Hollywood & Crime: When Dennis Wilson Met Charles Manson

We will never stop talking about the Manson murders. The case encapsulates so much about the era and our collective obsession with true crime. It was a strange brew of celebrity, drugs, cults, control, sex, money, and the apocalypse, and it hasn’t gotten any less fascinating in the decades that followed. It was the death knell of the 1960s. Nobody was surprised, as Joan Didion famously wrote.

I’m going to assume you know the basics of the story: a short loser racist named Charles Manson led a commune-turned-cult of young and drugged-up hippies, and when his dreams of becoming a rock-star were dashed, he sent his Family into the Hollywood hills to kill people, including the actress Sharon Tate and her unborn son. Some of the perpetrators are still behind bars, and almost every person associated with Manson has condemned him and expressed guilt over their crimes.

Manson died in 2017, having spent his years in prison exploiting his infamy to create an image of himself as a satanic figure of unimpeachable evil. Unfortunately, he outlived so many of the people whose lives his crimes impacted, and he became an even bigger star thanks to media meddling that blew his reputation wildly out of proportion. What is less talked about is how ingrained in the Hollywood machine of the era he was, and how his grand plans for chaos were mostly his petty reaction to being kicked out of the cool kids’ party. A few big names are forever entwined in Manson mythos, and their legacies are haunted by his crimes to this day.

There weren't that many actual beach boys in the Beach Boys. The legendary band that birthed some of the greatest music of the 20th century was partly the brain-child of an abusive father who forced his three sons to be a vessel for his own unfulfilled dreams. Dennis, brother to Brian and Carl, was the only one of the three who loved surfing, the great outdoors, and that California beach lifestyle. All of the Wilson brothers had their troubles, in large part because their dad, Murry, was a thug, and Dennis found that keeping busy kept him from spiralling. Said Brian in 1966, "Dennis had to keep moving all the time. If you wanted him to sit still for one second, he's yelling and screaming and ranting and raving. He's the most messed-up person I know."

Dennis wasn’t given many chances to contribute creatively to the band. As the drummer, he was often sidelined in favour of studio musicians, although not to the extent that some critics claimed. He wasn’t as creatively driven as Brian, although few people were, and he wasn’t as craven about commercial success as Mike Love, although, again, who is? As the ‘60s came to an end, the band was in freefall due to the changing times, which had little room for the Beach Boys sound. Pet Sounds, one of the greatest albums ever, did not perform well at the time. Brian’s mental health faltered.

Dennis needed direction, which he thought he’d found with the Maharishi Mahesh Yogi, the notorious creator of Transcendental Meditation and New Age guru who achieved fame through his association with celebrities like The Beatles. The Maharishi even went on tour with the Beach Boys as their opening act in 1968. It was a disaster. Imagine going to a concert and then having to listen to some guy lecture you on medication for an hour. This is why so many people skip the support acts.

On April 6, 1968, Wilson was driving through Malibu when he decided to pick up two hitchhikers. Their names were Ella Jo Bailey and Patricia Krenwinkel. The first time he saw them, he dropped them off at their destination. The second time, he brought the young women back to his house on Sunset Boulevard. He served them milk and cookies (no, really), then talked to them about the Maharishi. The girls told him that they, too, had a spiritual guru they were devoted to, and he had changed their lives. Dennis was intrigued.

Bailey and Krenwinkel told Manson about the rockstar whose house they hung out at, and he was immediately hungry to meet Wilson. Manson controlled much of his Family’s lives, particularly the pop culture they consumed. Spahn Ranch, the rickety old West movie set they lived on, didn’t have power for TV or a radio. They didn’t go to the movies. The records they listened to were chosen by Charlie, and that mostly meant The Beatles, who he claimed were sending them messages to start a race war through the lyrics of The White Album. There’s a chance that a lot of these 19-year-old runaways didn’t know who Dennis Wilson was, but Charlie did. He wanted to be a rockstar.