Hollywood & Crime - Young Charlie | The Ketchup Bottle Bandits | 1

Episode Date: August 29, 2024

On the morning of August 9, 1969, the bodies of actress Sharon Tate and four other people were discovered at the sprawling Benedict Canyon home of Miss Tate and her husband, film director Roman Polanski. The victims had all been brutally murdered. The next day, the bodies of Leno and Rosemary LaBianca were discovered at their home in Los Feliz. They had been murdered in a similar, gruesome fashion.In 1939, young Charlie Manson’s mother Kathleen is arrested in Charleston, West Virginia and jailed for robbery. After her release, she is unable to control her son and has him sent to the Gibault School for Boys in Indiana. Charlie runs away after only ten months. Then, after being arrested for burglary, he is given a second chance when a kindly judge sends him to the famous Boys Town in Omaha, Nebraska. After just four days, he escapes from there as well.See Privacy Policy at https://art19.com/privacy and California Privacy Notice at https://art19.com/privacy#do-not-sell-my-info.

You're listening to the first episode of Young Charlie. To continue the journey, you can binge episodes two through six exclusively with Wondery Plus. Start your free trial today in the Wondery app, Apple Podcasts, or Spotify. Young Charlie from Hollywood and Crime contains depictions of violence and is not suitable for everyone. Please be advised. At a little after 8 a.m. on the morning of August 9, 1969, housekeeper Winifred Chapman approached the grounds of 10,050 Cielo Drive. As she got to the gate, she noticed a loose wire dangling above the control box.

Already late, thanks to L.A.'s poor bus system, she was now concerned that the electricity might be out. But when she pressed the button, the gate swung open as it did every morning. Relieved, she entered the property. Only a few yards up from the gate, she noticed a white Rambler at an oblique angle in the driveway. Several other vehicles were parked closer to the garage. Since overnight visitors were a common occurrence at the sprawling estate,

she thought nothing of it. Entering the house through the service porch, Mrs. Chapman picked up the kitchen phone and noticed it was dead. Wondering if it could be due to the downed wire, she replaced the receiver. She headed for the living room, but was blocked by two large blue steamer trunks that hadn't been there when she'd left work the day before. They looked as if they'd been knocked when she'd left work the day before. They looked as if they'd been knocked over, one leaning against the other. Then she noticed the blood smeared across the trunks, on the floor nearby, on two towels lying in the living room entryway. For a moment, she stood there, uncomprehending. Only now did she realize she hadn't heard a sound since

entering the house. Forcing herself to move, she stepped toward the living room. Everywhere she looked, there was more blood. On the floor, the rugs, the furniture. The front door was half open and two red pools spread across the porch. Beyond, she could see a body sprawled on the front lawn. Screaming, she ran from the house and down the driveway. This time she noticed the body of a young man lying sideways across the front seat of the Rambler. She managed to get the gate open and fled to a neighboring house. We have five dead bodies. There are three male bodies and two female bodies. Sharon Tate and four other persons were murdered.

Described by one investigator as reminiscent of a weird religious rite. Five persons, including actress Sharon Tate, were found dead at the home of Ms. Tate when he said, In all my years, I have never seen anything like this before. As the sun rose higher on another sweltering day, Los Angeles residents would begin to learn about the events that had taken place hours earlier and struggle to find ways to understand them. had taken place hours earlier and struggled to find ways to understand them. In the early morning of August 9th, 1969, five people had been savagely murdered in the tony reaches of the Hollywood Hills. They had been shot and stabbed and bludgeoned. Nooses had been hung around their necks.

The owner of the house had pled for the life of her unborn child as she was stabbed repeatedly in the chest. This would not be a night for mercy. What the victims would never know was that the author of their gruesome deaths had not been present. He had been in the wilds outside Los Angeles planning the next acts in a drama begun many years ago and a thousand miles away. In the ensuing days, the killings would seem important, worthy of a desert prophet. The rich would cower in their mansions, while the poor went on with their lives unworried. Former peace activists would empty the racks of local gun stores. Rival police teams would overlook clues to advance comfortable theories.

It was as if the country were looking into a funhouse mirror reflection of biblical prophecy. Lions would not lie down with lambs, but be slaughtered by them. Only 19 days earlier, Americans had reveled in humankind's great achievement in setting foot on the moon. Now they were forced to look into the darkest recesses of our animal nature. Days later, the love generation would dance in the mud of Woodstock while authorities attempted to come to grips with the Cielo Drive murders. Untroubled by the police, the killers would retreat to their Death Valley abode, awaiting the Armageddon they hoped to initiate.

Their messiah would lead them in search of the bottomless pit, where, he had told them, they would hide out for a hundred years before re-emerging to rule the world. After all, the Beatles had predicted it. They say Hollywood is where dreams are made, After all, the Beatles had predicted it. Hollywood and Crime, The Cotton Club Murder on the Wondery app or wherever you get your podcasts. Each morning it's a new opportunity, a chance to start fresh. Up First from NPR makes each morning an opportunity to learn and to understand.

Choose to join the world every morning with Up First, a podcast that hands you everything going on across the globe and down the street, all in 15 minutes or less. Start your day informed and anew with Up First by subscribing wherever you get your podcasts. Start your day informed and anew with Up First by subscribing wherever you get your podcasts. From Wondery, I'm Tracy Patton with Stephen Lang.

Today, Hollywood and Crime presents Young Charlie. Our first episode, The Ketchup Bottle Bandits. We invite you to come with us on a unique journey into the mind of the most infamous murderer ever to stalk Hollywood. Young Charlie follows Charles Manson's unlikely path from his troubled childhood in rural West Virginia to the night he sent his followers out to slaughter five people at the home of film director Roman Polanski and actress Sharon Tate. Here's my co-host, Stephen Lang. August 1st, 1939. A gray convertible Packard drives along a dark country road just outside Charleston, West Virginia.

Behind the wheel is Frank Martin, who for at least part of the evening considered himself a lucky man. In the passenger seat beside him is Kathleen Maddox, a young woman he met only an hour ago at the Blue Moon Beer Parlor. She might not be destined for Hollywood, but she's outgoing and friendly

and seems like the kind of girl willing to let the night take them where it may. Frank had flashed a wad of bills, and she was all eyes, talking big about getting a hotel room for the night. But they were barely in his car when she'd changed her mind, and the hotel room turned into a trip to a nearby dance hall. Things didn't look much better when she asked him to pick up her brother Luther en route. But Frank was easygoing about it.

Who knew how the evening might turn out? They're barely out of town, barreling down an unlit road when Luther, sitting in the back, says to pull over. Frank's not doing any such thing. If this guy needs to use the can, he can damn well wait till they get to the dance hall. Next thing Frank knows, something hard is pressed between his shoulder blades. An affable Luther turns dead serious. I mean it, he growls, pressing his point with another poke in Frank's back. Damn, thinks Frank as he pulls the Packard off the road.

This evening has definitely taken a turn for the worse. Kathleen watches as the two men get out of the car. It's then that Frank notices the ketchup bottle in Luther's hand. If that doesn't take the prize, being stuck up by a ketchup bottle. Frank has had about enough of these two. He turns back to the car when, crack, this joker pastes him one alongside the head with the bottle,

knocking him to the ground. Frank is seeing stars and coughing road dust, feeling hands reaching for his wallet. When he can see straight again, what he sees is the two of them, brother and sister, driving off into the night in his gray Packard coupe. To make it worse, he's pretty sure he can hear them laughing.

LAPD officer Jerry Joe DeRosa was first to arrive at the Asin residence, next door to 10,050 Cielo Drive in the Hollywood Hills. Homeowner Ray Asin had called the police after opening his door to a hysterical Winifred Chapman. The housekeeper had been shouting incoherently about blood and bodies everywhere. DeRosa couldn't get much more than that out of her. He learned from Mr. Asin that the neighboring property had been rented to film director Roman Polanski and his wife, an actress named Sharon Tate. Two friends, Abigail Folger and Wojtek Frykowski,

had been staying there while the couple was in Europe, though Mrs. Polanski had recently returned. Mrs. Chapman managed to get out the name of hairstylist Jay Sebring, whose black Porsche she'd seen parked near the garage. DeRosa returned to his squad car for his rifle, then approached the Polanski home with Mrs. Chapman. She remained outside the gate as the officer stepped onto the grounds. Immediately, he saw the body of a young man slumped sideways across the front seat of the Rambler, his clothes drenched in blood. There was no need to check for a pulse. Moments later, LAPD officer William

Wisenhunt arrived, grabbing his shotgun. He joined DeRosa in the driveway as a third LAPD patrol car pulled up and officer Robert Burbridge got out. The three officers approached the main house. About 20 feet from the front door, a man lay on his side in the grass. Colorfully attired in bell bottoms and purple shirt, he appeared to have dozens of stab wounds. His face was battered beyond recognition. About 25 feet away, a young woman lay on her back, her arms splayed outwards. She was barefoot, dressed in what had been a white nightgown, now red from the multiple stab wounds to her torso. DeRosa remained on the lawn, watching the front door for possible perpetrators,

while Wisenhunt and Burbridge went around the side of the house. Wisenhunt noticed a window screen had been slid along the bottom, perhaps by the assailants. Farther on, they found an open window and looked inside. The two officers climbed inside the house. It doesn't take long to solve the ketchup bottle caper. When Frank Martin regains his wits, he makes his way back into Charleston and calls the police.

Turns out Kathleen is a regular at the beer parlor, and witnesses recall seeing her there earlier that evening with Frank. Lives in North Charleston, if memory serves. Frank's relieved when the cops find his Packard parked on a dark street without so much as a scratch. That reduces the crime duo's haul to a grand total of the $27 that was in his wallet. Not exactly Bonnie and Clyde. Their high-rolling days are numbered, though, to exactly zero. With a little information from North Charleston's postmaster, the cops are at the door of Glenna

and Bill Thomas, Kathleen's sister and brother-in-law, first thing in the morning. Frank points her out and watches as they-law, first thing in the morning. Frank points her out and watches as they cuff her. Then he notices the kid. Little runt of a thing, maybe four or five. All big eyes and matted hair. A startled mouse. Taking it all in as Kathleen is manhandled out the door and down the walk to the waiting police car. Frank wonders if maybe that's her kid. Probably, he figures, from the way he's looking at her. Frank feels the first touch of sympathy since getting cracked over the head only a few hours ago. Seeing the other two policemen inside the house,

Officer DeRosa stepped onto the porch. It was only then that he noticed the words scribbled on the lower half of the front door. Pig. It appeared to be written in blood. DeRosa entered the house and headed toward the living room. On the floor near the steamer trunks was a pair of horn-rimmed glasses. When Burbridge came into the room, he spotted two pieces of a broken gun grip on the carpet. Further inside, a large American flag was draped over the back of a long sofa. On the other side of the sofa, a young woman lay, obviously pregnant, wearing a bra and bikini panties. She was on her side, in fetal position,

her body covered in blood. A white nylon rope was looped around her neck and draped over a rafter. The other end was around the neck of yet another victim, his face obscured by a blood-soaked towel. After checking the house for remaining victims or possible suspects, the officers stepped outside. From somewhere, they heard a dog barking, then a male voice telling the animal to be quiet.

They cautiously approached the guest house behind the residence, and DeRosa peeked through the window. Inside, a young man lay on the couch, wearing pants and no shirt. The officers kicked in the door, weapons raised, shouting at the youth to freeze. The dog charged and bit at the shotgun, but the kid managed to call him off. The cops hustled the young man out of the guest house onto the lawn and cuffed him. They were about to arrest their first suspect.

suspect. Do you have any kind of an idea who might have done it? Do you have any kind of APBs out? Any suspects at all? The only person we have at this time is Mr. Gerritsen whom we are questioning in as much as he was here on the premises during the evening. Is there anything scrawled on the front door of that house in blood? I can't answer that question. Where were the bodies found? Is there anything scrawled on the front door of that house in blood? I can't answer that question.

Where were the bodies found? Two of the bodies were found inside the house, one in the vehicle and two on the front lawn. Were there any hangings? Not that we can determine at this time. Was there any evidence of drugs there anywhere? Not that I saw any drugs at all. Were the bodies badly mutilated?

This I'd rather not discuss. When Luther Maddox is hauled in, he does what he can to protect his sister, claims she knew nothing about his plans that night for Mr. Martin. No one's listening, though, since Kathleen's already confessed. The Charleston Daily Mail has fun with it,

calling the crime the ketchup bottle holdup. Seven weeks later, things aren't so funny when brother and sister are in court before Judge D. Jackson. He doesn't take long to find them guilty. Luther might as well have had a real gun since he gets ten years for armed robbery. Kathleen gets five for unarmed robbery. They are removed from the court in chains, headed for hard time at a hard facility, the West Virginia State Prison

in Moundsville. It all but breaks Kathleen's mother, Nancy. A life spent doing her best to serve the Lord has amounted to this. Her son and daughter know better than if she never entered church once. And then there's the matter of her grandson, Kathleen's boy from some character she barely knew who left her in the lurch the minute she began to show. He's five now, and the man Kathleen married to give him a name is long gone too.

Nancy would like to care for the boy, maybe somehow make right with him what she got wrong with her own kids. But Ashland is 200 miles from Moundsville, and if there's anything she knows, it's the boy needs to be near his mother, whatever her shortcomings. It was just heartbreaking watching him hug on to her as she was loaded into that prison wagon and carted off. Nancy's other daughter, Glenna, did herself better,

what with husband Bill working steady at the B&O Railroad. More to the point, over in McMechen, they're only five miles from the prison. Yes, thinks Nancy, there's nothing else to do. Little Charlie will have to go live with his aunt and uncle. On Sunday, August 10th, William Gerritsen, age 19, was given a lie detector test conducted by LAPD. Gerritsen, it turned out, had been hired by the owner of the property, Rudy Altobelli, to serve as caretaker and tend to the dogs when Altobelli was away. By now it was known that the fifth body found at Cielo Drive, the young man in the car, was that of 18-year-old Stephen Parent.

He was an acquaintance who had stopped by to see if Gerritsen was interested in purchasing a clock radio he was trying to sell. Under questioning, Gerritsen was interested in purchasing a clock radio he was trying to sell. Under questioning, Gerritsen said he felt responsible for Stephen's death since if he hadn't come over that night, he'd still be alive. But he denied any connection to the murders. Police couldn't help wondering why the young caretaker had been left alive and why, considering the gunshots and screams heard in neighboring homes, he claimed to have heard nothing.

But the results of the polygraph indicated he'd been truthful. However reluctant to give up the only suspect they had, they released Gerritsen the following day. They say Hollywood is where dreams are made. A seductive city where many flock to get rich, be adored, and capture America's heart. But when the spotlight turns off, fame, fortune, and lives can disappear in an instant.

When TV producer Roy Radin was found dead in a canyon near L.A. in 1983, there were many questions surrounding his death. The last person seen with him was Laney Jacobs, a seductive cocaine dealer who desperately wanted to be part of the Hollywood elite. Together, they were trying to break into the movie industry. But things took a dark turn

when a million dollars worth of cocaine and cash went missing. From Wondery comes a new season of the hit show Hollywood and Crime, The Cotton Club Murder. Follow Hollywood and Crime, The Cotton Club Murder. Follow Hollywood and Crime, The Cotton Club Murder on the Wondery app or wherever you get your podcasts. You can binge all episodes of The Cotton Club Murder early and ad-free right now by joining Wondery Plus. I'm Jake Warren, and in our first season of Finding, I set out on a very personal quest to find the woman who saved my mum's life. You can listen to Finding Natasha right now exclusively on Wondery Plus. In season two,

I found myself caught up in a new journey to help someone I've never even met. But a couple of years ago, I came across a social media post by a person named Loti. It read in part, Three years ago today that I attempted to jump off this bridge but this wasn't my time to go. A gentleman named Andy saved my life. I still haven't found him. This is a story that I came across purely by chance but it instantly moved me and it's taken me to a place where I've had to consider some deeper issues around mental health. This is season two of Finding and this this time, if all goes to plan, we'll be finding Andy. You can listen to Finding Andy and Finding Natasha exclusively and ad-free

on Wondery Plus. Join Wondery Plus in the Wondery app, Apple Podcasts, or Spotify. First thing anyone ever notices about Charlie is his size. Small, jarringly small, not close to the height of a boy his age. Next is how he'll take over a room if you let him. Big eyes filled with mystery, as if there's a joke only he knows the punchline to. They'll shine and smile when it suits him. And what suits him is when he's at the center of it all. Soon as the light is off him,

those eyes go dark and dead. You get the feeling something behind them is planning his next move. And oh, he's got a way with words. Even at five, he always seems to know just what to say. Truth or lie doesn't mean a thing. Words are just a way for Charlie to get what he wants.

He casts them into the world like shiny spiderweb threads, watching, waiting for the tug that lets him know someone is caught in the dream he's spinning. Uncle Bob knows better. He might be far from perfect, had his own bouts with the bottle before finding his way back on the path. Try as he might, he and Glenna and little Joanne, making Charlie fit in always seems out of reach. The boy's just got too much of his mother and uncle in him. They'll do what they can for family, since family's the start of everything.

But Bob doesn't expect much will change. Not long after Charlie arrives, Bob takes him down to Moundsville for a visit with his mother, if you can call it that. Whatever he feels or doesn't feel for the boy, it's hard to watch the two of them on opposite sides of that thick wall of glass. Charlie, if possible, looking even smaller than usual, afloat on a great wooden chair. Kathleen tries the comfort of words, since touching isn't allowed.

And then it's over. Whether Charlie feels comforted or not is beyond Bob to know. Whether Charlie feels comforted or not is beyond Bob to know. While caretaker William Gerritsen was being polygraphed, LAPD Sergeant Jess Buckles was approached by two detectives from the Los Angeles County Sheriff's Office. Buckles, along with Lieutenant Robert Helder and Sergeant Michael McGann, had been placed in charge of the Tate investigation.

The sheriff's detectives told Buckles about a case they were working on involving the stabbing murder of a music teacher in Malibu. The victim's name was Gary Hinman, and there was at least one striking similarity with the Cielo Drive slayings. On the wall, scrawled in the victim's blood, were the words, Political Piggy. The suspect was Bobby Beausoleil,

a young musician who'd been living on a ranch in the desert with a group of nomadic hippies, reported to be led by a self-styled messianic figure claiming to be the resurrected Christ. Buckles shook his head at the outlandish scenario. This had nothing to do with hippies, he confidently told the two sheriff's men, or any messiahs in the desert. It was about a drug deal gone sour. LAPD was well on the way to convincing itself of that. When Bob and Glenna Thomas bring Charlie in for his first day at school,

it's not what they might call a promising start. Puny and pitiful among kids his age, with the added burden of everyone knowing, or soon to know, his mother is in prison. Charlie's first day ends with him crying his way home. Whatever sympathy Bob might feel for the boy doesn't include indulging him playing his way home. Whatever sympathy Bob might feel for the boy doesn't include indulging him playing the sissy. He finds one of Joanne's frock dresses and makes Charlie wear it

to school the next day. If it's supposed to teach him something, it doesn't appear to work any better than anything else they've tried. Fact is, nobody knows what to do with Charlie. In school, there's nothing he's good at except getting picked on by the bigger kids, and they're pretty much all bigger than Charlie. Cousin Joanne, two years older and a world more mature, might not much like him, but she does what she can to protect him. Not that he seems grateful. When she steps in and defends him from one of his perpetual abusers, she's the one the teacher notices

and looks to blame. Charlie, being Charlie, says nothing in her defense, just stands there with that half-smile, like he knows something no one else does. If anything, he seems to enjoy watching others get in trouble for something he starts.

Enough is finally enough when, two years into his stay with the Thomases, he comes at Joanne with a sickle when she reprimands him while they're doing chores. She's convinced he would have used it too, if her folks didn't walk in the door at that moment. Charlie does what he always does, spins a lie about how she started it. By then, Bob well knows who to believe. Not that he expects another whipping will do much good. On Sunday, August 10th, 1969, 15-year-old Frank Struthers returned to his Los Feliz home after a brief vacation at Lake Isabella. As he headed up the driveway to stow his camping gear in the garage,

he noticed the speedboat still attached to the trailer behind the family Thunderbird. Frank's mother and stepfather had returned the previous day, and it was not like his stepdad to leave the boat out overnight. Walking around to the back door, he noticed that the window shades were drawn. The light was on in the kitchen, but when he knocked, there was no response. He called through the door.

There was only silence from inside. Feeling a bit spooked by all the things that seemed just a little off, Frank walked to the nearest payphone to call the house. The phone rang and rang, but there was no answer. He tracked down his older sister, Suzanne, and she told him to wait by the payphone. It was around 9.30 when she and her boyfriend, Joe Dorgan, picked Frank up. The three of them drove to the home of Lino and Rosemary LaBianca. Suzanne quickly found the spare set of keys in her mother's car and they opened the back door.

Suzanne stayed in the kitchen while Joe and Frank checked the house. They didn't get further than the entrance to the living room. Lino was sprawled on his back on the floor by the couch, a pillow covering his face. The front of his pajama top had been ripped open and something was sticking out of his belly. Joe and Frank immediately ran back to the kitchen. Joe didn't want Suzanne to see what they'd just seen. They found her staring at the refrigerator door. Two words were scrawled there in what appeared to be blood. Helter Skelter. Harvard is the oldest and richest university in America.

But when a social media-fueled fight over Harvard and its new president broke out last fall, that was no protection. Claudine Gay is now gone. We've exposed the DEI regime, and there's much more to come. This is The Harvard Plan, a special series from the Boston Globe and WNYC's On the Media. To listen, subscribe to On the Media wherever you get your podcasts. It's at the end of 1942 that Kathleen, having kept her head down and her eyes straight, is released on parole after serving three years. She gathers eight-year-old Charlie and they move back to Charleston, West Virginia.

Within a year, she's working steady and married to Louis, a man she met at AA. It isn't long before Louis is off the wagon, though, and losing whatever job he can find. Which means in the small picture that she has to keep working. And in the big, that life just doesn't turn out how you expect it to. Not by a long shot. Things aren't much better with Charlie. Seems the only thing he's learning at school is how to steal and lie better. The only property he respects is his own, and anything he wants, he takes to be his own. Doesn't make things

easier on Kathleen, having to contend with him acting up while trying to keep Louis on the straight and narrow. She loves the boy, no question of that, but by the time he's 12, he's more than she can handle, running away and getting into trouble every time she turns her back. Stealing little things around the house is one thing, but getting caught shoplifting stores will wind him up no better than his Uncle Luther, who lost his chance at early release from Moundsville after a short-lived escape in a stolen truck. So when she hears about the Gabalt School for Boys in Terreau, Indiana, it seems like a way to get some discipline

into Charlie. It's run by the Catholics, but you don't have to be one to get in. With support from the Knights of Columbus, the school might take Charlie with only a small payment from Kathleen. payment from Kathleen. Both Poitok Frykowski and Jay Sebring smoked pot sometimes. In my house were parties where people did smoke pot. And I must tell you that I was not at a Hollywood party where somebody didn't smoke a pot. Sharon not only didn't use drugs,

she didn't touch alcohol, she didn't smoke cigarettes. Her greatest picture she was doing was her pregnancy. I never seen a woman more preoccupied with it. Her greatest picture she was doing was her pregnancy. I never seen a woman more preoccupied with it. Roman Polanski had returned from an extended stay in Europe the night after his wife's murder. On August 16th, he reported to Parker Center in downtown Los Angeles to be polygraphed by Lieutenant Earl Deamer. The two men spoke briefly about Sharon's relationship with Jay Sebring, an ex-boyfriend.

The Polish director was certain the two had remained simply friends. Sebring had a reputation for tying women up, though Polanski was certain it had never gone beyond play acting. Sharon couldn't help laughing at the ridiculousness of it when he tried to do it with her. Polanski had gotten wind that the hairstylist had been in financial trouble, but discounted the idea that drugs had played a part in the slayings. Deamer asked about his recent horror film hit, Rosemary's Baby. Polanski suggested it was possible he had been the intended target of someone involved in witchcraft. He told the detective he planned to devote himself to solving the crime. He would gain his friends' confidence and subtly question them for possible leads.

If there was a Hollywood connection, he'd do what he could to find it. Lieutenant Deamer ended the session convinced the director had no involvement in the murders. Diemer ended the session, convinced the director had no involvement in the murders. Before leaving, Polanski told the detective, if I'm looking for a motive, I'd look for something which doesn't fit your habitual standard. Something much more far out than that. The way Charlie sees it, Gabalt might as well be Alcatraz. If the world was already against him,

the school isn't doing much to change that around. There might be classes, but you have to study religion, too. It's by no means clear to Charlie how knowing which president came when is going to get him anywhere in the world. There are sports for those who care about that kind of thing, but the way Charlie sees it, games are just games if there are no real stakes. Only good thing you can say about Gibalt,

the grounds aren't fenced in and the doors aren't locked. If you're punished for misbehaving, well, you might just misbehave yourself right out of the school when too much is asked of you. Charlie gets to go home for Christmas at the Thomas's. But the only part of it that amounts to anything is getting a chance to steal Uncle Bill's handgun. He waits till the grown-ups are out and runs the shower so Cousin Joanne won't hear him rooting around. But even that turns to shit when Joanne figures out his ruse and squeals on him. He gives Gibalt another ten months, receives more than his share of paddlings, before he runs off, making it to Indianapolis. Breaking into little shops is easy,

but there's only so much you can get rifling through penny-ante cash registers. At 13, he's learning his way around the night, finding ways to get what by rights should be his. But luck is something that's been in short supply since the day Charlie was born. And one night, what little of it he's got runs out when he's caught breaking into a store. This time, his fate isn't in his mother's hands, but in those of the judge he's got to stand before.

Still, it could have turned out worse. The old guy must have a soft spot for sentimental movies because he winds up sending Charlie to Father Flanagan's boy's town in Omaha, Nebraska. Despite Polanski's skepticism, LAPD proceeded on the assumption that the crime was drug-related. Meanwhile, another team of detectives

had been assembled to investigate the murders of Lino and Rosemary LaBianca. The crimes were less than 24 hours apart. Both involved multiple stabbings. Words had been scrawled in blood at both locations, but no connection was made. When it was learned that Lino had amassed debts amounting to several hundred thousand dollars, most of it lost at the racetrack, the LaBianca investigators considered the possibility

that gambling was behind the couple's murder. Working only a few feet from each other at Parker Center in downtown Los Angeles, the teams investigating the Tate and LaBianca murders might as well have been on opposite sides of the continent. Speculation was hardening into theory, and theory defined the investigative field. The two groups were rapidly becoming rival fiefdoms, each jealously guarding its territory.

There was the Tate investigation, and there was the LaBianca investigation, and it would remain that way throughout the summer. remain that way throughout the summer. Father Flanagan's turns out to be not so bad. Not because of anything it offers by way of learning or rehabilitation, but because it's lax enough to allow Charlie and his newfound friend, Blackie Nielsen, to escape after just four days. Turns out stealing a car is no big deal.

Next thing he knows, they're holed up in Peoria, Illinois with Blackie's uncle, a thief happy to show them the ropes. Best part of it? At 13, Charlie's got his hands on a gun of his own for the first time, and it feels good, cold and hard in his hand, an extension of his power into the world. Whatever folks make of the pint-sized hood pointing hard steel at them, they're not arguing, parting with the cash that was theirs and now is his and Blackie's. A grocery store is first, and then a casino. Who knew it could be this easy? Blackie's uncle is more than happy to have two accomplices who still look like school children, one small enough to slip into spaces no grown man could fit. He cuts them in for $150 on a $1,500 take, and they're just fine with that. It's on Charlie's third robbery that

this little parcel of luck runs out. This time when he's nabbed, it's for armed robbery. And this time, the judge hasn't seen Boys Town. Charlie is sent to the Indiana Boys School in Plainfield, a reformatory for boys considered incorrigible. There are locks and fences, and escaping would be more than a matter of just walking out. Some of the boys are as old as 21. A few of them are in for manslaughter.

Puny as he is, Charlie is going to have to learn new ways to survive. The Life magazine cover story on August 29th would say, many thought she was the most beautiful woman in Hollywood. She had almond-shaped eyes and the high cheekbones that go with being photogenic. She had the legs that miniskirts were created for. Her voice was soft, her manner gentle. She did not pursue her career with a ravenous ambition indigenous to her business. When she became pregnant this year, she announced the news, said a friend,

as if she had invented having babies. She was not promiscuous. Sharon was out of bounds, said one of the town's most successful bachelors. You just looked, and God, it hurt to look. But you couldn't touch. Sharon Tate was buried on Wednesday, August 13th, in a Gucci print mini befitting those legs. It was an event worthy of the kind of Hollywood premiere

she might have looked forward to in her unfinished career. Among the film luminaries were Kirk Douglas, Warren Beatty, Steve McQueen, and Lee Marvin. John and Michelle Phillips represented the burgeoning West Coast music scene. Roman Polanski looked small and frail beside his doctor, who on several occasions had to keep the director from breaking down entirely. Sharon's parents and younger sisters watched, inconsolable, as the casket was lowered. Other funerals would take place that day.

J.C. brings with many of the same attendees. Abigail Folgers on the San Francisco Peninsula, near where she had grown up. Stephen Parents across the city to the accompaniment of Little Fanfare, his casket carried by six high school classmates. Wojtek Frykowski's body would be flown back to his native Poland for internment there. Beyond the trauma of sudden death lay the utterly inexplicable

nature of the crimes. Five young lives taken by accident or illness, however tragic, could be laid at the feet of unruly fate, the will of unknowable gods or chance events in a universe of the unexpected. But this was an act of design. There was purpose behind it, however arcane or unknown. In their deaths, if one were only insightful enough, one might fathom a story. And a story implied the existence of a storyteller. You've just listened to Episode 1 of Young Charlie, the story of Charles Manson's disturbing evolution from troubled youth to notorious cult leader. In Episode 2, Charlie returns to prison where he studies Dale Carnegie's How to Win Friends and Influence People and L. Ron Hubbard's teachings on Scientology.

Armed with this knowledge and the dark lessons learned from fellow inmates, Charlie sets out to become a master manipulator and a more successful pimp. As Charlie's criminal sophistication grows, so does the looming sense of danger. sophistication grows, so does the looming sense of danger. His twisted worldview begins to take shape, foreshadowing the chilling future that will soon terrorize Los Angeles and shock the nation. The stakes couldn't be higher as this young man's path takes a sinister turn. How will Charlie use his skills of influence and persuasion? And who will fall victim to his deadly charm? To follow this gripping true crime saga, subscribe to Wondery Plus in the Wondery app. Episodes two through six are available right now ad-free. You'll also gain access to exclusive episodes and other riveting true crime podcasts you won't find anywhere else. Don't miss out on the full story of young Charlie.

Download the Wondery app and subscribe to Wondery Plus today. Next time on Young Charlie, Crazy Charlie. By 1954, Charlie has spent seven of his 19 years in six different institutions. After being paroled from number six, he meets and marries Rosalie Willis in West Virginia and decides to take his new bride to Los Angeles in a stolen car. This is Hollywood and Crime from Wondery. Young Charlie is written and directed by Larry Brand. Hollywood and Crime is created and produced by Rebecca Reynolds, John Ponder, and Tracy Patton, and produced by Jim Carpenter. Young Charlie was recorded at The Invisible Studios, West Hollywood, California,

and Blue Room Post in Manhattan Beach, California. Executive Producers Ben Adair and Hernan Lopez for Wondery. Executive Producers Ben Adair and Hernan Lopez for Wondery. and roast his celebrity guests like chestnuts on an open fire. You can listen with the whole family as guest stars like Jon Hamm, Brittany Broski, and Danny DeVito try to persuade the mean old Grinch that there's a lot to love about the insufferable holiday season. But that's not all. Somebody stole all the children of Whoville's letters to Santa, and everybody thinks the Grinch is responsible. It's a real Whoville whodunit.

Can Cindy Lou and Max help clear the Grinch's name? Grab your hot cocoa and cozy slippers to find out. Follow Tis the Grinch Holiday Podcast on the Wondery app or wherever you get your podcasts. Unlock weekly Christmas mystery bonus content and listen to every episode ad-free by joining Wondery Plus in the Wondery app, Spotify, or Apple Podcasts.