At 4:00, I met with Carla Rueckert at her house to sit in on her meditation group's meeting. I very much looked forward meeting Carla, as I was very impressed by her unique thinking and intelligence when I interviewed her back in December. Books on a variety of spiritual topics lined the walls of the lovely home, along with mystical artifacts, crystal pyramids, and tribal masks/heads. The sweet smell of burning incense permeated the homestead. Jim McCarty, Carla's husband, led me to the living room to see Carla.

In my mind's eye, I had an image of Carla based solely on her appearance in Invasion of the Girl Snatchers. My concept of Carla included her playfully romping around fields with a cheap blonde wig and frantically blocking out shots (while topless) in between takes of the film.

You can imagine the sadness I felt to see that acute arthritis limited her activity and left Carla in pain. She was still cute and perky with a Laurie Anderson-ish haircut, but the wheelchair resting near her bed made me sad. She had recently undergone some surgery on her feet, which was curtailing her mobility. I would have had a hard time reconciling my own vibrant mental picture of Carla circa 1973 were it not for Carla's enthusiastic, freethinking nature.

She welcomed me warmly. As we waited for her group to assemble, we talked a little about the upcoming Invasion of the Girl Snatchers deluxe DVD release, which I learned about a few days prior to my Louisville trip. She seemed pleased with the notion of providing commentary. She also invited me to a UFO conference at which she would be lecturing in March.

Once the small group was in place, everyone was given a chance to discuss their past week from any vantage point they elected - be it spiritual or emotional. When it was Carla's turn to speak, she explained how she had been contacted by an entrepreneur who admired her L & L Research work and wished to adapt her first book, "The Crucifixion of Esmerelda Sweetwater," to the big screen. A young director type had also contacted Carla via the WG.com interview, so she hoped to combine their interests. She seemed very pleased with the new prospects, and I was happy that the site was providing opportunities to those gracious enough to contribute.

The meeting led into a silent meditation period, some prayer, then singing. I'd tried to get a handle on Carla's spiritual beliefs when I first interviewed her. To me, her tenet combines Christianity with New Age philosophies, the paranormal, and some Eastern religions. I still can't say I completely understand her belief system, but whatever it is, it's positive and peaceful and I was happy I'd been allowed to observe. The group adjourned around 6:30. I excused myself from the follow-up dinner so I could meet up with Lynne Kelly again.

I made a quick stop at my motel room to grab copies of Zebra Killer and Abby, then jetted over to Lynne's house. As with the previous night, I felt completely at ease in Lynne's company. She handed me the photo prints she had made up-three in total. One depicted Billy standing by a film projector, while the other two were from his youth.

She led me to her basement to show me the telecom business she runs from her house. She asked me to fuss with a computer she was preparing for a Windows 2000 upgrade, and I cheerily agreed. There was something pleasantly surreal about providing computer maintenance service for Billy Girdler's sister. She and I gabbed about a variety of current topics as I played around. Later, we relaxed in her living room. I asked her about the Abby cast party Carol Speed described. I'd long suspected that the grand mansion Carol related was in fact Billy's childhood home. It turns out that Lynne was charged with throwing the bash, and she gushed about how much she loved Juanita Moore. "A really fun lady," Lynne beamed. From her statements, I'd guess that the Abby cast party with Juanita Moore was Lynne's fondest memory from the Louisville movie days. Lynne said she and Juanita stuck up a friendship from the party, and that Lynne even met with Juanita in California many years after the film wrapped.

It was 12:30 when I finally left Lynne's. She said that the next time I visited Louisville, she'd pull out a heap of audio recordings Billy made during his movie days. She also asked that I find Juanita Moore so she could touch base, and I promised I'd try my best.

I realized as I drove back to my motel that I hadn't eaten all day Sunday. I stopped at a mini-mart but couldn't find anything worthwhile. I laughed to myself at how Craig seemed intent on showing me a side of Louisville classier than The Waffle House, yet there I was foraging for hot dogs on a Sunday night.

In my motel room, I scrawled my notes for the day in front of a fully stacked television. Basking in the long-missed glow of cable TV, I watched William Castle's original 13 Ghosts as I wrote. I later showered and prepared personal notes for the meeting slated for Monday morning. I eventually called it a day around 4:00 AM.

Monday, January 28
I found it hard to sleep with all the Girdler info sloshing around in my head, so I was awake by 7:00 am that morning. Craig picked me up after 9:00 and drove me to Focal Point headquarters. It was an unnaturally warm January day that felt almost like Spring. We were seated in the conference room. From about 10:00 to 1:30, we hashed over ideas for the budget, the shooting schedule, how we'd tie the documentary into the newly-announced DVD releases, the look and feel of the product, etc. I liked Rick's professional, no-nonsense sensibilities as well as his enthusiasm for the subject matter. Seeing how I had three days of Girdler adventuring charging my thoughts, I babbled ceaselessly about Billy's riveting life story, perhaps to an annoying degree. Rick was patient and laid out a suitable plan of attack that I liked a good bit.

Rick and Craig took me to another cool joint for lunch, where we continued our Girdler brainstorming. The meeting wrapped around 3:30, at which time I returned to my motel room. I phoned Billy's son Brent, who said I could drop by Avis Girdler's (Billy's second wife) home around 7. Then I called Claude Fulkerson. Claude, of course, played the smarmy orderly in Asylum of Satan, as well as the "mystery white man" in Abby. Claude is a celebrated media personality in the Louisville area and had offered to take me to lunch while I was in town. We decided to head out for coffee instead.

I immediately recognized Claude when he pulled into the motel parking lot. Save his white hair, he looked almost exactly the same as he did thirty years ago. His energy was infectious. He told me how he very much enjoyed my extended Asylum of Satan summary. "It made me laugh out loud. It was better than the movie!"

Over coffee, I asked Claude about his Girdler days. Claude acted in many early Studio One commercials, which was how he landed the role in Asylum of Satan. "If Billy had lived, I would be famous today," offered Claude. "He always brought his friends with him." Claude described Billy as being friendly, energetic, down to earth, and completely focused on making movies. Claude related the story of how Billy tossed him down a steep elevator shaft with little protection. Claude claimed the scene did not appear in the original screenplay. Billy added it after he had a dream of being pushed down an elevator shaft. Like Lynne, Claude figured Billy would enlist the talents of the Hollywood crew to shoot the scene, but found himself dangling over the shaft in the end.

We talked about Carla Borelli and the infamous late Nick Jolley. "I don't know where Billy picked up that piece of work," Claude stated with a smile. He seemed to think Jolley worked with the same casting agency that represented Carla Borelli. He told me about a virgin examination scene that was cut from the film, in which the evil Dr. Specter lasciviously probed Carla. According to Claude, Charlie Kissinger was uncomfortable with the scene and his stiff, nervous performance was unfit for the final cut.

I asked Claude about his role in Abby as the mystery white man. That scene always stood out to me since it's never revealed what happened to the lone white man who sneaks away with the possessed diva to enjoy carnal pleasures. Claude said there was no additional material written for the scene, and he, too, often wondered what fate befell the mystery white man.

Claude told me a little about a screenplay/book he's working on - a comedy/drama set during the Civil War. He had to leave to meet an appointment and I had to drive out to Avis' house within the hour, so he dropped me off at my motel room. I gave him a tape of Asylum of Satan so he could view the movie again (he hadn't seen it since its debut). I also promised to mail him a copy of Abby.

I fought back waves of apprehension as I made my way to Avis' home. I phoned Brent Girdler a few months ago, and while he was congenial on the phone, I found the experience to be a mite uncomfortable - mainly due to my own nervousness. I hoped I'd be cooler and more articulate this time around. I knew Avis (a successful photographer) had suspicions regarding my motivations and the goals for the website. I also knew that the subject matter - her late husband - was still a pain point for her.

Brent greeted me at the front door. He shook my hand. For the next three hours, I struggled not to stare at him like I was a gaping idiot. Save his red hair, he looked just like Billy. His eyes, his face, and his smile were all mirror images of the photographs of Billy Sr. I'd seen.

Avis came in right behind me, and the three of us sat down in her living room to talk. Avis had taken a look at the site proper for the first time earlier that day. She reiterated that the subject matter still struck a raw nerve and that it was difficult to relive that period via a website. She took issue with the notion that Billy thought he'd die at 30. She didn't deny he made such statements, but she thought they were more indicative of dramatic salesmanship than anything else. She didn't want it to appear as if Billy had a death wish. Avis also didn't think it was accurate to compare Billy's work with that of Ed Wood, seeing how Billy's low-budget pictures were designed to be a means to an end and he was moving toward greener pastures at the time of his passing.

Avis recounted that "Billy was broke when I got him," and that she met her future husband by way of his son Brent (she taught Brent horseback riding). They were together for just under three years and married for roughly six months. In that time, she helped Billy stabilize financially and grow out his movie ambitions. She was at Billy's side from Grizzly through The Manitou. Of those movies, Avis believed Grizzly was Billy's crowning achievement, a judgement based on what Billy was able to do with the small sum of money provided. She said that The Manitou was hard for her to watch because she knew it didn't come together as Billy originally intended. The final scene was not what he had initially envisioned and it was hastily edited together after his death.

Avis went on to explain that had Billy lived, she thought he'd enjoy the action genre of the 80s, with Raiders of the Lost Ark, The Terminator, etc. She thought his talents were ripe for television. She also revealed that Billy was a huge fan of the original Star Trek (which I always wondered about in respect to Gary Lockwood and Michael Ansara). Brent offered that Billy once considered filming the script to Rollerball and that Brent had inherited the copy of the script. Avis pulled out a huge shooting script/scene planner for The Manitou that made my jaw drop. The detailed package laid out every scene, camera angle, line of dialogue etc. A far cry from the handful of pages that set Three on a Meathook into motion.

From there we talked a bit about the films, the unscrupulous practices of Ed Montoro, the upcoming DVDs, and the direction of the documentary. We discussed Billy and his films for roughly three hours. When it was finally time to leave, Brent said he'd talk to his mother Barbara about meeting with me the next time I was in town. Avis, too, said she now felt comfortable about participating in a formal interview for the website, and said she'd dig up some of the many photographs she has from that period. I know I left Avis' house feeling far less nervous or awkward than I did when I arrived.

I drove by Shawn's house to see Craig before calling it a night. I thanked Craig profusely for bringing me to Louisville, and gave him a loose, generalized rundown of the people I met and things I'd learned during the trip. We both expressed our high hopes for the success of the documentary. After gabbing with Craig for a spell, I tried to touch base with Tobin, but he was out gallivanting for the night. I grabbed a quick dinner and retired to my motel room around 1:00 am. Again, I pored through my notes into the wee hours, penned some new notes, packed my things for the return trip, and eventually fell asleep in the early morning hours.

Tuesday, January 29
It was Claude who actually woke me up - mere seconds before my alarm went off. He wanted my home mailing address so he could send me the screenplay he's working on. Tobin called a few moments after that, at which time I gently berated him for not being around the previous night for another two-man "wrap party." Craig was at my door a half-hour later to drop me off at the airport. We toyed with grabbing breakfast before heading to the airport, but since my last Louisville departure turned out to be a close shave, I thought it best to just dump me off at the airport with plenty of time to spare.

And what a fortuitous decision that turned out to be! I ended up standing in line by myself for nearly twenty minutes while a woman argued with a ticket counter person about her seating arrangements on another flight. Odder still, it was the same ticket counter associate who almost caused me to miss my flight two years ago!!

When I was finally granted a chance to check-in, the man behind the counter said something that struck me as quite peculiar. "You look like a movie star, ma'am." Now personally, I thought I looked tired, frumpy, and rundown during the entire journey. But what an eerie choice of words.

From there, I hopped over to the security checkpoint. My bag and purse were x-rayed, opened, examined, and then dusted for explosive residue. I myself was asked to take off my coat, then I was scanned and patted. THEN I was escorted to another area where a guard asked me to remove my shoes so they could be examined and tested for explosive residue. The odd thing was: the security people were only inflicting this thorough examination procedure on female passengers, while male passengers just waltzed right through the checkpoint unmolested. So either the security guys all had foot fetishes, or they were instructed to look for potential female terrorists.

I made it to the gate with about 15 minutes to spare before boarding, which wasn't very much time considering how early I arrived. Again, I had a swank window seat, but the day was overcast and didn't provide the fine view I enjoyed during the flight to Louisville. As the plane took off, my thoughts shifted to the things I *didn't* do while in Girdlerville. I didn't visit his grave at Cave Hill. I didn't meet with Billy's mother. I again failed to find the Abby church. I didn't utilize my digital camera as completely as I should have. I shook off the guilt once the plane reached cruising altitude and returned to scribbling in my notebook. Provided the documentary goes as planned, I'll have plenty of time for further Girdler adventures, and hopefully those adventures will come sooner rather than later.

END (for now)