My Forrest Gumpy Life: Brush with a Murderer

One of the strangest chapters of my life involves an encounter with a hugely famous music producer who worked with the Beatles, Ike and Tina Turner and many other pop groups. He said his name was Larry Spector but I believe he was really Phil Spector, widely known for creating the "wall of sound" that characterized much of 60's pop music, but then later revealed to have abused his own kids and finally charged with murder! 

I was 14 years old, walking around an outdoor art show in Monterey when when this guy came up to me and introduced himself, saying he liked my look and wanted to audition me to appear in a film! I was flattered with the offer and soon we met for an interview. And so began a series of meetings with him that seemed as though I was headed into a career as a film actor. I would later characterize the relationship as a clear case of sexual abuse––an older man's inappropriate attraction to a young one––but at the time, it was pretty exciting and I didn't know at that age what was appropriate for that situation and was too embarrassed to ask. 

He rented a series of mansions around Carmel, where I spent summers with my family. He'd come pick me up in a snazzy sports car and take me to his house, which was full of gold and platinum records on the walls (OK, so he's legit, I thought) and we'd discuss vague details of the script of a film. But then he'd jump to the scenes where the couple on the beach are making out and he'd show me how. 

I recall meeting him several times over a couple years, most of which were fairly innocuous incidents where he'd cook me a great meal or take me into town to buy me fancy clothes. But some were more creepy, which I objected to without really knowing what to do.

The most memorable encounter was when he drove me once to a house in the woods near Big Sur. We'd just arrived and were about to make lunch when he saw someone outside and told me to hide! I crouched behind the couch wondering why we're playing this game, while he crept about trying to keep away from a woman who was climbing around outside looking in the windows and calling out. She finally saw him and called him to open the door. Caught, he let her in and he introduced me to her as Candice, an actress. We sat in the living room and she took a real interest in me, asking me for instance about the sermon my dad had preached that morning in a local church. It wasn't til I got home later that afternoon that I told my family the story and described her work that my Mom recognized who I was referring to: the great actress, Candice Bergen!

He even came to Montana once to visit me, but he lost interest as I kept demanding more explanations and resisting intimate encounters, finding little evidence of a film; just a creepy old guy with a peculiar interest in a youngster. It was about 25 years later that Phil, who'd become strange and reclusive as he got older, was pegged in a huge national scandal which resulted in his conviction for the 2003 murder of actress Lana Clarkson. 

From our post-Me-Too era it's hard for me to judge what had happened. Clearly this was sexual abuse, but from my (admittedly naive) teen perspective I just didn't know what to call it besides strange.