The Mystery of Spahn Ranch - Part 1

 

Why did Joan Didion abandon her book about the Manson murders?

(Illustration by Matthew Billington/For The Washington Post: Frank Edwards/Fotos International/Getty Images: George Brich/AP; Wally Fong/AP; AP Images)

Didion's recently opened archives contain extensive notes about the project, which was based on her access to Manson Family member and star witness Linda Kasabian

August 16, 2025
By Lesley M. M. Blume

In late July 1970, at the beginning of the murder trial of Charles Manson and three young women in his Family, a 21-year-old named Linda Kasabian took the stand. Kasabian had recently given birth to her second child, and journalists noted how different this turncoat appeared from the other strange, seemingly feral Manson girls sitting at the defense table. By comparison, Kasabian exuded innocence: Her wide-set green eyes, blonde pigtails and "little girl's voice" were regularly noted in coverage of the trial — even though this serene accomplice managed to make even veteran crime reporters blanch when she recounted the events of Aug. 9, 1969: the horrific slaughter of actress Sharon Tate, then eight months pregnant, and four others.

Kasabian had driven the getaway car from the "Tate residence," as she primly referred to 10050 Cielo Drive during her testimony, and had been briefly present at the home of Leno and Rosemary LaBianca when Manson's followers murdered them the day after the Tate killings. Initially charged with seven counts of murder and one of conspiracy, Kasabian had agreed to become the prosecution's star witness in exchange for immunity. The intrigue surrounding her was palpable.

Toward the end of her grueling 18-day testimony, during which she described the relentless orgies and acid trips at Spahn Ranch, the Family's headquarters, Kasabian revealed during cross-examination that she was working on a book about her life with "author Joan Didion." The defense lawyers hoped that the revelation would help discredit Kasabian as a seeker of fame and fortune. For other reporters and writers already entrenched in their own ambitious book projects about Manson's world — including an underground press reporter and poet named Ed Sanders and prosecutor Vincent Bugliosi — this exclusive arrangement with Didion was very unwelcome news. Few in the trial press corps had detected Didion's presence when she visited the courtroom earlier in Kasabian's testimony: She had been discreetly seated not in the media section but among the public spectators.

The press corps covering the trial was "big enough to start its own country," recalled one crime reporter. Two quickie, sensationalist Manson books had been released before the trial even began. Rolling Stone had just run a blockbuster cover story featuring interviews with Manson and prosecutor Aaron Stovitz. One of the story's co-authors, a young music reporter named David Dalton, had, along with his wife, essentially embedded with Manson Family members who were still at Spahn Ranch. Sanders had been working on his own Manson book since early 1970, and Bugliosi had quietly planted his co-author, Curt Gentry, in the courtroom.

Linda Kasabian,  A Manson Family member turned prosecution witness. Author Joan Didion spent time with Kasabian for a planned book. (David F. Smith/AP)

In a crowded, feverishly competitive field, a book by Didion posed a unique threat. Following the publication in 1967 of "Slouching Towards Bethlehem," her report for the Saturday Evening Post on the onetime hippie nirvana in the Haight-Ashbury neighborhood of San Francisco, which had spiraled into hellish dissolution (the country's "center was not holding," it began), and the release of her essay collection of the same name the following year, Didion was seen by many as a cultural clairvoyant. Letters to her from solicitous editors at publications across the country revealed their view of her as uniquely equipped to parse for readers just exactly what the hell was going on with America's youth and what it all portended for the nation's soul. Even better that she was a product of, and a critic of, California, a place by then becoming accepted — sometimes begrudgingly — by those same editors as a cultural nexus and bellwether.

Luckily for the other writers immersed in the Manson world (some of whom were buying dead bolts for their doors), Didion's book with Kasabian did not ultimately come to fruition. As I've researched my own book in progress about coverage of the Manson saga, I've been flummoxed by the reasons behind Didion's apparent abandonment of the book, which had commanded a substantial monetary advance and received its own wave of media attention. What journalist would give up that sort of coveted exclusive? When others questioned Didion throughout the 1970s about the project's fate, she often gave vague responses. Members of the Manson Family were reportedly smug that she had walked away, convinced that their intimidation efforts against other journalists may have done the trick with her, too.

About a year after Didion's death near the end of 2021, the New York Public Library announced that it had acquired her papers, along with those of her husband and longtime creative partner, John Gregory Dunne: more than 300 boxes of the couple's writings, records, photos and other memorabilia. When the archive opened this year, I scored the first appointment to view it and flew to New York from Los Angeles, with hopes of finding material related to the Kasabian project.

When the archivist gave me a box containing some of Didion's reporting materials from the late 1960s and early 1970s, I sat for a moment before opening it. I willed it to be a trove but steeled myself for disappointment. Then I opened it and saw the item right at the top: a neatly stapled, 10-page document typed on onionskin paper bearing the simple title "Linda." I scanned it quickly, hands trembling. I felt certain I was holding a fragile draft of literary history, possibly even an early version of an unpublished "White Album" essay on Kasabian and her role in the Manson trial. Also in the box was a stack of neatly typed notes from Didion's interviews and interactions with Kasabian and other Manson-related research.

Charles Manson is escorted to court in Los Angeles in August 1970. (AP)

Like much of Didion's published reporting, the "Linda" document used a collage approach to journalism, weaving together her keen observations, snippets of dialogue with the principals, and fragments from the trial transcript in which Kasabian talked about drug use and orgies at Spahn Ranch. It was a rough draft by Didion's standards, but an evocative and complete essay by almost anyone else's. I spotted elements that Didion ultimately used in "The White Album," an essay published in 1979 in which she briefly recounted some impressions from jailhouse interviews she had conducted with Kasabian ("Each of the half-dozen doors that locked behind us as we entered Sybil Brand was a little death, and I would emerge after the interview like Persephone from the underworld, euphoric, elated," she recalled) and her interactions with Kasabian's attorney, Gary Fleischman, who had helped broker the book deal. Didion also wrote in "The White Album" of Kasabian telling her that she dreamed of someday owning a restaurant/boutique/pet store. It was the stuff of absurdity, Didion wrote, and the "juxtaposition of the spoken and the unspeakable" — i.e. the slaughters in which Kasabian had been an accomplice — "was eerie and unsettling."

But these were just crumbs; the quantity and quality of material that Didion had relegated to her archives were astonishing. In "Linda," there were glimpses of quintessentially idiosyncratic Didion, too, as she discerned significance in details that everyone else in the teeming Manson press corps had missed or deemed irrelevant.

The Manson trial drew a crowd of reporters (Wally Fong/AP)

Leaving coverage of the gorier details entirely to that crew (the "freakathon" theatrics of the trial, as reporter Ed Sanders put it), Didion carved out her own angle on the circus. Yes, she wanted to know how someone like Kasabian, so seemingly subdued and maternal, could have willingly joined Manson's cadre of murderous sex slaves. But she also wanted to use a study of Kasabian as a way to understand what had gone so desperately awry with "these children of the late forties," as she put it in her unpublished notes. The approach was reminiscent of her pilgrimage to study the hippies of Haight-Ashbury in 1967.

In the "Linda" document, Didion noted the unnerving properness of Kasabian's diction on the witness stand and her "Magdalene quality, there under the flags of the United States of America and the State of California." She described the titillating effect of the proceedings on visitors who had managed to score seats to the show — a microcosm of the nation's ghoulish fascination with the case.

"This was really worth waiting for," one attendee told Didion. "Just to see them in person," swooned another.

In her jailhouse interviews with Kasabian — and in later interviews with her in New York and in her home state, New Hampshire — Didion dug deep into her subject's early life. Kasabian told her that her childhood had been impoverished but occasionally happy, until her father abandoned the family "just before I entered school," adding that she'd always hoped he'd come back and that he'd given her a parting gift of "a whole bunch of pennies." Soon a violent, predatory stepfather entered the picture. Kasabian spoke of her early sexual precocity, her early marriages, her flirtations with the counterculture — and her urgent desire to get out of small-town New England. Any escape route would do. Life at Spahn Ranch was discussed in detail, as well as Kasabian's fleeing from the ranch after the Tate and LaBianca murders.

Perhaps the most grimly startling scene that Didion documented involved a visit she made with Kasabian and her young kids to Howdy's, a burger joint near Kasabian's ramshackle home in New Hampshire. Kasabian's children — one she had briefly abandoned at Spahn Ranch; the other was born in prison as she waited to testify — ordered hamburgers, french fries and Cokes. Didion observed with incredulousness: It seemed like such a normal, quintessentially American family outing.

"Linda had gone from Howdy's to the Spahn Ranch to Cielo Drive and now she was back at Howdy's, and none of it seemed to make much difference," Didion wrote in her notes. "It seemed to me sometimes that she had been in clinical shock all her life, and only the slightest accident or rupture of circumstances had taken her to Cielo Drive at all, this somnambulist from the depressed underside of New England."

Kasabian and her family also joined Didion in New York City around that time. Didion recounted in "The White Album" an excursion with this onetime Manson disciple to see the Statue of Liberty, her young children again in tow; Didion brought along her own young daughter, Quintana Roo. In her unpublished notes, Didion wrote that the kids — oblivious to the horrific events that had brought Kasabian and Didion together in the first place — sang "Jumping Jack Flash" and played together on the Staten Island Ferry. On a visit to Henri Bendel, an upscale Fifth Avenue department store, Kasabian overheard on the music speakers "Piggies" by the Beatles, a song from which Manson had drawn sinister inspiration. She ran to the bathroom to throw up.

Didion decided, in mid-1971, about a year after the Manson trial began, not to write the Kasabian book — at least not as it was originally conceived. Kasabian became a recluse; while she had been released from her legal obligation of exclusivity for the Didion project, she never spoke at such length with any other reporter. (She died in 2023, at 73.)

Meanwhile, Didion stashed away her material for nearly a decade: "The White Album," with its brief mentions of Kasabian and the Manson saga — about 1,000 words extracted from Didion's reams of reporting — was savvily released just weeks before the 10th anniversary of the murders. During the investigations and trial, some journalists practically sold their souls for comparatively insignificant Manson scoops, which they scrambled to publish as quickly as possible. More reporters had since vied for access to the reclusive Kasabian, with no success. Yet Didion had unapologetically taken what she wanted from their interactions, coolly strategized how to best use it to her literary advantage.

By the time "The White Album" was released, other writers had published big, noisy Manson books: Sanders's lurid account, "The Family," came out in 1971. Prosecutor Bugliosi released "Helter Skelter" in 1974; it became the best-selling true crime book in history. But in the afterword to the 20th-anniversary edition of the book, Bugliosi quoted Didion's famous words in "The White Album" to illustrate how the terrifying murders had defined the era: "Many people I know in Los Angeles believe that the Sixties ended abruptly on August 9, 1969 … and in a sense this is true. The tension broke that day. The paranoia was fulfilled."

While Bugliosi's book remains a widely read albeit controversial true-crime classic, Didion ultimately claimed a different sort of literary prize, burnishing that clairvoyant reputation with her narrower investigation. Other writers had devoted years and thousands of pages to deciphering the Manson morass, yet she was able to use her findings to define one of the most tumultuous decades in American history in a single, bare-bones essay, years after the fact.

Didion did privately acknowledge that the definitive "why" behind the ordeal remained elusive to her, even after the many hours she spent with one of the saga's protagonists.

"Everything that came to my attention about situations with Linda came down to the same thing: the paradox, the ordinariness of the situation and the extraordinariness of the fact, the mystery (in the theological sense) of the night on Cielo Drive," she mused in her unpublished notes. "I could not penetrate that mystery, or avoid it or evade it or get beyond it."

Lesley M. M. Blume is a Los Angeles-based journalist and historian. She is the author, most recently, of "Fallout: The Hiroshima Cover-Up and the Reporter Who Revealed It to the World." She is currently finishing her book on the Manson saga, "A Devil's Bargain."

Another cut wire that Bugliosi didn't want to talk about

Bugliosi ignored the cut wires at the Sebring residence.  He also ignored another "cut wire" at the Cielo house.   Researcher Josh Casey has posted this:

https://www.facebook.com/photo/?fbid=10238133839262352&set=pcb.1366973141060405

Pageant, Nov. 1969 issue

Ironically, the house where Sharon and her friends were found murdered had been wired to the Bel Air Patrol, but the service had been discontinued. It is possible the disaster might have been averted if the service had been "on," because an alarm is set off when power or telephone lines are cut.

"the service had been discontinued."

....uh... by who?  Sharon, Roman, or Rudy?  Or was it at the Bel Air Security Patrol end?

 

 

Under what circumstances? 

 

When?

 

 If the service had been discontinued a year before, perhaps by Altobelli in a cost-cutting move, it would have been unfortunate, but not especially significant.  But what if the service had been 'discontinued' a week before, or the night before?  Then it might have been very significant indeed.  

(It reminds me of the security guard at the estate adjoining the LaBianca residence who was supposed to be there that night but was inexplicably absent.)

 

You'd think a little tidbit like this would have been considered worth investigating, but this is the first I've ever heard of this.  Now the source might be a little sketchy, but it makes sense.  Logically speaking, the exact level of security the Polanskis were entitled to, given what they were paying, would have been of interest to detectives.  But as far as I know, this topic has never come up anywhere.

The Bel Air Security Patrol got a full pass on this, imo. No harsh spotlight was ever shined their way. But they had a lot to answer for.

 

 Chaos, by Tom O'Neill, pg200   

On Doris Tate: "Like her husband, she'd conducted her own investigation through the years, becoming convinced that the Cielo house was under surveillance by some type of law enforcement at the time of the murders."

What would make a more perfect cover for the surveillors than as a member of the Security Patrol?

 

 

 

Abigail Folger's Family has Published a Tribute Site

 abigailfolger.com

Remembering the Victims

 

56 Years (yesterday & today)

And Now A Word From Voytek Frykowski...

 Summertime--for many it is time to head to the beach, the resort, or some other fun-in-the-sun destination. For me I have been able to find time to renew my research into the lives of Abigail Folger and Voytek Frykowski--before they became victims of the Manson Family. In my post on Abigail here on Manson Blog, dated December 2, 2020 ("Abigail Folger: A Time In New York"), I published my discovery of a personal letter written by Abigail in 1968. This letter I found in the archived personal papers of novelist Jerzy Kosinski and his wife Kiki. As Kosinski once taught at Yale, it was only fitting that his papers have taken up permanent residence there.

The Kosinski archive is quite large, as it is comprised of over 200 boxes of personal papers, photographs, correspondence, address books, pamphlets, book galleys, and other assorted ephemera. Acting on a hunch in 2020, I looked for materials on Abigail and Voytek in the archive, since it was Kosinski who originally introduced Abigail to Voytek in New York, most likely in early 1968.

That said, I booked a flight to Connecticut and spent a week at Yale University in New Haven at the archives. I gave myself a week, since there were 84 archival boxes of material I wanted to see. Working from open to close--with the expert assistance of the Rare Book and Manuscript Library staff--I was able to complete viewing all 84 boxes. This time I did not find any documents authored by Abigail, nor did I find any photographs of she and Voytek. However, I did find a cache of letters and other items of interest. Most importantly, I discovered two personal letters written by Voytek Frykowski to Jerzy Kosinski and a personal letter written to Kosinski by the artist Witold Kaczanowski (Witold-K). Voytek's letters predate the murders, and Witold-K's letter was written in the immediate aftermath of them.

Novelist Jerzy Kosinski, who introduced Voytek to Abigail Folger, keeping an eye on Manhattan

440 E 79th St, New York City. Home to Jerzy Kosinski and his girlfriend, Kiki. Voytek would live here and with the Halberstam's after his arrival in America before moving in with Abigail Folger in the Upper West Side of Manhattan

Fig. 1 Rare photo of steel heiress Mary Hayward Weir-Kosinski, who was married to Jerzy from 1962-1966. She was said to be a mentor to Abigail Folger in New York when Abigail lived there

Fig. 2 Jerzy Kosinski and his girlfriend Katherina "Kiki" Von Fraunhofer in the late 1960's

Fig. 3 Large mailing envelope postmarked mid-September, 1969, which was found with Witold-K's letter, newspaper clippings, and other items, posted to Kosinski

As with Abigail's letter from May 23, 1968, Voytek's letters are also composed of words that are entirely his own. To be sure, much has been said about Voytek, but with these letters Voytek is finally able to speak for himself at length. Both letters document Voytek's struggle to find his place in America since his arrival in 1967, as well as his relationship with Abigail. The first letter is from September, 1968 and the second is from May, 1969. I have had all of the letters professionally translated from their original Polish, and have received kind permission to publish them. To my knowledge, none of these letters have been published before.

Voytek Frykowski

Fig. 4 Letter of Voytek Frykowski and corresponding envelope. This and subsequent images (figures 1-9) courtesy of the Katherina Von Fraunhofer-Kosinski Collection of Jerzy Kosinski General Collection, Beinecke Rare Book and Manuscript Library, Yale University)

"Hollywood, Sept 4, 1968

It Looks like I will stay here a little bit longer. Just in case, I gave up the apartment in New York and got one here. Seemingly, I repeat seemingly, it looks like things are kind of working here, unfortunately you and your advice are not here and this coffee brain of mine is on the verge of collapse. In other words, I am extending the painful agony, because it is convenient for obvious reasons but the pressure from the family is beyond any endurance of even the most advanced bathyscaphes and as you know, my dearest is not the most resilient. And on top of that, what about devices?

In short, things look like this: we rented an apartment, I am waiting for the promised job at Paramount (thanks to Romek of course), she also kind of wants to do something (to help the unemployed and poor, as if I was not the prime example of one). But in the meantime, trips to hometown, hours-long telephone deliberations, etc.

All in all, the situation looks bad, because the arguments against me are obvious. I know I cannot exist for too long as yours and Polanski's friend. Punching in the face as a novelty does make an impression, though temporary. I decided to use ruthlessly what I can and then leave with a broken heart and shrug. It looks like the end also with Bozena, in which Witek helped as much as he could and knew how. I still seem to have control over the situation. But that's not so important. 

All this looks like complaining but I have to give some report, I don't think it is the end of SS. Well, I'll live thru it somehow, the most important thing is to do something. California is good for young intellectuals from behind the Iron Curtain. I am only surprised you are not here. Renting an apartment is not expensive, it is sunny all the time, and you like sun, to ski in Aspen is only 45 minutes by plane or less. Fucking is not bad, maybe even better than NYC.

Think how you can get out from the claws of correspondence and bureaucracy. It looks like Romek will stay here longer, he has a free house and cool people around. Come, you will see. On Friday I will have the phone connected, this time with the restricted number and I beg you, don't give it to anyone--sad experience, as you know--here it is (213) HOllywood 3-1721, the address is on the back of the envelope, also only for you. I hug you, my friend, regards to Kiki, write, or better yet, call,

Yours Wojtek

P.S. Gibbie also sends you her kisses--poor thing, if only she knew what I know and you understand...

W."

In the first letter, Voytek and Abigail find themselves newly arrived in Los Angeles after the death of Kosinski's first wife, Mary Hayward Weir-Kosinski, who died on August 1, 1968. The couple drove across the country from New York City, where they just gave up their apartment on the Upper West Side of Manhattan. At first, Voytek appears rather pessimistic about his arrival in California, but decided to make a go of it with Abigail regardless.

The first two paragraphs describe primarily the relationship between Voytek and Abigail. It may make one wonder if by "coffee brain" Voytek is referring to Abigail's (Folger) influence on him. He may be able to withstand this for "obvious reasons," but he is continuing to do so under a pressure that is beyond the endurance of the most advanced deep sea submersibles (bathyscaphes). What he refers to here when he says "devices" is unknown.

Interestingly, Roman Polanski (Romek) arranged for a job for Voytek at Paramount Studios. It is therefore probably not a coincidence that Voytek and Abigail moved into a rental home/apartment at 570 N Windsor Blvd in Hollywood, just a block south of the Melrose gate at Paramount. This establishes that undoubtedly this is their first apartment in L.A. as it is certainly before they moved into their future address at 2774 Woodstock Rd in Laurel Canyon. (There is some indication that the couple spent a few weeks in san Francisco at Abigail's mother's residence before making the move to L.A.).

570 N Windsor Blvd, Hollywood. First home to Voytek and Abigail in Los Angeles

The Melrose gate of Paramount Studios, Hollywood, one block north of Voytek and Abigail's rental house at 570 N Windsor Blvd. Roman Polanski arranged a job for Voytek here

We learn that Abigail indeed is interested in the social work she famously has been credited for, but in the meantime she is making trips to her hometown in San Francisco. (Her father, Peter Folger, said in a newspaper interview very shortly after the murders that Abigail "pretty much commuted" between L.A. and san Francisco during this period). 

Following on, Voytek appears to reverse himself from things "kind of working" in L.A. to, "the situation looks bad." He cites arguments against him (from the Folger family?) And appears to claim that he cannot ride the coattails, so to speak, of Jerzy Kosinski and Roman Polanski forever. Perhaps Voytek then tells us that he may enjoy his time in America with Abigail, but then "leave with a broken heart and shrug." This scenario could make sense when we read that it is "the end" also with Bozena (a female Slavic name primarily in Czech and Polish, which means "divine"). Voytek may have been possibly carrying on a relationship with this woman at the same time he was together with Abigail.

Nevertheless, Voytek vows to carry on in L.A. doing "something". He invites Kosinski to California, cataloguing its many pleasantries, and remarks how Roman "will stay longer," as he and Sharon were living at 1600 Summit Ridge Drive at the time. 

Voytek closes his letter by telling Kosinski that the phone to the Windsor Blvd apartment will be connected on Friday. The letter was written on Wednesday September 4, 1968, with Friday being the 6th. Most tenants move into new rentals at the beginning of the month, so it is not inconceivable that Abigail and Voytek moved into Windsor Blvd on Sunday September 1st, with Labor Day being the next day. The phone number and address were to be "restricted" for unknown reasons, but obviously this was precipitated by some "sad experience".

Of note here also is the P.S. statement about the "poor thing"--Abigail. We can only wonder what Voytek knew that Abigail did not.

Abigail Folger at Los Angeles International Airport. Photo: Witold-K/Facebook

In Voytek's second letter, dated May 26, 1969, we jump ahead over eight months. In that time he and Abigail moved out of 570 N Windsor Blvd and into 2774 Woodstock Rd. When exactly those changes took place we don't know. However, we do know that by the time of the writing of this letter, Voytek and Abigail were occupying 10050 Cielo Drive from April 1, 1969. Their Woodstock Rd rental house was occupied by artist Witold-K, along with--for a time--Pic Dawson.

Fig. 5 Letter of Voytek Frykowski

"L.A. May 26, 1969

Jurusiu, [diminutive of Jurek]

You see how nicely I call you? Yesterday, I got a call from a mysterious Elzbieta Kosinski who told the lady who answered the phone that I know the number. "He got married, bastard and didn't say anything"--I thought and immediately called New York, where, as you know for sure, there is neither you nor Elisabeth nor a living soul. Amen.

If this day belongs to the astronauts, yesterday's Sunday was yours. Besides a mysterious wife (because how should we call her?), Los Angeles Times published a wonderful review of your books, or maybe better to say--about you. Mr. Robert Kirsch in his article titled "Jerzy Kosinski--The Novelist As Wanderer" wrote such great things that Tyrmand or some other bastard will probably start saying that Robert Kirsch is your true name; a week later "Zycie Warszawy" [Warsaw Daily Newspaper] will repeat the gossip, will add a little and under the title "Our Man In Geneva" will unveil your Nazi-Zionist face, etc.

I miss you, maybe you could fly here my friend?

For two months, Witold-K has been in L.A. He came with a thousand stories, what he is doing here, why he is doing it and who he is doing it for; it ended with him sitting quietly on his ass in my house and going through the hard school of America. I prefer not to predict the future, since he is a rather dumb student. Despite everything I will try to help him though in a limited scope. He is not bad, but alcohol just damaged his gray cells.

Some time ago, David visited L.A. As usual, he complained about everything and everyone; I invited him to Romek [10050 Cielo Drive] and this was just beyond his strength and abilities to comprehend. "I am sorry, Wojtek, but they are big children. I am too old for that, I cannot do it, I will not do it"--he almost shouted and cried like a little child. The point was that nobody saw him on TV, nobody asked him about Vietnam and nobody drank alcohol. I wanted the best and it turned out the worst.

Looking back on my two American years I can see how lucky I was that I met you and Romek. If I didn't I would still be sitting half-drunk in Halberstam's kitchen carrying on fierce disputes with Tyrmand over what Pilsudski told Niedzinski in 1933. You taught me a lot, mainly how to adopt a Pole to the American technique of life, which you have mastered to perfection. Romek rejuvenated me to such a degree that more and more often and more and more  seriously I think that the voting age should be lowered to twelve and nobody above the age of fifty should vote.

As usual, I exaggerate; however, at this moment I am convinced that the front line is between young and old and not races, systems, gays, etc.

What I wrote above I knew, or better--I felt through my skin. I was convinced I was right after interviews conducted by Lou Harris (published two weeks ago in Life) and Gallup. In short, everything comes to a simple statement: the most conservative, regressive group of people are uneducated boors and how the Americanness in the world is about hatred of the poor towards the rich, so is their (the old) conservatism based on boors' aversion to educated and intelligent people. Never before has education been so widespread, and it is mostly young people who study but what is more important, more and more often they are taught by other young--the conflict is inevitable.

I am sorry for such a serious tone but what is going on here recently pissed me off to the highest degree. The governor Regan teaches the best professors in the world how and what they should teach and it reminds me of the worst Stalinist times. Inside me slowly grows a desire to write something so bad that if it gets published anywhere I will be sent to the moon without a return ticket. But I didn't come here to be afraid.

Hugs, Wojtek

P.S. I am sending this letter to your New York address in the belief that your bureaucratic system will forward it to Geneva, or whatever."

The job at Paramount Studios, organized by Roman, was abandoned by Voytek due to lack of interest or suitability. Thus Voytek found himself later at Cielo Drive and characteristically unemployed again. He begins the letter describing, "the lady who answered the phone," and he is no doubt referring to Mrs. Chapman the maid. As in his first letter, Voytek invites Jerzy Kosinski to Los Angeles, and expresses the fact that he misses him. We are then reintroduced to Witold-K, and consequently how Voytek feels about him, and his assessment isn't very flattering. Although much has been said about Voytek's involvement with drugs, there is no blatant mention of it in this letter. However, a subtle indication may be found here in that David Halberstam seems to ardently complain to Voytek that he does not want to "do" something at Cielo--that something may have been drugs. Also of interest is the fact that Voytek makes no declaration here that his relationship with Abigail may be failing, and all of this is just weeks before the murders.

We are also made aware of the fact that David Halberstam visited from New York. Halberstam (who died in 2007), was an American writer, journalist, and historian who wrote on a number of topics. He was an expert on the Vietnam war, and won a Pulitzer Prize in 1964. He was married to Polish actress Elzbieta Czyzewska, and both were close friends to Jerzy Kosinski, and, by extension, to Voytek. In fact, in addition to living with Jerzy and his girlfriend, Kiki in New York, Voytek also resided temporarily with Halberstam, and even had the privilege of the use of his car.

David Halberstam

David Halberstam and wife. Like Jerzy Kosinski and his girlfriend, Kiki, they hosted Voytek in New York City

Although all of Voytek's letter is interesting, for me the most telling part is the paragraph where he acknowledges both Kosinski and Roman as his teachers in "the American technique of life." Voytek closes his letter (ten weeks before the Tate/LaBianca murders), with the chilling statement, "[b]ut I didn't come here to be afraid."

PROLEGOMENA TO ANY FUTURE VOYTEK FRYKOWSKI

I did not find any additional letters from Voytek in my current research, so the words of Voytek in these two letters must suffice for now. However, I did find several letters from artist Witold-K, with one letter in particular almost entirely devoted to the near- immediate aftermath of the murders.

Probably the first substantial information on the Cielo victims given to police came from Witold-K, and in this letter we find the artist in fear for his life--this is how close to the murders this letter was written. I found this document in a file folder accompanied by a large mailing envelope (along with copies of several newspaper articles and other items), postmarked September 16, 1969 from Beverly Hills, CA. This letter obviously follows from the terrified phone call Witold-K made to New York City almost immediately after the murders, pleading for guidance in what to do.

Witold-K in his gallery in Beverly Hills. Interestingly, the building that housed the gallery also included the office of Los Angeles candidate for mayor, Tom Bradley. Abigail Folger was a campaign volunteer for Bradley in the spring of 1969 

Indeed, David Halberstam was involved with the phone call, and through him Witold-K was instructed to contact LAPD, who collected the artist, took his statement of what he believed caused the death of the people at Cielo Drive, and provided him protection. At this time in the story the investigation was intense, with a multitude of people being interviewed by police. Even though William Garretson had been cleared as a suspect, other persons of interest had emerged as potential suspects, and the secondary investigation of narcotics touched upon many of these people. 

At least three of these people were Pic Dawson, Billy Doyle, and Thomas Harrigan. Witold-K is convinced the killer is Dawson at this early stage of the investigation, with Harrigan turning himself in for questioning very shortly after the murders, and Billy Doyle being interviewed by police in Toronto, Canada on August 30, 1969. 

Pic Dawson, middle, with Cass Eliot

Thomas Harrigan, right, with attorney Paul Caruso

In this letter, Witold-K is able to amplify statements he made available on his Facebook page about Cielo with Voytek and Abigail in the summer of '69.  (See my post here at the Manson Blog, "Abigail Folger: L.A. Woman," March 22, 2022). But here--if true--we see Voytek immersed much deeper in drug use. This revelation basically parallels Harrigan's much quoted statement that Voytek's entire physical appearance changed while on the 10-day mescaline experiment. Moreover, that Jay Sebring--who was also allegedly as drugged at this time--tilted his head to one side and stared off into space transfixed, as if viewing a movie only he could see.

 Fig. 6 Excerpt of Letter of Witold-K to Jerzy Kosinski

"Jurek, my dear,

I thought you are staying in Europe, calm and soothing like the Alps. If you only knew how much I want to get out of this nightmare! Waiting for a bullet into your back is a little bit unnerving. The situation here is quite complicated. In my opinion the murderer is Pic Dawson. My beliefs are based solely on psychological premises and...on my intuition, which in general doesn't fail me. Police showed complete ineptitude and disclosed to the media the names of people I gave them. It is not difficult to construct an alibi in this country. Everything is so much more difficult because Dawson is a son of a high government official and I was not surprised that the detective's boss, Mowton (?) with whom I am in daily contact, flew to Washington.

I think they care more about hiding the scandal, as with Polanski who, nota bene still moves using his Polish consular passport. Our dear Wojtus (diminutives of Wojciech and Wojtek) blew up Hollywood, but this is nothing compared with what he is about to get. The murder showed how drugged is this artistic community and, in a few weeks, we will have a few dozen of lawsuits. And very famous names will be involved. The situation was escalating here (I mean in Romek's house) for the past 4 months. Wojtek rubbed shoulders with the gangster-drug addict types who were selling "strong" drugs and he dreamed to make money of it too. 

I was a daily witness of him getting deeper in. In fact, for the last two months he was in such a state that you wouldn't recognize him. He could not refrain from using cocaine and mescaline with LSD. All of this is a stunning mix, which changed his mentality, physiognomy and most of all, his eyes. He constantly had bazedov in black [I think he refers here to Graves-Bazedov disease]. Once I walked with Wojtek into the bathroom and when he saw himself in a mirror he started to scream that he sees an Indian who wants to kill him; he ran away yelling and threw himself into the pool hoping to destroy the vision which followed him. 

The worst was that he was picking on everyone, offended them, threatened his guests with a gun a few times a day. The reality and delusions blended into one. Contact with him was getting more difficult. I wasted hours trying to convince him he is drowning. He thought he is climbing up and not going down and he considered me to be the man who stopped in one place. I met all those men who used to come there because I was there almost every day, continually painting, even though there were dozens, sometimes even several dozen drugged people around me. Of course, I tried a little bit of everything not being able to resist his constant persuasions and curiosity pushed me to do it too.

However, after mescaline I experienced a shock (I am probably too weak for it) I will never forget until the end of my life; I wanted not to exist, get rid of consciousness, body, my own weight and breath. I probably would have hanged myself if not because of some girl who followed me around, it was 2.5 months ago. I swore to myself that I will never try it again; someone who never lived through this will never understand.

4 days before the murder, Wojtek came to the gallery and announced he is doing an experiment: he decided to be on permanent mescaline for 10 days while still using cocaine and smoking marijuana. He also didn't shy away from vodka, which surprisingly he hadn't touched in the last few months at all. Both he and Gibbi were practically unconscious already by midnight. There is no doubt he recently hated Gibbi with all his heart but without her he wouldn't be able to buy drugs. So Gibbi pushed that crap into him to keep him close. She of course fell in love with him some two months ago when he started to fuck her, normal.

All this is just a few little details. That is how it is with people who feel to be artists (like our Wojtus) but have neither talent nor artistic will. This inner conflict accompanied him all his life. Creative impotence kills ambitious people and different ambitions he had many. When it gets to lawsuits, there will be many nasty little things like, for instance, in Canada they came up with a new drug, insanely strong and making people very "high". There is an evidence that Wojtek, at all cost, wanted to be the only distributor of this drug in the US and tried quite brutally to eliminate the competition; financial matters got mixed in--the rest you have to imagine yourself. Because of his state, he didn't have any control over the situation. But serious drug dealers don't touch drugs and if they do, they are eliminated. Wojtek went with a hoe against the sun.

Another small example which will surface after some time, is that he moved into the house for which Gibbi paid, some shady characters. They occupied the second bedroom and Wojtek in secret from his fiancée collected 'modest payments'. A lot of bitter hatred accumulated against him and the number of avengers was growing. I looked at all of this from the side and was overcome with terror. Wojtek was repeating over and over again how wonderful a psychologist he is and how well he can read people. This was a conviction carried from the past and strengthened by his quick social successes in California (because Romek's splendor and the splendor of his residence was falling gently on Wojtek like a chocolate mousse, dulling his vigilance, intelligence and ability of logical thinking). What is interesting is that at the same time, with drugs, he developed an incredible ability to associate things and I would spend interesting evenings with his surprised by his poetic metaphors, ripostes intelligent as never before. All of this went duly and always in the land of paradox, word play and surrealism.

No wonder that encouraged by his flourishing intelligence he reached for a dangerous game playing a drug dealer. But in a principle of logical intelligence, mental vigilance rule and the multiplication table is the base of all actions. One pays with life for mistakes. 

I am glad I could collect your letters, letters of recommendation, Romek's autobiography, which he put together quoting you, David and Roman before the police got to his papers. It would also be a real treat for journalists. Also, (I collected) some letters to some friend in Canada in which he quotes you and gives an order how to deal with women, formulating a recipe how to beat, kick, spit in face, etc. (tying to chair with ropes). He describes how you two hired some ass and that you are the best specialist in those matters, his master and teacher. You were his godly authority but the stupid prick didn't understand that one does not give names and such matters should stay between friends.

I have a 3-4 kilogram package of documents, letters, "golden thoughts," unpaid bills, scripts, which were started and never finished, photographs, and other scraps of paper. I hid it well. I may be in NY in 10 days. We will talk.

Kisses to Kiki,

Witold.

P.S. Local press constantly prints my name and my photos can be found on front pages--a sad opportunity for publicity, especially that I knew how I struggled before. And the fact that all of it is based on Romek's misfortune [intelligible--I think there is a word missing here; the infinitive in the middle of a sentence without either a noun or some modal verb], even establishing my own gallery did not bring me joy. No satisfaction from work, just a bit of bad taste and sleepless nights; that's all I can write about myself.

Witold"

Yet we do find agreement between Witold-K and Roman Polanski over the talents (or lack thereof) of Voytek. Roman, to be sure, has famously said that Voytek possessed little talent but evidenced great charm. And here Witold-K similarly remarks that Voytek had neither "talent nor artistic will. This inner conflict accompanied him all his life. Creative impotence kills ambitious people and different ambitions he had many." And sadly, if true, we learn perhaps for the first time that Voytek "hated" Abigail near the end of their stay at Cielo. But this seems very difficult to accept, and this is very very terrible language indeed. 

We then learn of Abigail and Voytek's rented house at 2774 Woodstock Rd, and the fact that Voytek was renting out one bedroom to "shady characters," one of whom was Pic Dawson. Here Witold-K does not discuss the fact that on the afternoon of August 15, 1969 he turned over to police a bag containing marijuana from the bedroom of Abigail and Voytek. He found the bag concealed behind a dresser, and told police he did not know who it belonged to. It could be that the writing of this letter of Witold-K preceded the police report of August 15th, as the letter was not dated, and would possibly account for the omission of the story of marijuana found in the bedroom. 

Police report describing the bag of marijuana found in the bedroom of 2774 Woodstock Rd

2774 Woodstock Road

The letter continues, however, with Witold-K's statement that he carefully collected an assortment of documents, scripts, photographs, and other items which he concealed from authorities. This group of materials amounted to a package weighing some 3-4 kilograms. I did not find this large group of materials in the Kosinski archive at Yale in my latest research, but since I have yet to view some 116 remaining archival boxes in the collection, that package may surface. It made me wonder if the scripts referred to here were the product of Voytek's work in his capacity as a burgeoning writer. (Yet Tom O' Neill, in his book, Chaos, does make mention of a large manila mailing envelope that Witold-K produced during his interview with him. The envelope contained, among other things, the original airline ticket stub from Voytek's arrival in America in 1967). It may be the case, though, that Witold-K did not give this package of materials to Kosinski. If that is the case, the artist may have retained that package for the rest of his life. Witold-K died in Poland on March 12, 2025 at the age of 93. In fact, when I contacted Witold-K on Facebook in late 2020, he said he did have photographs of Abigail and Voytek, but that he did not intend to publish them. Yet the next day after our correspondence two new photos of Abigail appeared on his Facebook page.  

Artist Witold-K in a recent photo

SYNTHESIZING WITNESSES

It is arguable that the short account of Voytek by Thomas Harrigan and the account of Witold-K are in basic agreement. But when we consider the account of Billy Doyle, the story goes a somewhat different direction. The following are excerpts from Doyle's August 30, 1969 interview with police in Toronto:

"I loved Voytek. I don't think Voytek would be willing to hurt me or anyone else...I think his relationship with Gibby--I think Mr. Folger should and will soon investigate everything and everyone. Gibby Folger was not a drug addict. Gibby Folger, I repeat, was not a drug addict. And, and thought it was a big deal, and thought she was being incredibly mischievous to take a poke off somebody else's joint."

"Gibby was a girl of breeding. She was a lady of quality. I was very, very, very fond of Gibby. She was a lovely girl. She loved Voytek and that was obvious. She wanted him to marry her...[Doyle does admit that Voyteck drugged his drink and got him very high in response to Doyle claiming Communism was more evil than Nazism]. And he wouldn't marry Gibby on the account she was wealthy..."

"I don't believe she was keeping him [Voytek], I believe Roman was. And it may be expedient for Roman to deny it now. Uh, Voytek has told me so. Voytek indicated to me that his friend Roman was helping him...Voytek lived a purely social life. He had no--the fact that Voytek was even a drug dealer is as alien as the thought of me homesteading on the moon; he--first of all he had great difficulty speaking English. He was so far out of touch with that kind of thing that he couldn't have sold any drugs and he wouldn't--I don't believe he really knew where to go buy any. In fact its a mystery who was his connection. And I can tell you right now, it wasn't me."

"Voytek tried to help [Pic Dawson get clean from heroin, and let him live at 2774 Woodstock Rd.]. Voytek was not a bad fellow. Everybody that represents Voytek as being a bad fellow, has something to gain by or something to hide by doing that. Voytek was motivated by the highest things. Voytek wasn't strung out, when I saw him last or any time in the time that I saw him. he really wasn't. Pic was, he was really in bad shape. Voytek took him in and cleaned him up..." (Excerpts from the tape recorded interview of Billy Doyle, courtesy of Cielodrive.com Audio Archives).

The last scene of the life of Abigail Folger and Voytek Frykowski, here on the lawn of Cielo Drive

If we attempt to synthesize the statements about Voytek by Witold-K, Thomas Harrigan, and Billy Doyle, we need to establish when these statements were made. It is most likely that Witold-K provided the earliest details, followed by Harrigan, who turned himself into LAPD for questioning, accompanied by Caruso, in mid August. Doyle's interview followed on August 30th. This amounts to approximately a three-week period of time, and there does not appear to be any concrete proof of direct communication between these men in which to compare notes. Although both Harrigan and Doyle's statements may have benefitted by early newspaper accounts of facts gleaned from Witold-K. 

What we have in sum, therefore, are the distinct and separate experiences of these three. To be sure, to Doyle, Voytek could not have been a drug dealer and was never "strung out" in the time that he knew him. Doyle would have last seen Voytek shortly before the 15th of July 1969, which was likely the time that Voytek slipped Doyle the mickey finn. Just days later, Billy Doyle accompanied Charles Tacot to Jamaica.

Since Doyle's account of Voytek is so different, it may be argued that Doyle was lying to provide cover for Voytek--this perhaps in an effort to shield Doyle from acknowledging (admitting) any more awareness of drug activity. And on August 30, 1969 he may have had a good reason to do so, as in the taped interview we hear that the police were "not certain" about the relevance of drugs in the case. That said, the possible contribution of drugs in the murders still loomed large in the late summer of 1969, and it would be three months before the identity of the true killers would be brought to light.

Witold-K closes his letter worried about his photo being published in the local newspapers, as he was still in fear for his life for providing the police the names of suspects within days of the murders. His new claim to fame was to him an unwanted one. In time, Witold-K would slowly begin to walk away from this tragedy, and try to reestablish his life--and he had to do that without his friends Voytek and Abigail.

Fig. 7 New York Post article from August 21, 1969 found in the archive with materials Witold-K sent to Kosinski. Kosinski basically calls Voytek a student of life in this article, and goes on to say that Abigail brought to Voytek's life a "great exchange"

Fig. 8 Another article here by Fernando Faura for the Hollywood Citizen News/Valley Times, August 29, 1969. An article appearing the day before quoted Lt. Robert Helder as saying, "police had 95 per cent of the information Witold had to offer," and Witold was "not really that important to the investigation." 

Fig. 9 Las Vegas Sun article from September 1, 1969 found in the Kosinski archive. Here Witold-K travelled to Las Vegas to attend an exhibition of his paintings--without police protection

Before this could happen, there was a memorial service held for Voytek in New York City. It is unknown all who attended, but I did chance upon a cashed check in the Kosinski archive written by Jerzy Kosinski to David Halberstam on October 11, 1969 in the amount of $115. Written in pencil at the top of the check were words to the effect, "performed service of Frykowski unpaid". Halberstam, his wife, Kosinski, and Witold-K all had a hand in the arrangements of the memorial service.

Witold-K would not spend much time in L.A. after the conviction of the killers. He moved his work to Texas, New Mexico, and for many years to Denver. He returned to Europe to spend the last seven years of his life in Poland.

LIMITATIONS

This research trip yielded several letters and newspaper clippings surrounding the life of Voytek Frykowski principally in Los Angeles between August 1968 and August 1969. What these materials do not evidence is any new startling revelation about Voytek outside of the accepted parameters. Namely, there are no smoking guns to be found here that alter the totality of the TLB story; no indication of secret agent guys, soldiers of fortune, or rituals; and most certainly no mention of any greasy young people from a certain run-down movie and horse ranch in Chatsworth, CA. Indeed--in outline form--the substance of the letters of Voytek and Witold-K fit neatly within the framework of Vincent Bugliosi's book, Helter Skelter. According to Bugliosi, "something changed" after Abigail and Voytek moved into Cielo Drive. "Abigail was also disturbed about the way her affair with Frykowski was going, and with their use of drugs, which had passed the point of experimentation. She talked about all of these things with her psychiatrist, Dr. Marvin Flicker. She saw him five days a week, Monday thru Friday, at 4:30P.M...Flicker told police that he thought Abigail was almost ready to leave Frykowski, that she was attempting to build up enough nerve to go it alone... Friends of Abigail Folger told the police that Frykowski had introduced her to drugs so as to keep her under his control. Friends of Voytek Frykowski said the opposite--that Folger had provided the drugs so as not to lose him." (Vincent Bugliosi, Helter Skelter, W.W. Norton, 1974. p. 59-61).

Voytek Frykowski and Sharon Tate at Cielo Drive mere days before the murders. What kind of atmosphere did Sharon encounter at Cielo upon her return from Europe in mid-July 1969?

What these letters in particular do offer are the observations and experiences of Voytek and Witold-K in their own words, and not simply what other people have been saying about them for 56 years. Probably the ultimate contribution of these documents is that they add color, personal history, and nuance to one aspect of the massive story that is TLB. My work in the Kosinski archive will continue, with the hopes that additional items of interest will surface within the framework of this story.

10050 Cielo Drive. Photo courtesy Cielodrive.com

The gate of 10050 Cielo Drive

Voytek Frykowski accompanied Abigail Folger to California in 1968, and moved into a rental a block south of the Melrose gate at Paramount Studios. Voytek entered that gate hoping to find something, but exited that gate dissatisfied, so he sought something else. He ultimately entered the gate of 10050 Cielo Drive seeking that something. He exited that gate and found eternity.