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Making Room Ch. 5: A Sinister Encounter with the Manson Family
In 1975 I was a legal researcher for Sacramento Superior Court. Twenty-five years old. One year before the Bar.
The docket list sat on the file cabinet. Charles Manson had filed a writ of habeas corpus from Folsom State Prison. The research was straightforward. No legal basis. I wrote my memo, filed it, moved to the next case.
Two miles from the courthouse, Lynette “Squeaky” Fromme and Sandra Good were living in Sacramento. They’d chosen it for proximity to Folsom. To Manson. I didn’t know.
It was early July. A hot evening. I lived with my wife and our cat Purrl in a fourplex. Bottom floor.
I had just driven back from my dad’s house nearby. Blood was dripped along the walkway to our front door. On the handle. On the lock.
When I’d left earlier, four people had been across the street. Watching.
I drove right back to my dad’s house. Retrieved my hunting shotgun from his closet. Ithaca 20-gauge pump. Three shells. I didn’t tell anyone at the court. The shotgun stayed near our bed.
My wife said, “They killed seven people.”
“I know.”
“They cut a baby out of Sharon Tate.”
“I know.”
“And you signed up for his case.”
“Yes.”
That night she checked the locks. The windows. The back door. The shotgun stayed on my side.
Late July. Two women in faded cotton dresses, wrinkled, shapeless. Not from our office. They were going through our files. Looking for the Manson materials. Our research. Our memos. Our communications with the court.
They had a story about authorization. About clearance to review court records. Not authorized.
“You need to leave,” I said.
“Now.”
They left. But they’d been there. In our files. They had our names.
Two months later on September 5th. Squeaky Fromme. President Ford. Capitol Park. Two miles from my courthouse.
She pulled a Colt .45. Pointed it at him. Secret Service grabbed it before she could fire.
At her trial, evidence: Manson family meetings in Sacramento that July. Surveillance of people they thought threatened Manson’s release. Plans for violence. The people who’d watched me. Left blood on my door. Searched our files. Organized.
Seven murders behind them. More planned. By the time I understood what I’d been dealing with, too late.
Fromme got life. Manson’s petition was denied.
The courage isn’t mine to generate. It’s received—the same help I’d made room for at six.
Courage is part of duty. Duty doesn’t wait for fear to pass.
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Michael Hackard is the founder of Hackard Law, a California trust and estate litigation firm with more than five decades of experience protecting the inheritance rights of families across Sacramento, the San Francisco Bay Area, and Los Angeles. He is the author of six published books on inheritance protection and has produced more than 1,000 educational videos with over seven million views.