Leslie van Houten, Please Stay in Jail...

Pretty. It goes a mighty long way to get a Free Pass in this world. Social Invitations arrive. Chairs are offered. Doors opened...but for a vicious home invasion/spree killer, a jail house door shouldn't be one. Leslie van Houten, by certain measurements, can be considered the second most dangerous killer in the Manson Family, and here's why;
Of all the killers, from Gary Hinman being the first, to Shorty Shea being the last, only Manson himself desired that killing be done, except for van Houten. After hearing of the slaughter at the Tate house that previous August 9th night, and after seeing the ghastly news coverage, Leslie was the only one who eagerly volunteered to go on the second night of murder.
The Only One.
Tex and Sadie had to get high as kites on Speed to achieve Tate.
Katie, by this time, was a mere automaton under Charlie's grasp, and as a result would have walked through fire for that demented little dude because he was the only person in her life who ever …

Tell-All Books - The Good, The Bad, and The Ugly...

Tell-All books.
A umpteen million dollar industry.
Everyone from Indie publishers to The Big Five have invested great time, energy and moola taking on the stories of the main players in the Manson Family murders - the perpetrator and innocent alike - creating eye-catching book covers and swamping the market with promises of new insights and hidden gems into this almost half-century old event.
The over-riding problem in Tell-All's is the duo poison of money and agenda.
Money the publisher wants and is sure to get from a universally popular topic.
Money and Agenda the writer as victim or perpetrator needs.
And the older the players get in these crimes; oftentimes, the more there is a need to get that last word out and get that final pay cheque in...neither of which insures an honest and forthright literary take.
As many of you know, I started TLB2 with the goal of forensically examining these murders in a factually objective light, as all there was online was a handful of, what I l…

MsBurb is Baaaaack!

It's not like MsBurb to disappear.

Many people would like that, but I'm like a bad penny slathered in Ebola...I might hide inside a monkey for a wee while but, like Jack said, well, kind of, Here's MsBurb!

First, my apologies...

I went AWOL on both the 2nd Official Tate-LaBianca Murders Blog (aka TLB2) and the Buck & Buntline Inn (aka B3), as for the last number of years I decided to try my hand at longer works, and like chewing gum and walking - and I have no idea how people do that! - I left writing short articles to dive deep and long into novels.

In that time, I've written three books...

No More Blood - on the last three hours of Truman Capote's life - available right now as an ebook at Amazon.

No More Blood, being such a research heavy topic, and my first stab at a long work, took me close to two years to finish; although, Truman had been talking in my ear since '07, I just didn't think I had it in me then to attempt the feat.

18 1/2 - a …

Horror Haunting The Beauty…And Me

Early Morning…Saturday August 9, 1969
Crystalline, aquiline sky, omnipresent, penetrating heat, a suffocating kind of quiet in
Benedict Canyon.
No birds singing, the usually constant traffic melee down on Sunset Boulevard was mysteriously muffled to the point of non-existent, no voices even, no hint of living things...
The lodge-pole pines bent back and forth imperceptibly, the odd soft creak or groan could have been heard...if anyone with working ears were there...
Now - sheets, nicely laundered, freshly washed bed-sheets, so stark-white they were against the soft moss-green of the front lawn, blades of that grass grabbed by desperate fingers, those fingers now under those sheets in a rigid grip made some eight hours before.
Bed-sheets don't belong on front lawns, do they?
Finally - the hum-click of large professional photographic cameras, the odd hum-click of the pool filter, living beings there now but conversing in reverent tones and only to offer orders. Get this job sewn up as fa…

Make-Believe on Malibu Beach - A Story…

Disclaimer: This is a purely fictional tale, no such encounter ever took place…but oh, if it had…

A warm, soft-breezy day on Malibu Beach in August of ‘59.
Not a busy beach day for it’s Monday but some pale-skinned tourists and well-healed retired couples and Mothers with young children are quietly filling up the sandy shore. It’s a Teacher’s Day today in High School so teenagers from the Greater L.A. Area are haunting the coastline too - a rare thing for a weekday.
One Mother had to drive all the way in from the Valley to get her teenage daughter to the beach she loved the best, for this young Valley Girl had yet to attain her own driver’s license and was therefore at the mercy of her more-than-patient and loving Mom.
Another Mother had to merely stroll outside onto her own balcony to watch from afar her young child playing in this Pacific Ocean paradise, for this Mother and this child lived right on Malibu Beach, in a very pricey beachfront home. Afar was just as far as this social…

Bill Garretson…More Unplugged Than Usual? Part Three

Bill –
“Now [I] wake up to a nightmare in my mind.”“What the hell’s going on?”“Am I being framed for something?”What happened, what happened – nothing is making any sense to me.” One could, without much thought, just decide that Bill is one Tate property Christmas light short of Sharon’s entire string of bulbs but I know that just is not a fair nor accurate assessment. Anyone in Bill’s shoes that bright and sunny Saturday morning would have reacted the exact same way. Bar none! The breaking in of the Guest House door by a gaggle of LAPD uniformed cops, the rough-housing physical treatment they gave to Bill upon his on-site cuffing, the smell of dried blood in the sweltering Los Angeles sun and the incessant buzzing of blue-bottle flies around the corpses of Gibby, Voytek and Steve…as far I am concerned, lesser men would have outright fainted at the sights and the smells, let us not forget that.
Bill, from what I have gathered over the years, is quite the laid-back individual with tha…

Potluck With The Dead…A Story…

Every year since ‘69.
A house in which to hold the Potluck is chosen every year, beforehand, and ten people attend…every year.
It’s always on the 8th of August just because it was Sharon’s idea to have these potluck dinners in the first place. She always loved having people over, cooking herself, trying new foods, having Jay bring the wine and over these last 44 years she has accepted the fact that this odd band of souls would be forever linked, so why not get to know one another, truly, was Sharon’s feeling. And through these Do’s, all ten have become very close, you know, bonding better than blood relatives ever would, over an inevitable coming-together of fated Moments In Time and, well, summer wouldn’t be summer if you didn’t have a get-together, at least once.
This year, Gary’s place was chosen. It’s never a big deal for the guys to host the party for they know Sharon, Gibby and Rosemary will help them in the food  and party essentials department, how to buy, how to prepare, ho…

L to R: Charles Manson - Charles "Tex" Watson - Bobby Beausoleil - Bruce Davis - Susan Atkins - Patricia Krenwinkel - Leslie van Houten