Now don’t jump the gun. I am not celebrating the eventual release of psychopathic murder accomplices or wannabe presidential assassins. Ritual murder/assassination/wearing red cloaks out in public during the daytimes = BAD. I’m aware.
It was announced last week that Lynette “Squeaky” Fromme was being released from the joint after doing 34 years of hard time for leveling a gun at President Gerald Ford in 1975 in Sacramento, California. I was one!
Going after the president with an unloaded gun wasn’t the first station that Squeaky baby’s crazy train stopped at. You see, she was the de facto leader of the Manson Family after Charlie and the other girls got pinched for the Tate/LaBianca murders in 1969. Fromme acted as his mouthpiece to the media, relaying everything everyone needed to know about saving the redwoods to prevent being murdered in your bed, carving “x”s into your forehead to show solidarity with your jailed cult leader, and kneeling outside of the courthouse until the end of time or until “our father, aka Jesus Christ, is released.”
I have always had a fascination with the Manson Family and their crimes. I read Helter Skelter when I was a kid and I slept with the lights on for a week straight afterwards. Then I read Ed Sanders’ The Family, which is an even scarier book – detailing all of the stuff that didn’t make it into Helter Skelter. These waifs and burnouts were gathered together by a shabby little ex-con with an iota of charisma and basically ended the peace and free love mindet of the 60s with edged weaponry. That’s a big deal. Plus – home invasion by knife-wielding murderous hippies is terrifying. These hoes would bust out of the desert at night, go on a kill rampage, and adjourn back to the sand the next morning. How scary is that?!?!
This is so her senior picture from the Murder High yearbook...
But of all of the mixed-up, murderous weirdos involved – Squeaky holds a special place in my heart. Why? Because she’s crazy, while being essentially non-lethal. You can’t be a spokesmodel for your cause and still keeping painting on the walls with the blood of the people you’re trying to reach. It’s just bad PR.
The Squeaksta WAS involved in some shady shit, don’t get it twisted. She was the chief threatener of snitches (she arranged for the attempted murder by LSD overdose in the hamburger of a former Manson Family member who was set to testify against Charlie’s Angels, no really). She was also briefly associated with the murder of a married couple by members of the Aryan Brotherhood after most of the Family had scattered to the winds. And then there was the day in Sacramento when she rolled up on the pratfall President in a red dress and cap and took out her pistol.
She said she knew Ford was in town and near her, “and I said, ‘I gotta go and talk to him,’ and then I thought, ‘That’s foolish. He’s not going to stop and talk to you.’ People have already shown you can lay blood in front of them and they’re not, you know, they don’t think anything of it. I said, ‘Maybe I’ll take the gun,’ and I thought, ‘I have to do this. This is the time.’ ”
She said it never occurred to her that she could wind up in prison. Asked whether she had any regrets, Fromme said, “No. No, I don’t. I feel it was fate.” However, she said she thought that her incarceration was “unnecessary” and that she couldn’t see herself repeating her offense.
That’s from CNN. Uh, ok, Squeaks.
Fromme had been incarcerated at a prison in Texas and was reportedly released on August 16 to wreak havoc on the populace. She was supposed to have been let out last year but she got some extra time tacked on for escaping from prison in 1987 when she heard Charlie was ill. She was found only a few miles from the prison. Guess law enforcement gets over that sort of thing, eventually.
Is it bad that I want her to come and stay with us? I’m sure she’ll just end up working at a Panera in San Pueblo. She will have a graying ponytail under her cap, and clean off the tables with a wistful look outside…thinking of what might have been if they had been allowed to live their dreams. Which would have amounted to everyone dying in a race war, and the Apocalypse happening and people living in a hole in the desert, and guess what? “Helter Skelter” was a song about British playground equipment, you stupid bitches! Hippies are so dumb.
p.s. Squeaky also gets props for her story about how she initially met Manson. She claims that she had been tossed out of her home in Redondo Beach, California and was crying on the curb when Shorty McStabYa sauntered over. He is supposed to have introduced himself to her as “The God of Fuck.” They did, and history followed.
p.p.s. Squeaky also gets props for telling the cops when she was arrested in Death Valley that Charlie had her blowing dogs as a symbol of her devotion. Now THAT’S a harem wife!
p.p.p.s. This is AMAZING footage from Lawrence Merrick’s 1973 documentary Manson, which reaches you about total outlaw shack, butch cut girls 60s counterculture gun glamour. Look at these gorgeous creatures in their revolutionary lunacy. Special attention must be made to Squeaky talking about her big gun as if it was her lover. Well, Charlie WAS in jail. Merrick, who was able to get stellar interview footage of perhaps the nuttiest tribe of people up til’ the Jacksons, was later gunned down and the murder was never solved. Yeah, it was probably a good idea to avoid this people around that time. Now they’re all old and can’t actually lift butcher knives or firearms without using some form of mechanical attachment on their Hoverround chairs.
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