3rd Letter from Squeaky

(written on a card she made herself, pictured here. On the back of the card it said "Alien on Earth")

Shannon

I have two undated letters from you that I want to answer but I’ve just whacked my hand against the metal frame of my bed and really ought to get some ice.
Okay.
Phillip Shelton is the name of the man I never trusted. Maybe you didn’t get that far yet. He was the private investigator-a creepy sort. I never liked him and made no secret of it. His chapter is one of vengeance.
Yes, Rachel didn’t mean harm; it just surprised me to read what she thought she experienced and heard. If she was taking license it was in the interest of explaining my actions.
I have not heard the song you sing [in the show]. Have you got a copy of the lyrics?
Is your hair red?
You should by now have received the returned stationary and envelopes you send me and I’m sure I would have liked then because what I’ve seen of your selections, I like your taste.
Did I happen to mention that I don’t squeak when I talk or laugh? I’m just ticklish. Lyn, Lynette, Red… all those I answer to. I answer to Squeaky only to explain that nobody calls me that. Squeaky is a part of me but she came from the heart of an old man and still lives there.
Yes I did purposely leave a bullet on my apt. floor instead of in the chamber of the 45 after checking the loading mechanism (the slide). I wanted to be safe and certain. I hadn’t decided one way or another what to do about negligent pollution of air and waterways and the OCEAN which does its best to filter and clean all we put into it that does not decompose. I did not feel reckless or suicidal rather as calm and sure as faith itself. I felt like I could do nothing but use all at hand to call for attention toward Earth. I realize that the attention ended up on me in the most unflattering of ways but I do feel that between the two of us, Blue and I got a little bit done, became part of a growing concern for Earth. I know that conditions are not much better now if not worse. We can’t force people to want to live. But I could leave this planet now and not feel that I totally failed it or succeeding generations who will hold us responsible. So no, I don’t regret that.
I’ll continue on another letter.
Can you throw the words air, water and animals into the play?
Lynette

As promised: the article enclosed in Squeaky’s 2nd Letter

“Owen & Mzee: Through The Viewfinder”

When I first focused my lens on the baby hippo struggling beneath a fish net in the back of a pick-up, I never anticipated what a remarkable story it would become. Back then, it seemed then to be just a curious quirk to the Asian Tsunami story, but one that would quickly disappear beneath the weight of tragedy welling up on the other side of the Indian Ocean.

But when I returned to check up on Owen a few days later for some more shots, I began to realize that the tiny mammal snuggling up to the centenarian reptile, was at the beginnings of a truly remarkable and captivating relationship. Watching the friendship develop has been a privilege of course, but it has also forced a rethink about what it all means.

Some scientists insist that we cannot and should not apply human emotions to our animal cousins. They argue that we have no way of knowing what is really going on in the minds of these two creatures. We should therefore not presume they are feeling anything remotely the way we do about our friends or family.

But seeing the bond grow between these individuals from two entirely different species and two entirely different ages, it has been hard to see it as anything other than a genuine love and affection. As with humans, it seems to be the little gestures that give it away.

Owen will often stand motionless by his guardian’s shoulder, his head tilted slightly towards Mzee’s. Occasionally, when he thinks nobody is watching, Owen will plant a sloppy lick across Mzee’s cheek; and when Owen is off exploring a corner of the forest, Mzee will wait in a clearing, staring at the bush until his friend finally emerges. The hippo also seems uncommonly protective, charging any stranger that dares venture too close to the tortoise.

Remember: Owen is a wild animal. Mzee has been around humans long enough to be tame, but the baby hippo has spent only a relatively short time in captivity. Even then it has been with very limited human contact. His behavior has not been learned from anyone other than his own family or his genes.

Perhaps that is what makes the story of Owen and Mzee so powerful; the fact that it is so unexpected. After all, every animal behavior expert we’ve spoken to is at a loss to explain it. Herpetologists tell us reptiles are purely creatures of instinct that could never respond to mammal, however affectionate it may be. Yet Mzee seems undeniably happy to have Owen around. Behavioralists say that Owen will eventually grow to understand that the old tortoise is not of his kind and go his own way. Yet every time I go out to take photographs, he seems as bonded as ever to his old friend.

Owen and Mzee have come together only because of the unusual circumstances of Owen’s separation from his family, his transfer to Haller Park, and the fact that they now share a big space to live in. But it seems to be a powerful sign that all of us – hippos and tortoises included – need the support of family and friends; it doesn’t matter if we can’t be near our own blood kin.

Then again, perhaps it doesn’t matter what Owen and Mzee are thinking. Perhaps it is enough that we humans are able to learn something simply from watching them.

-Peter Greste, Photographer

As Promised: the interview excerpt Squeaky enclosed in her 2nd Letter

Interviewer Question: What was your intention when you took the gun and went out to meet President Ford?

Lynette’s Answer: It was my intention to be a voice for the Earth, to say that before all political ways of life, before class and race and gender, the earth needs to be seen and heard and fought for. The earth comes first in importance.

This was a time in history when a terrible war had just ended, when people had been in the streets all over the country protesting the wear, racial injustice, gender discrimination and poverty. I saw that underneath all these social problems, the source of all life was being destroyed. The San Jose Mountains were almost totally obscured by smog; you couldn’t see six blocks away in L.A. Workers were shown on TV with tremors due to neurological damage sustained in chemical companies after they had been assured that the stuff was safe. Their wives stood next to them weeping because the husbands had been rendered sterile. The head of the Natural Resources Department for California had announced that in Redwood Park the tallest trees on the planet—some as tall as a football field is long—were in danger of falling due to erosion caused by the over-logging of adjacent private lands.

I and many others had brought these concerns to the attention of public officials, and were often met with condescending contempt. There was a war going on for Christsake! There was political upheaval! Money and jobs were in the balance. I felt that we humans were allowing the destruction of the land which had always given us life. I felt a personal responsibility for the air, trees, water and animals.

Q: Why, in particular, President Ford?

A: In a sense he came to me. I had been feeling and increasing urgency. This wasn’t something that came on without thought—or as was later implied—a drug-induced impulse, or mental illness, or on orders from Manson. This was in response to a spiritual calling which was beyond life and considerations of death. We had already appealed to the heads of environmental groups, corporate CEO’s, an Army Corp of Engineers and generals and several judges—to no avail. Who more logically next than the head of the country?

It wasn’t Gerald Ford as an individual that I was approaching with my request or threat—whichever was necessary—but the chain of command. The very evening that I returned from San Francisco after speaking with the general, I saw President Ford on TV, getting off the plane in Sacramento. His visit was to address about 2000 area businessmen about enhancing their economic opportunities. Basically he was beginning his 1976 campaign.

Ford had never before been elected. He had been chosen for the job by President Nixon in 1973 when the Vice President, Spiro Agnew, was forced to resign after criminal wrongdoing. Then, in 1974, Nixon had resigned the presidency, also after criminal wrongdoing, and Ford had been given that job.

Q: You were convicted of attempted assassination. Was that, in fact, what you were trying to do?

A: No it wasn’t. I took the gun with me but had not decided whether to use it. I was not philosophically opposed to physical force, and had I felt it was necessary, I was prepared to use it. I had decided to proceed by perception, and standing in the crowd as the President approached, I had a sense of the faith that the people as a whole invest in their leaders, and a sense of myself as simply a member of that greater body. I also knew that after an assassination, no one sees the issues or problems leading to that act. The whole focus is upon mourning, upon the martyrdom of the slain individual.

For safety reasons I HAD NOT PUT A BULLET INTO THE CHAMBER, BUT I KNEW HOW TO DO IT. Instead I simply stepped through the crowd to the President and raised the gun to his midsection between his heart and stomach at about two feet distance. I was quickly bowled over, and I experienced the panic of the Secret Service agents as they repeatedly dove for the weapon that had already been confiscated. I felt completely calm and relieved, but I realized that in order to cause the necessary change I would need to allow business people to believe that there were people everywhere willing to give their lives and take the lives of others, if necessary, for the life of the planet. It is 25 years later, and I am still satisfied that I did the right thing.

Q: What role, if any, did [Charles Manson] play in your decision or your action?

A: Manson is the most absolute environmentalist that I’ve ever witnessed, and he had told the women around him that the Earth came before us and anything else in his list of priorities. Blue [Sandra Good] and I had been doing everything we knew to obtain visiting rights with him and, at the same time, to find a way of getting a new trial that would exonerate him. He began exhorting us in letters to quit trying to make him a good guy, to understand that people want and need a bad guy, and to use his bad reputation for some good. He said we could use his name in whatever way would be effective for the protection of the Earth. We did. But Charlie did not plan or order or even conspire with us about our activities on behalf of ATWA. He just gave us faith to do what we believed was right.

"Assassins" P.R.

I was asked to write something about my process for possible p.r. for the show. Here's what I wrote (sorry if some of it is repetitive.)

I was thrilled to be cast in “Assassins” and immediately started doing research, reading books like “American Assassins: The Darker Side of Politics” and Jess Bravin’s terrific biography: “Squeaky: The Life And Times of Lynette Alice Fromme.” (Sorry, I can’t underline in my email, as those two titles should be.) But certain things I read in books and on the internet struck me as untrue somehow. Then I watched the amazing documentary “Manson” and saw tons of footage of Lynette that blew my mind: it’s amazing how lucid she seems, how passionate. The footage was taken when she was in her early 20s. With her beautiful red hair, her legs crossed like a lady, her clear ruddy complexion and her innocent eyes she proclaims, "You have to be ready [to use violence] right here right now right here!" She looks and sounds like wholesome Sandy Duncan at the same age. Next I expect her to sing, "Grey skies are gonna clear up: put on a happy face!" It’s scarily exhilarating to watch her, the way towards the end she cradles a snake like it’s a puppy and yet talks about how people should be like snakes, always ready to strike and kill. The way she talks about love I want to hug her: she giggles and smiles innocently, but then she’s holding a knife or a gun and fondling it with complete adoration and admiration, as if she’d like to make it part of her own body. I feel like I know her, and then she scares the crap out of me. I just don’t get the violence thing, maybe just because I know so little about it. I was so intrigued by her after watching the film that I felt I had to write to her, I wanted to hear her say why she did what she did, not someone else’s take on it. There is so much sweetness and light and hope and happiness in her, both in photos and even in recent clips from interviews with her, after years in jail. She talks so much about loving nature and saving the environment. Her crafts are beautiful and her smile bright. I wrote six letters before receiving a reply and have gotten two more since then. It is amazing to see the response some people have when I tell them I’m writing to Lynette; they get so freaked out. One of my friends said he didn’t even want to touch a letter from her because it was “creepy.” I talked to a cast member about her and he noted that I seem to grow increasingly fond of her. I agreed, full well knowing how sick it may seem to be fond of a woman who ordered others to kill people, and worshipped a madman. But don’t we as actors have to find empathy for the characters we play, try to understand where they’re coming from, and at least find PARTS of them we can love? I mean, I could’ve been her! I am more and more convinced the only reason I didn’t venture down her path of violence and hatred was because I have a loving and supportive mom and dad, while hers were a mouse and a monster… People forget that criminals are PEOPLE, not so different from the rest of us. I think what really scares people is realizing that we all have the potential to break the law, to do dangerous, scary things, to hurt others—we don’t want to admit it, but it’s true. When I was 18 (the age Lynette was when she met Charles Manson), I was very naïve, immature, curious and eager to please, to be accepted and make friends. I was like the poster child for the dangers of peer pressure; I did anything the “cool kids” were doing, just to try and be like them. I could’ve easily fallen into a life of crime and depravity had I not wanted to disappoint my parents. Lynette and even Manson were not so lucky. I’m not saying that the abuse they suffered excuses their actions, but it does explain a great deal. Anyway, the letters I have received from her confirmed my suspicions that she never tried to kill or even hurt anyone, she only wanted to scare people into paying attention to Manson and his environmental concerns. She wanted to show the government that there were people willing to risk their life to save the planet; all she ever really wanted people to do was stop polluting the earth and killing its animals. Just like all people, both law-abiding citizens and the other "Assassins" portrayed in the show, both the sane and insane, all she really wanted was to be heard and taken seriously.

2nd Letter from "Squeaky"

“Shannon-
No. Stationary for our use isn’t allowed through the mail. We have to buy or make it. (It’s too bad because I like your little cards). And we cannot receive money here. All incoming inmate funds come to us through a central processing place in Iowa which carries our computerized accounts. The address may be on line through gov. but I don’t know. Otherwise, I’d need to send it but because you are just getting a start in an expensive big city, I’d say you need what you have. Maybe you have lived in NY for years. My father grew up in Brooklyn but he didn’t strike me as a typical New Yorker (if any types exist).
Every six months here, we must move to a different room. Security reasons. (Not our security of course.) It’s not what most of us want but it has a wake-up aspect to it. We made a move yesterday, so I’m just getting back to normal, but I wanted to answer your letters so that you wouldn’t send anything else I couldn’t have. If you sent stationary, I didn’t get it. It’s probably still in the mail room and has been set to the side along with whatever other inmate letters contained what’s called “nuisance contraband.” They don’t toss it out; they are required to send it back to you but whatever you’ve written also gets held and we may not receive it for weeks. I did get your picture letter  -both are good. I can get any type of photo except Polaroids (and porn- no nudity either) and 8x10 is the largest, although I wouldn’t ask for photos that big. We’re working w/small spaces here. I’d be glad to get photos of Blue and me and any of you and your world that you’d like to send. (I can’t own more than 25 loose photos.) The rules are picky and pecky specks that are hard to keep up with let alone remember to relate to correspondents. I need sleep now so I’ll resume this letter…”
Page 2:
“I ran across these definitions, word origins and found them worth sending ~ especially the one re: St. Audrey. Also enclosed is part or a print out re: Owen and Mzee explained in the text. Two pages of an interview of me I liked ~ done by an independent.”

(I will post all 3 at a later date- no time now, sorry folks ;)

“No one calls me Squeaky. Friends don’t anyway. Periodically someone will call me that, thinking they are on familiar terms with me but really just tipping me off that they have read about me and probably assume that they know a great deal more than they do. About my life.
I go by Lynette in here; I went by Lyn til 1968. The 83 year old blind owner of the [Spahn] ranch we lived on began calling me Squeaky when I struck up regular visits with him. He renamed almost every living thing on that ranch. He was NOT a country fellow and not shabbily dressed and not a lecher.
I’m too sleepy to continue.
Until next time,
Lynette”

And then the p.s. that made me gasp and freeze for a moment:

“P.S.- I took the bullet out of the chamber before my walk to the park.”

More to come…

Writing more...

Dear Lyn,

I just mailed you a letter this morning but I had to write you again tonight. I have so many questions! But please, tell me if I ask anything you don’t want to answer- I don’t mean to pry. I just am so curious about you and your life. As I’ve said before I feel like we have so much in common…

First, do you prefer being called Lyn, Lynette, Red or Squeaky? Do you dislike being called any of those?

In your first letter, you said Bravin makes some untrue assumptions about Manson. May I ask what? Are you still in touch with Manson? Sandy? Your family?

I know I can’t send you magazines or clippings, but can I send you stationary? Pictures? I found a few old pictures of you and Sandy- you two look so beautiful together… whoever took the pictures did a wonderful job. Would you like me to send them to you?

Do you have any regrets? I bet you don’t.

I know you probably don’t want to talk about this, or can’t or shouldn’t, so feel free not to answer if you don’t want to, I will completely understand, but I have to ask: you did purposefully leave the bullet out of the chamber when you went to see “president” Ford, didn’t you? You didn’t really want to kill him, just get his attention, right?

I so look forward to hearing from you again, and sincerely hope you will continue to write me.

Writing Back

Dear Lynette,
I cannot tell you how happy I was to get your letter- I was beginning to fear I wouldn’t hear back from you! I had no patience for handwriting today, I had to type, because I type so much faster than I write. First let me say that while you may think the play makes you look like a fool I CERTAINLY DO NOT THINK YOU ARE A FOOL AT ALL. And I will do my best to portray you as anything but.
I think you are right, I think Bravin wanted to do anything but trash you, I think he truly admired your ability to love and the way you see the world. I think he was trying to show how misunderstood you were, and I want to do the same.
I’m glad to hear that Rachel had it all wrong about you. She was so young when she knew you anyway, what do any of us really understand at that age? We find people to look up to, rarely knowing who they really are.
It’s amazing how people think that just because a woman is joyful, loving, sensitive, and positive, seeing the good in things and in nature, and even in others that somehow that makes her weak. I think it is the opposite. I think it takes amazing strength and courage to love and see the beauty in the world when there is so much hate and ugliness too. Without love this world would not have survived all that has happened in the past decade… and I certainly would not have. And I have to tell you, I love learning about you and playing you. Forget the dialogue for a moment, I think the song is truly beautiful and fills me with such emotion I sometimes tremble when singing it, and one time I felt like I pulled a muscle in my stomach, I felt the love and the desperation so strongly.
I will write more soon. Can I send you stationary? Did they let you keep the paper and envelopes I sent you? I would really love to get many more letters from you if you would consider writing to me more…