In August of 1969, Daniel Edward was working as a machinist at an United Airlines maintenance base north of San Francisco Airport. He met a man named Bob Greeley at his future father-in-law’s home. He later found out they worked right across the hall from each other. After they became acquainted, my grandfather was invited on a road trip to Los Angeles to pick up some of Bob’s things. My grandfather, who wanted to see what SoCal was like in August, thought, “what the hell, I’ve got nothing else to do anyway,” not quite realizing the mess he was walking into.
Bob Greeley and his accomplice Daniel, my grandfather, made the six hour drive to L.A., and after collecting Bob’s stuff, they went sightseeing a bit before heading back. On the way out of L.A., in the evening, they were stopped at a light in Bob’s white Triumph sports car. Bob driving, and my grandfather in the passenger seat, they began the six hour journey back home.
I find it appropriate to mention that this was August 9th 1969, the day after Sharon Tate and four others were killed at her Hollywood residence, five if you count her unborn baby of eight months. News of the murders were flying all around the local, national, and international news sources. The city was on high alert the next day, as expected. Unfortunately, they were none the wiser.
As the visit to L.A. came to an end, they began to leave when they were stopped at a red light somewhere along Hollywood Blvd if my grandfather’s memory serves. As they waited for the light to turn green, another car approached behind them. After a minute, a man, who was later identified as Tex Watson, exited the vehicle and proceeded towards my grandfather’s rental car. He didn’t think much of it at first, but as he came closer my grandfather grew more curious. It took longer than it should have for my grandfather to realize this man was carrying a revolver. They became fearful – someone was coming towards them with murderous intent.
As this happened, the light turned green, and they made the logical move of speeding away from the murderous man of Hollywood Blvd. As my grandfather explains, they never thought much of the incident after that evening. I would imagine the timing would make them both wonder if it was one of the Mansons. Nevertheless, while Daniel Edward and Bob Greeley suffered a legitimate near-death experience, they lost track of each other, so much that when I interviewed my grandfather about it, he could barely remember Bob’s last name. He proceeded to move on with his life until he read the book Helter Skelter about six years later. The epilogue gave specific bits and pieces about how the day after the Tate murders, Tex Watson had pulled behind a white sports car on Hollywood Boulevard with the intention of killing the people inside. He broke into a cold sweat knowing he had only just escaped the clutches of death.Over the years, almost everyone in Hollywood has come forward saying that it had been them and they fled the situation never knowing what they were involved in. Public figures including American Basketball player, Jerry West, who was driving a white Ferrari at the time (wrong car according to Helter Skelter) claimed he was the one involved. As soon as my grandfather read this, his blood turned cold, with absolute certainty that it was them, and trying to process the fact they had come that close to a member of the Manson family. If I never have before, I now believe that one moment can change the course of a lifetime.
