I didn't realize I had avoided watching the sensational Lana Clarkson
-- Phil Spector trial until I went to a friend's for dinner. I sat next
to Dominick Dunne -- the renowned journalist -- and remembered why I had
avoided it: I had been a friend and acting classmate of his
extraordinary daughter Dominique, and had been deeply affected by her
death. She was murdered at the hands of a man who had a history of
abusing women. In broad daylight, he walked from the restaurant where
he worked to her house, dragged her into the front yard and strangled
her until she was brain dead. At age 22 she had already starred in
movies and on television, and was on the road to what should have been
a long career and a wonderful life.
The last time I saw Dominique, she was shooting an episode of L.A.
Law, playing the role of an abused woman. She came to visit me while
I was working on the set of St. Elsewhere. I was shocked to see her
covered in bruises, but she told me about her role -- that it was just
make-up. But she wasn't herself. I told her I wanted to get together
but she said she was in hiding, changing houses every night.
Now this wasn't a role -- I was getting more upset. What was going on?
Was her boyfriend hurting her? Did she want to stay with me? She said
she couldn't talk about it now but she'd broken it off with her
boyfriend and would call me when she was safe. I never saw her again.
Dominick told me the worst part of the trial was how the defense
attorneys tried to make Lana's life into a failure, showing clips of
her small roles and her one -- woman show about being a B-movie actress.
My girlfriend told me that many women she knew had criticized Lana for
going with Spector that night. I asked her if any of these women were
in show business. She said no, realizing, as did I, that they had no
sympathy for her because they didn't understand her situation.
But the actress in me understood why she went with Spector and so did
my friend. Even though the guy looks like the Mad Hatter, I found
myself saying "It could have been any one of us at a similar point in
our lives". And my friend agreed. She had been an actress herself and
understood the pressure to survive in the face of countless rejections
until that big break came along in the form of someone who might
recognize your talent and give you an opportunity.
The day after the dinner party, the news showed clips from the trial.
The prosecution showed a hopeful young woman pursuing her dream of
being an actress, while the defense portrayed her as such a depressed
failure that she killed herself. I watched the clips and was moved by
the indefatigable spirit of Lana. Her sweetness, her hope and her
talent came through.
In his closing argument, the prosecutor asked the court what they
would have told Lana Clarkson if they had seen her just before she
left for Spector's mansion on the night of her death.
"You'd lean over and you'd whisper, 'Don't go. Don't go.' You'd simply
say, 'Lana, don't go,''' Deputy District Attorney Alan Jackson said.
In fact, she had said no at first. But she let Spector talk her into
going. Perhaps she was particularly vulnerable that evening, worried
about her future in this youth-oriented business. Maybe Lana thought
he was the "contact" she had been waiting for. How was she to know
how dangerous he was? How are any of us to know that someone is
capable of such violence? In talking to people about the case, I
learned that it was common knowledge within the business that Phil
Spector has been putting guns in women's mouths for many years. it's a
miracle he hasn't killed someone before now. My contacts say women
did not speak up, because they were afraid their reputations would be
trashed.
I know one thing, guns don't belong in women's mouths and if you play
around with guns, there's no doubt that they can go off and kill
somebody.
We are taught to see the good in people and give them the benefit of
the doubt. But there are men who prey on the trusting and the
hopeful. Lana made a mistake; she heard that voice inside her but she
overrode its message of "don't go!"
There is violence against women everywhere in the world today: date
rape, sexual harassment, battered wives, child sexual abuse and sex
trafficking. In some countries, the scale of such abuses is
unfathomable.
This goes to the heart of what mothers worry about. How do we give
our daughters a road map to navigate the many dangers facing them as
they go out into this complicated world? Is there some class, book or
lecture that illuminates the way, protects them and helps them be
vigilant? How do we warn them without making them afraid of life?
But I also think an important way to survive is though using mothers
as teachers. We can teach our daughters how to take care of
themselves; we can guide them to trust their own instincts; we can
cultivate and honor that inner voice that will speak to them to warn
them when something is not right; we can tell them that you can and
must say "no" when your antenna emits danger signals; we can assure
them "you don't owe anybody anything. You don't have to be
accommodating or nice -- accommodate yourself."
It's clear we can't control life -- we can't always be there at those
treacherous turns. But maybe attuning to their inner voice will be an
important guiding light and saving grace in our daughters' lives.
What is the meaning of Lana's death and my friend Dominique's? Their
sacrifice reminds us to be vigilant -- to strengthen our resolve to
help our daughters, our boys, our friends and loved ones to be safe.
Predators come in many forms and one has to mentally and emotionally
prepare - and be physically ready to summon all we have to recognize
and fight these cruel enemies before they get too close and the word
"no" is no longer enough.