POCO SYNCHRO and a True IRL PSYCHO: Ted Bundy, Ghost of Near-Miss Past - Entry 4.1: 1/4/2018 By: Michael Wolfson and Janet Kadoe

POCO SYNCHRO and a True IRL PSYCHO: Ted Bundy, Ghost of Near-Miss Past - Entry 4.1: 1/4/2018 By: Michael Wolfson and Janet Kadoe Janet: You actually met Ted Bundy, mass murderer of women?! You never told me that!! And now you want to write a Psycho Synchro article?!! Wow! Publish that and you might just lose a female friend or two on Facebook. Mike: Its ok, Janet. I give my women friends credit for their ability to understand subtlety and nuance. I am not even guilty by association. Besides, the world does need our insight (Ha!). And the connections among events mandate our publication. J: So, what kind of circle did you run around with back then? M: He was not in my circle of friends. Just a very brief encounter. J: Ok, I will exonerate you. But who cares about any of this, then? A paper about a long gone wacko and another near miss/chance encounter from your past! M: The tale is in the coincidence that happened decades later. [The remainder of the dialogue and text as bracketed { } may be safely ignored by readers who have not read the earlier articles in this series: Entries 1 though 3.007.] { J: So the earlier events matter naught? M: No, they are fine but the connections are the icing to the cake, the meat to the potatoes, the focus of the float and flow, if you will. J: Complementary angels? M: You are the angel and the ghost of near-miss past, to give you a compliment or two, Janet. J: Don’t you mean complementary angles? Another two fold truth to add to your prior articles? M: Now you see it and I. Kan’t. J: Mobius meets Mozart! M: Technically, Mobius meets Mozart’s Mirror! } J: I think I am beginning to understand you, and that is as scary as trying to understand myself. M+J: Greetings again to those who find it entertaining to explore links past and present among disparate and de-spirited events connected, at best, by eerie ephemera. Despite the lightness of presentation, the events in this and prior entries are not imaginary. This one is a personal story of Michael Wolfson, and not the newly “rediscovered” co-author, Janet. As such, first person pronouns are here used throughout to emphasize that these are my stories, not hers. Fortunately, Janet has honored me with her willingness to coauthor here despite the necessity of grappling with what we perceive to be a very dark force of personality and personhood from decades ago. Janet is a good friend that I knew decades prior (post-Bundy period) in Palo Alto, CA and she has now resurfaced from among my many wonderful friends both on and off the net. She has reestablished contact in her inimitable fashion via email communication and otherwise reviewing a few long ago memories, while secretly working behind the scenes to fully confirm my ID (and sanity to boot!). I think she has finally concluded that I do not reside in a prison or psych ward, not that I believe she really cares too much other than by reason of her concern for my well-being. Her focus is wonderfully 21st Century (e.g. What, no web cam? Something must be afoot!) She is as thorough as the FBI lady in the Criminal Minds TV show. It is actually quite impressive, a “spy” for the age of the (what a drag-) net. {Bond meets Bundy on the AutoBahn and then over the cliff, right Hitch?} Still, a few more good words for her. Of course, what she knew about Bundy is what everyone else knows. Mr. Dark was an evil incarnate. But her literary sensibilities are an inspiration, a brilliant assist to effective expression. A catalyst to a more superior writing style (too bad, she was not around from the beginning) and a clever contributor to creative links among thoughts and ideas. She is the focus to the flow and float of multiple, nearly incoherent and ill-defined thoughts. Her contribution here is immense, although there is much behind the context as shown. {Sotto voce and sub silentio, once again!} Fortunately, I can have my old friend from faraway (time and distance) help without having to worry about a wink or a word that might be considered as some form of harassment in the somewhat toxic climate that US culture has now found itself and without our first negotiating and signing a pre-flirt agreement with separate lawyers and full disclosure. She is involved as am I, so our connection will be perpetually and purely platonic, thank providence! While Janet was among my circle of good friends in the past, Ted Bundy was not. My chance encounter with this then-unknown Darth Vader was brief and casual, 5 to 10 minutes max. Surely, it is not unusual to have a chance encounter with a notable person, subsequently recognized. After all, this force of evil had, in all appearances, the look of Joe Average, model law student. Athletic and a bit intense, yes, but with the charm of a Reagan or an Elvis. What is unusual is the bizarrely coincidental events that transpired years later. You will see! Please do remember that the events herein described belong to me alone, not Janet. Although a person in real life, she is, at present, the “ghost writer” in the shadows, the ghost of “near-miss” past for me bearing a gift that not even a Medicaid administrator could dare challenge as having other than a quasi-virtual bitty coin value. {And, as you will see in Entry 5.1, coming to your screen soon, the lunacy in that leg(er)(al)- d(o)(er)main is even more legendary!} I will, though, remit to my penpal, Janet, a paypal pittance, as token of a new (and old) found friendship {from the days of Auld Lang Z(S)ynch. Thanks, Ed for the in-joke}. I believe I met Bundy shortly before he achieved worldwide infamy, but this belief took some time to fully gel. I had just entered the first floor Men’s Room at the law school library on the University of Colorado campus in Boulder, Colorado sometime around April, 1975. In walks a somewhat tall, well groomed, dark haired, athletic gentleman, neatly dressed and having a jacket with turtle neck sweater. His comments to me in approximate order were: “You go to law school? Me too at (he stated an unremembered name of a University that I do now know to be a major law school west of Colorado). I am taking a “break” for now and will return next fall. What kinda lawyer are you looking to become? I plan to practice Criminal law. I used to work for (he stated unremembered names of lesser politicians).” There were a few other pleasantries exchanged about how difficult law school was, etc. I mentioned that I was not sure that I would be any good at Criminal law practice. We left the lavatory and had a brief additional conversation in the hall and then he left toward the exit, never to be seen afterwards. Sometime later, I first saw his picture in the paper, now a crime suspect. Bearded and a tad disheveled, I made absolutely no connection to the person I had earlier encountered. Years afterward, I heard about the politicians Bundy had worked for, that he wore a turtleneck to hide a birthmark, that he chose to serve as his own counsel at his criminal trial (typically, one who represents himself has a fool for a client), that he was connected with several murders in Colorado in the spring of 1975, that he had attended the University of Utah law school, and was known to haunt university areas looking for potential victims. My memory was stirred. His general appearance matched. I have studied and compared his face, ad nauseam, wondering. My memory for faces is, unfortunately, quite average, but my memory of voices, conversations and associations is excellent, if not exceptional. I had, after all, around that time, committed to memory the entire Chaconne for Partita No 2 by JS Bach as well as the Bach Fugue from the first Violin Partita BVW1000, both for classical guitar, in a brief afternoon- 17 pages of myriad associations in the form of visual music on the page, tactile and kinesthetic finger movements, repeated chord structures, remembered sounds, etc. As to my memory of voices, Janet believes it is impossible to have a memory of the voice of the nurse at the time of a child’s delivery, but my PHD biology friend admits that, while highly unlikely, it is possible. Even the words can be registered for later understanding. (I insist that the nurse said “Be quiet or you won’t get to see your mother”.) Reconstructed memory? Perhaps. Part of why I think it must have been Bundy is that, unlike some graduate education, most law students attend directly after completing their undergrad education. This person did not, one reason I remembered the conversation. Another reason had to do with the mental note I made when he mentioned the name of the law school he attended. I had, at the time, a book that published a grid for each school with the gpa averages and lsat scores for applicants as well as those admitted and the corresponding numbers that fit each grid cell. I had intended to look up his school in that grid. I am certain it was a school west of Colorado and probably a state school, since its location immediately registered in my mind. And, I know for certain that it was not Stanford or Berkeley. Looking over the list of possibles, only a few others seem to fit. I do realize that several of the Bundy related cases are technically still opened as cold cases in Colorado and I am more than willing to talk to anyone about the encounter, but I think what I have to say has virtually no probative value, since I am not even certain of identification or the precise timing. This was many years ago. There was also ample other evidence placing him nearby at the time, including gas receipts from stolen credit cards. I do realize that closure for victims’ families is always a consideration, and I really wish that I could help. I just am highly skeptical that I have anything of any value to contribute. Of course, I do think an expense paid trip to Colorado would be fun, although I would prefer skiing to sitting in the office of an interviewer. My hometown is the place to talk! And I will, if anyone wants to listen. So I met Bundy, probably. Where is the Synchro?, you ask. Therein lies the real tale {tail}. The whole point of this story is not the fact of meeting the psycho, but in what happened in the years since. Whether I did actually have this encounter with Bundy and not some other law student, the fact that I firmly believe that I did is what really matters. This belief, nurtured over decades, led to a full week period of virtual obsession in 2012 driven by the notion that I could myself, via investigative exuberance, find definitive answers with net research on timeline details, maps, photos, and records of his travel revealed online in the stolen credit card receipts for gas purchases that he had made, etc. I also struggled with whether the long ago events I had remembered were somehow invented in my mind over the years. This finally culminated in an extremely coincidental event. After all that effort, I finally found myself at a family Thanksgiving dinner. My mother handed to me the Nov/Dec 2012 issue of the Stanford Alumni Association magazine which I had had routinely delivered to her house. Glancing through it, I came to an article entitled “How the truth gets twisted” and subtitled “When memory plays tricks” written by Ann Marsh and Greta Lorge and about psychologist Elizabeth Loftus, expert witness on reconstructed memories at Ted Bundy’s murder trial. Much ado about Bundy in the article. It was replete as well with gems on how “false” or “recreated” memories may evolve over time in such a manner that the person holding the memories will swear to their correctness. Before, I was exhausted. Now, I was floored. Flummoxed and forever flabber-ghosted! Copyright 1/4/18 Michael Wolfson email: mwolfson@stanfordalumni.org
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Date submitted:Tue, 09 Jan 2018 20:00:06 +0000Coincidence ID:9730