houses and occupants, with me doing the checking. We stuck mostly to homes that indicated wealth. The first couple of homes I cased looked middle class, so I told the kids to drive on. At one point I had them stop in front of a church. As I started out of the car, Linda said in a surprised voice, “We aren’t going to kill a priest are we?” “No, we aren’t, but / am,” I responded. “Besides, what’s so fucking different about a priest? They eat, shit and tell lies just like you and me.” Actually, I had just stopped the car because I had to take a piss. But to keep her thinking for a minute or two, I walked to the side door of the church, took a leak out of sight of the car and stood there for a couple of minutes. When I returned to the car, I told the kids the priest had lucked out, no one answered the bell.

  After over two hours of driving with nothing coming down, I thought of an area out near Griffith Park. In the past we had partied at a guy’s pad in that neighborhood. It was a pretty ritzy area with some pretty big homes. A couple of the kids recognized the house, and said again, “We aren’t, are we?” “No,” I said, “I’m thinking about the house across the street. Wait here, I’ll be right back.” [The house across the street was the home of Leno and Rosemary LaBianca at 3301 Waverly Drive.—Nuel Emmons]

  I walked up a long driveway and looked in a window. The only person I could see was a heavy-set guy about forty-five years old who had fallen asleep while reading a newspaper. Satisfied that this was where the night’s work would start, I went back to the car and got Tex. The two of us, me with a gun and Tex with a knife, went to the back door. It was open. A big dog met us as we entered, but instead of barking or growling he licked my hand. We went into the living room. To wake the sleeper up, I nudged him with the gun. His eyes opened to see a pistol pointed at his face. With a startled look and an equally startled voice, he asked, “Who—who are you? What are you doing here? What do you want?” “Just relax, pal,” I said. “We’re not going to hurt you, just be cool. Don’t be afraid.” He was honest in his reply: “That’s easy enough for you to say, but how can I help but be afraid when you’ve got a gun pointed at me?” “It’s all right man, nothin’s going to happen to you, all we want is your money. Is there anyone else in the house?” “Yes, my wife’s in the bedroom, but don’t bother her. I’ll give you all I have,” he answered.

  I handed Tex a leather thong and had him tie the fellow’s hands behind his back while I went into the bedroom after his wife. Like her husband, she was asleep. I pulled the covers off of her and touched her shoulder, saying, “Wake up, lady, you got company.” Her sleepy eyes focused on me. Then, with a start, she sat up and grabbed for the covers in an effort to hide her body. She had a nightgown on, but to assist her in her modesty, I handed her a dress that was folded over the back of a chair. She quickly pulled it over her nightgown, and said, “What are you doing here? What do you want?” She was a pretty lady, close to forty, and very composed, considering a stranger with a gun pointed at her was in her bedroom. “Don’t be alarmed, lady, no one’s going to get hurt,” I said. “We’re just after some money.” With that I moved her into the living room. “Okay, where’s your money?” I asked them both. “In my wallet in the bedroom,” her husband answered, “and some more in my wife’s purse.” I sent Tex to get the wallets. They contained less than a hundred dollars. “Is that it?” I asked. “Yes, that’s all we have here, but if you’ll take me to my store, there’s more. All you want.”

  I thought about leaving Tex and some of the girls to guard the wife while the guy took me to his store. Hell, I thought, if he owns a store and has offered me anything I want, maybe there were big bucks there. But then I thought, he’s just buying time. Maybe there was a store and maybe there wasn’t. He might just be looking for a way to trap us. No, what I had in hand would have to do.

  When we left the ranch, I had been geared to handle some of the dirty work. The kids had done their thing last night, and I was going to perform for them tonight. But these two people were not panicking or doing anything that might set off a surge of temper that would make me strike out at them. Somehow I couldn’t make that first move. Thinking that if just the husband and I were head-on I could initiate an attack, I told Tex to take the lady back to her bedroom. I purposely turned my back on the guy to watch Tex and the lady go out of the room, thinking he would make a lunge at me and in defense I could do what had to be done. He didn’t, and when Tex came back, I told him, “Guard them, I’ll send the girls back.”

  I walked to the car and told Katie and Leslie to go give Tex a hand. “Do it good! Make sure it’s done so the pigs will put it together with Hinman and that pad last night. We’re going to find another house. When you finish up, hitch back to the ranch and we’ll see you there.”

  I got in the car with Sadie, Clem and Linda, saying, “Okay, it’s our turn. Who’s got someone on their shit list?” Linda spoke up. “There’s this dude over in Venice, thinks he’s the world’s greatest stud. We made it together once and the asshole couldn’t even bring me.” We headed toward Venice. On the way, thinking we were passing through a black neighborhood, I had Linda take the lady’s walle
t into the john of a service station and leave it there. That way the blacks would get the heat for what was going to happen on Waverly Drive.

  When we got to Venice and the apartment house Linda directed us to, I had come off the acid and wasn’t feeling all that confident we were invincible. When we stopped, I handed the gun to Clem, saying, “You’re the stud, help these girls do their thing. See you when you’re finished.” I sat in the car for a few minutes trying to picture what had happened on Waverly Drive and imagining what was going on in the apartment here in Venice. I realized I was just sitting there waiting for the police to come, and if they showed up, I was on my way back to the joint. I started the car, drove to Santa Monica, stopped for some breakfast, then went back to the ranch to wait.

  I started worrying about what the kids might bring down on themselves and what kind of attention they might bring to the ranch. I didn’t want to be a sitting duck, so instead of hanging out around the buildings, I grabbed a sleeping bag and headed for a spot where it would take some searching to find me. Just in case. Sometime in the afternoon, I went back to the buildings and was relieved to see some of the kids from each group. Sadie was off sleeping somewhere, but Clem and Linda let me know what had happened in Venice. Nothing! The three of them had gone to the apartment Linda identified and knocked on the door. When no one answered, they gave up the night’s effort and hitchhiked back to the ranch. Several months later, Linda spread the story she had decided she didn’t want to see the guy dead, and had purposely taken Clem and Sadie to a different apartment.