The Untold Story Of Klymaxx

1979. Eddie was a smart man who made smart investments, and he also worked a full-time job, paying all the bills and trying to keep his young girlfriend happy. As a result, I was able to pause my public relations job and put my modeling and acting career on hold to help Bernadette pursue her dream of an all-girl band. I believed in her and was in sync with her vision.

Bernadette was a funky little drummer girl. However, what I loved the most was her showmanship. She was exciting to watch and daring. Bernadette was four years my junior. She had an excellent sense of humor and was one of the most creative and intuitive individuals I have ever known. She had what one would consider “star quality.”
I was a hustler, daring, attractive, and street-savvy with a comedic personality. Creativity was the least of my attributes, but I was willing to try. Together, we were men magnets, a comedy duo but a passionate team obsessed with becoming successful.

Bernadette had already began searching for girls before me, she had put together a couple of versions of her band, but eventually passed on the them for various reasons. However, I was beside her, financing the hunt and enjoying the ride. Initially, she sought girls through a local newspaper called The Recycler, via word of mouth, through clubs, and even church. Bernadette was meticulous, and most girls did not last long. She had this certain vision and would wake up and realize they were not the right fit, and then we moved on to the next. Auditions were frequent, and relentless in our pursuit, we even stole girls from other bands.
One day, while driving in Bernadette’s white convertible MGB, I asked her if she had a name in mind for her group.

She replied, “Yes, ‘Klymaxx’ is spelled with a K and ends with two X’s, so no one confuses it with the word climax, but it is catchy enough to stick in the public’s minds.”
I loved it.

Bernadette began her love of drumming when her mother purchased a piano for Bernadette and a drum set for her brother as Christmas gifts. But, she gravitated towards the drums instead. She practiced every day and played in the church at an early age. She later studied music in high school with the marching band, where the director discovered her knack as a natural performer.

While sitting in her accounting class in college, she decided her passion was music. Despite her parents’ wishes, she put her studies on hold at El Camino College and pursued the road to becoming an entertainer. Bernadette, who had already dealt with a generational dislike from the women in her tribe, became the black sheep of her family. I understood what it felt like to be the outcast of my kin. In her elaborate plan, we became each other’s only support system, a vision that none could see but us. We grew stronger than biological sisters, like bread and water.

I was blessed with attributes but no vocal experience, musical talent, and a lack of rhythm. I finally discovered an instrument I could almost play called ‘the Syn-drums,’ an electronic unit that gave off a strange but funky tone when you hit it. I played them with drumsticks as they stood independently in front of me. Now I was a musician, an official member of Bernadette’s next group of girls named Klymaxx.

Sal’s company, “Marcel Records,” had been unsuccessful; therefore, presenting him with the concept of Klymaxx was not an option. I impressed on Bernadette that she needed to get out, be seen, to find the other girls for the band in hopes of a lucrative recording contract. We trusted that somebody would be interested in signing and making us into stars.

I continued to see Jermaine during this time and finally told Bernadette about the situation; she became my accomplice, often driving with me to West Hollywood to see him. I’d go in, and she would do what we called a P. A. W (park and watch) outside because my encounters with Jermaine were usually brief. I traveled there for a purpose: to sleep with one of the Jackson 5. As soon as I finished, I would hurriedly jump into the car, and we speed off. Bernadette was nosey and wanted to know everything, and I would supply her with all the juicy details. One was that Jermaine had a massive member. Now I don’t know if he was the best lover, but because he was one of the Jackson 5, he was the greatest. Even though a few knew about my encounter with Jermaine, Bernadette was the only person I could trust with the inside scoop. Knowing the girth of his private parts was valuable information to the world. As the affair continued, Jermaine soon became bored of sleeping with the mother of a possible love child, so he pushed me away. The calls stopped, and he was never available. Suddenly, Jermaine became anxious to conceal the scandalous affair. In other words, my time was up. He wanted me to become ‘Casper the friendly ghost,’ but I didn’t disappear that fast.

Bernadette, my partner in crime, and I would drive to the studio and wait for Jermaine in the parking lot. When he observed me outside, he beckoned for me and sneaked me into the back room of the studio. One might call it stalking, but I call it a desire to speak and sleep with one of The Jackson 5. As I asked for an explanation, we always had sex sessions that brought us back together again.

I recognized that I was playing myself, but soon, I stopped pursuing him mainly for the sake of Berry and Hazel Gordy. I agreed to become invisible and had to come to grips with Jermaine being my Hollywood dream. However, our affair was in the closing stages of a Las Vegas ending. It was big, but now it’s over.

Everybody Wants To Be A Star

I believed in Bernadette’s dream of an all-girl band she named Klymaxx and was her side-kick to help her achieve her dream, which became mine. I became the financier, the hustler, and I hustled my way to a pair of tickets for the NARM convention (National Association of Recording and Merchandisers), a music business affair. Since 1958, the NARM has been a yearly gathering of all record labels, distributors, music wholesalers, retailers, producers, record company executives, and radio stations. Also, upcoming and established recording artists would attend. This grand event was being held this year at the Century Plaza Hotel in Century City, and Bernadette and I had to be there!

I convinced Bernadette that we should wear something tight to draw attention. I don’t understand why she agreed with me. We had tee shirts made with “KLYMAXX” printed on the front in bold letters. Then, I hired a limousine to make us look important upon our grand entry.

During these years, the NARM convention was a black-tie affair and a celebrity hangout. When we arrived, Bernadette, sitting in the limousine, said,

“Just be cool and pretend like we’re already stars. Give them attitude.”

As we were sitting in our Cadillac limo, Donna Summer was getting out of her Rose Royce limo, and the press turned crazy. Pure chaos ensued.

Donna was hot at the time with a consistent chain of hit records. Bad Girls was the current single and latest album release, and later that evening, she was presented with the Best Selling LP by a female soul artist for her last album, Love Trilogy. She was a goddess. Getting out of her chariot, it was pure pandemonium; Bernadette and I waited for the paparazzi to calm down before stepping out of ours.

As soon as Miss Summer exited and entered the hotel, we got out of our limousine. Paparazzi, already in a frenzy, rushed over, and although they did not recognize who the hell we were, they began snapping pictures of Bernadette, who was closer to them. This was until my country bumpkin ass followed her, then suddenly turned around and asked the driver, “How much do I owe you?”

I was loud enough for the cameramen to hear me, and they realized we were nobodies. They mumbled to themselves and quickly disbanded.

Bernadette, embarrassed, scolded me all the way into the hotel. Saying,

“What are you doing? You just blew our cover; I can’t believe you.”

Looking back, I wonder how we could look like stars with a tee shirt that says ‘KLYMAXX’ and tight pants at a black tie affair. Donna Summer wore a full-length bejeweled gown; she was a star!

We met recording artists like George Benson, Norman Connors, Earth, Wind, and Fire and sat with The Jacksons. I knew the Jackson family and introduced Bernadette to Michael Jackson. She was so shy and barely responded when he said, “Hello.” Later, she told me, “My mouth got stuck.”

We made a few connections, including Maurice White of “Earth, Wind, and Fire. This was after Bernadette pushed me into the elevator with him while the door was closing. Maurice White was in the Ramsey Lewis Trio before starting “Earth, Wind, and Fire,” and hit after hit was the result. We told him about the all-girl band. However, he was fresh from producing The Emotions’ new album and had his share of female artists.

We rode up and down the elevator all night and crashed every private party possible. We often walked through the hotel kitchen to enter the back door of rooms without invitations. We were daring and didn’t worry about what others thought of us, understanding that others’ opinions did not concern the most successful artists. Bernadette’s model has always been, ‘consider the source.’ Bernadette would say, “Confidence separates you from the common thinker and makes you a star.”

I will never forget attending these glamorous affairs in our tight KLYMAXX engraved tee shirts. Our courage goes to show you that when you are hungry for a dream, you have no shame.

Don’t Hustle an OG

Bernadette received a check every month due to her father’s death and was able to purchase her dream car, a convertible MGB. She kept it immaculate because she dated older men who took care of it on her behalf. Typically, these guys were optimistic and often wanted something in exchange. I don’t think so; Bernadette was not the average girl you could trick into the bedroom. She was so damn picky; it totally had to be her decision. We often laughed at how she held onto her “stuff” like a diamond.

Take the guy who rebuilt an engine for her in exchange for sex. After he finished, Bernadette test-drove the car, and decades later, he is still waiting for her return.

One guy treated her like royalty. He called her every day to ask, “Are you okay?” Is there anything I can do for you today?”

I said, “Girl, that boy really likes you. You should give him some.”

Bernadette thought about it and agreed to date him. I remember it was her first time going to a motel for intimacy. She decided on a motel in the Hollywood Hills and drove there to meet him. Around two in the morning, from her mother’s apartment in Inglewood, she called me and said,

Hey, girl, I’m home.

I asked, “What happened to the motel and the guy?”

“It was horrible.” Bernadette replied, “So when he fell asleep, I snuck out with my shoes in hand and with his nickel bag of weed.”

“Why?” I asked. “You don’t even smoke marijuana.”

“Girl, I had to get something out of it.” She said

The next day, we headed to lunch and couldn’t stop laughing.

I soon talked Eddie into purchasing me a convertible Fiat. Bernadette and I named it (Fix It Again Tony). When it wasn’t in the shop, we were both rolling around town, driving behind each other in our convertibles, still on a mission, continually seeking opportunities to finance Bernadette’s dream.

Lost And Turned Out

After having her own apartment since she was sixteen years old, Bernadette moved back in with her mother in Inglewood while attending college. She chose to put her studies on hold and pursued music; her family was unhappy about her decision. One Saturday afternoon, I received an urgent call from Bernadette, crying after a disagreement with her mother about band rehearsal. Bernadette’s car was in the shop, and she asked me to pick her up. Mrs. Cooper disapproved of the band and never got over Bernadette’s dropping out of college. Therefore, whenever we planned a musical gathering, it presented ‘drama’ in her household. Bernadette thought it best to move out. I immediately told her to live with me, and our adventures became more daring and dangerous.

She was very respectful while packing her belongings and wanted to leave her mom’s house peacefully. However, when I arrived, I foolishly stood up for Bernadette and scolded her mother.

“Mrs. Cooper, Bernadette is doing this for you to have a better life. You should support and love her.”

My statement frightened Bernadette; she looked at me and said, “Are you crazy?” Then she motioned for me to exit the house and wait for her in the car. Bernadette continued packing, and we left. Unfortunately, her mother refused to accept the message, and I was never welcomed again.

As we drove away, I turned on the radio, and the song Olivia by the Whispers was playing. I sang, “Lost and turned out-lost and turned out.” I tried to comfort Bernadette, but she stared at me for two blocks, in shock, that I opened my big mouth to her mother.

“Were you trying to get us killed?” She asked.

“I don’t know what I was thinking; I just thought your mother ought to know that your sacrifices were for you and her,” I said.

Bernadette became a welcome addition to my family and nurtured my two children, Jai and Myaa. They loved her dearly because she was a big kid herself and often saved them from punishment. Bernadette nicknamed my daughter ‘the prophet’ because Myaa was always intuitive and serious. It was almost as if she had special powers and could see things before they happened. We were constantly lectured by this toddler who could barely talk ‘“You shouldn’t do this or that.” And what she couldn’t say, she would gesture with her small hands or express with a frown on that tiny face. Jai was just a fun-loving, rough kid, mischievous; he loved and protected his little sister.

During the days, we went to outdoor concerts, visited amusement parks, and attended movie matinees. Bernadette and I were allowed to visit my ex-clients private Malibu beach areas, often escorted by “Sal Watts” children and mine.

Once returning home from a long day at the beach, I contacted a babysitter, changed clothes, and Bernadette and I hit the streets. We attended exclusive parties, hung out at expensive restaurants, and usually, in the wee hours, ended up at the Motown studios with the Commodores. We met many other celebrities, who were always spreading the word about the band. Most male band members shook their heads as if a female band was impossible. However, Bernadette kept Klymaxx on the tip of her tongue.

A Soul Sister’s Kinship

Bernadette and I never argued; we rarely had severe moments or sad episodes. Every day included laughter and seeing life positively. People often assumed she and I were a couple because we were so close and shared everything. However, they were dead wrong; we never had an intimate moment in our entire friendship. Our relationship was a ride-or-die companionship; we could rob a bank together and always had each other’s back; if I had a dollar, Bernadette had fifty cents. Period!

I remember our first discussion about two women being together: It was when I mentioned that a stud female appeared Interested in me. This was in the 70s; we were young and could not wrap our heads around what women, in concert, could do with one another. Although we had an older uncle or a high school friend known in those days as Sissy’s, it was not common. We were not exposed to the lifestyle. I was from the Bible Belt of Texas, and Bernadette was from the Hood. We never spoke negatively; we merely wanted to understand. As a result, we traveled to the 6-foot girl’s house to ask her.

Bernadette and I arrived, knocked on the door, and were invited inside. While sitting on the sofa, making idle conversation with the tall young woman,

I eventually conjured up enough nerves to ask, in my southern drawl:

“Now, what exactly do Y’all do?”

“Let me show you,” she replied.

The stud girl stood up and walked towards us with silky chocolate skin, a short natural, and a smile reminiscent of Sydney Portier. Bernadette and I hit the floor, running at 100 mph out the front door.

As we were leaving, I said, “Sorry, got to go; we forgot we had something to do.”

Bernadette and I laughed about that moment for years and soon learned it was common in Hollywood.

The Reason Behind The KISS

As Klymaxx formed, Bernadette was difficult to please. Many girls were here one day and gone the next. Either fired, they did not fit Bernadette’s vision, or their boyfriends would not allow them to be in the band; the reasons were endless. One problem we had was finding members who were attractive and marketable. Most could play their asses off but needed an image necessary to secure a record deal.

Bernadette and I did our homework. We recognized that most radio DJs, record company presidents, managers, and heads of families were men. Guys are visual beings. If a woman wanted to win, she had to take on the game and be alluring and talented. Once you get through the door, you can lock, seal it, and make changes for future women entering the business.

Finding the right image difficult, Bernadette decided, “We should do a photo shoot with our faces camouflaged and painted like the band KISS.” This band photo became the publicity picture we gave potential record companies. Most labels were not comfortable with the idea of an all-girl band in the first place, and now they were even more confused with our image.

The Ike, Bernadette, And Bonnie Review

Finally, our search for girls found five potential new members that Bernadette approved of. I found a rehearsal hall called “Bolic Sound Studios” in Inglewood, California. Ike Turner, of Ike and Tina Turner fame, owned the studio and rehearsal space. Ike’s recording studio and private offices were in the front, the rehearsal rooms were on the side of the building, and he also owned the apartment complex located in the back.

The minute Ike saw me, he was relentless in his pursuit to get me into his all-white studio. I entered an immaculately furnished front room with a large white sofa, white shag carpet, all-white fixtures, and white walls dressed in gold and platinum albums. Also, the cocaine, placed overtly on the table, appeared the purest I’d ever seen from my years of watching celebrities indulge at Hollywood parties. The potent smell and yellowish hue alerted me to its potency.

I had no desire to indulge, and, besides, Tina’s beatings were public and a sign of what was to come fooling with Ike, and he offered no free rehearsal time, so what was in it for me?

Ike soon turned his lust toward Bernadette, whom I became very protective of, especially when he came around. Bernadette formed a friendly relationship with Ike’s bodyguard, Big Mike, and Big Mike genuinely liked Bernadette as a friend. Ike walked into the rehearsal studio one day to watch and listen to the band. He stared at Bernadette and then left.

Approximately thirty minutes later, Big Mike returned to our band room and whispered in Bernadette’s ear. Apparently, Ike had summoned her to his private suite. I wondered, “What was going on?” but knew she could handle herself; besides, I thought he wanted to discuss the band. I would have sacrificed myself to protect Bernadette if I knew what Ike was trying to do.

Judging by the look on his face, Mike reluctantly relayed the message to Bernadette and escorted her to Ike’s office.

Bernadette explained later, “When I entered his room, Ike was smoking cocaine out of a pipe. He was very polite at first, and I stood there wondering what he wanted. Then he stared at me and said in a stuttering voice,”

“I, I, I like the way you, you play the drums. I, I, I, I think you are the most talented musician in the band.”

“At which time, Ike extended his arm to give me his cocaine pipe, filled with a cocaine rock, towards my mouth and said take a hit.” I said, “No, thank you, Ike; I’m cool.”

Ike did not take kindly to my rejection and aggressively insisted that I smoke. Then Big Mike intervened and stood up to his boss, saying,

“Ike, she’s a good girl; she’s cool, man.”

Ike chilled out, and Bernadette returned with a look of relief as she explained. We then shook it off and continued rehearsing.

Weeks passed before our next rehearsal because sponsor Eddie disappeared and refused to pay my rent and the rehearsal studio tab. I was not sure if he was mad at me, but it left Bernadette and I with no excess funds. Ike locked our equipment in the rehearsal studio and refused to return it because of nonpayment. Discouraged, we tried to figure out a way to get the music gear back. The day that Ike Turner gave us our gangster license was when I was driving by the rehearsal hall and noticed the door was wide open; another band was rehearsing in the studio. I rushed to a telephone booth, called Bernadette, and said, “We’re going in and getting our shit.”

She replied, “Let’s do it.”

Bernadette rushed over in her convertible MGB.

I had my convertible Fiat, and we both put our tops down. We ventured into the studio and noticed our equipment stacked in a corner. I nervously told the male band members, “We are late for a gig and must get our equipment out as fast as possible.”

All the guys quickly helped us load our band gear into my small convertible ‘FIAT’ and Bernadette’s drop-top ‘MGB.’ Our hearts were beating fast, fearing that Ike or Big Mike would come around the corner at any time. We loaded up the cars and drove at high speed down La Brea, known as a main boulevard in Los Angeles. We had an entire drum set, guitars, keyboards, amplifiers, and the ‘Syn’ drums sticking out of our convertibles.

We hid out in fear, thinking Ike would find us, and wondered what the punishment might be. A few days later, the manager called me.

“Bonnie,” He said.

I answered with a shaky, albeit cocky, “Yes, this is Bonnie.”

He laughed and stated, “It tickled Ike; he thought what you girls did was so gangster. He laughed hard at the description of how you did it. Ike said everything was cool and that you didn’t have to pay him for the rehearsal time owed. However, you must pay for all future rehearsals up front.”

Relieved, now Bernadette and I; had the task of getting all the equipment out of my living room and into another rehearsal studio. Bernadette found one, a rehearsal complex called Wilshire Fine Arts. The man who owned the place was Mr. Cooper, a handsome man with a facial structure reminiscent of Harry Belafonte in his mid-forties. He was kind but serious about his business. Fortunately, he liked Bernadette. When she was short on funds and could not pay, all that was required was a kiss that bought us a full day of rehearsal time.

Eddie and I finally rekindled our relationship. He continued his financial responsibilities to me, which helped support Bernadette’s dream of an All-Girl Band. Since I no longer had to hustle money, we had lots of free time on our hands. We lived to watch videos of Cleopatra Jones and Foxy Brown. After viewing it one day, Bernadette stated, “The women empowerment vibe is what Klymaxx should represent.” And I agreed.

As we sat around in the morning, I drank my cup of coffee, and Bernadette always had her daily breakfast of Frosted Flakes. While eating, “These are jamming.” They are really jamming.”

Getting the group up and running would take much more money than Eddie offered. I devised ways of making money to afford rehearsal halls and equipment. Now, in the age of MTV, videos are becoming popular, so we feel we need one. We remained focused on securing a recording contract and being stars.

If It Ain’t Love, It’s A Business Deal

I was the type of woman a poor man couldn’t do anything for me, and I would not get down and then get up penniless; I understood how a man’s mind works: Treat me like a queen, or I’ll be broke by myself.

My first two immediate questions to a guy (which Bernadette hated that I asked) were,

“What’s your name, and what do you do?” Straight up! And then, “How can our relationship be mutually beneficial?” These questions were all I wanted to know. Forget about the small talk. I continued, “What is it about you that gives you an advantage over all the other gentlemen who are calling?” These questions were scriptures in Bonnie’s Bible.

And ironically enough, these upfront questions weeded out the real men from the pretenders. The men with money appreciated my honesty and always called.

Bernadette coined the phrase, “If it ain’t love, then it’s a business deal.”

From Superfly to Don King

Since I always had older men with the money to provide, I concluded that I should work that angle and find Bernadette a “Sugar Daddy.”

For this reason, I approached the ever-so-cool Capricorn to entertain an older, wealthy man. The gentleman I was thinking of was Eddie’s best friend, Gene. He was an older man, 40 years Bernadette’s senior, and had hair on his head like Don King. He was short and not attractive at all, yet financially secure. Gene always complained about not having a woman to spoil and spend his money on like Eddie did. I thought this was the perfect match. “Gene would make the cash, and Bernadette could spend it.” However, I did not tell Bernadette about the unattractive, short Don King part.

Bernadette thought about it and agreed to try it for the sake of the band. So, I set up a blind date through Eddie.

Gene, who drove a brand new brown El Dorado Cadillac, was extremely excited about his young potential date. The meeting was to happen at my apartment in Encino. Bernadette was nervous but excited about the possibility of Gene liking her and being a benefactor. We thought our financial woes would soon be over.

Bernadette was hanging out in my room, watching television, among my luxurious furniture, when Gene arrived. He knocked on the door, entered the living room, and sat on the sofa. Eddie, Gene, and I chatted for a while. I then stepped into the bedroom and said, Bernadette,

“Gene is here. Are you going to come out or what?”

Full of enthusiasm, Bernadette said, “Tell him to come in here.”

An enormous smile came on Gene’s face as he walked toward the bedroom. What happened next was a mystery to me. However, shortly after he entered, Bernadette exited the room with a look of disgust. She stared at me in disbelief and whispered, “Are you crazy?” We could not contain our laughter.

She beckoned me to the kitchen and whispered, “Girl, I can’t do it. I just can’t do it!” Then Bernadette sat on the couch, glued to her Ebony magazine like we were in a prayer meeting. Gene soon returned to the living room where Bernadette was planted; he hung around just long enough to hand Bernadette a fifty-dollar bill. She graciously accepted it; however, she could barely look at him. When he and Eddie left, she rolled her eyes, gave me fifty dollars for groceries, and stated, “Here is your finders fee.” We had to concoct a new plan.

The Ever-Changing Courtship Of Eddie

Eddie, who lived with his wife, often visited us in Encino unless he got mad at me for something I did. At this point, he became invisible and unreachable. The first of the month rolled around, and I could not reach Eddie to pay rent; the courts served me with a three-day notice, and even though I left countless messages about facing eviction, Eddie would not respond. I had enough and said, “Bernadette, get in the car; we’re going for a ride.” I now had a two-door, drop-top Mercedes-Benz. I left the kids with the babysitter, and we headed to the other side of town.

Manicured lawns, Winnebago’s in the driveways, and alarm sign warnings positioned by a stake on the front lawn, where trespassers could see, alerted us that we were in an upscale, predominantly black neighborhood. We parked across the street from a well-kept house and snacked on burgers purchased on the way from Jack in the Box.

Bernadette wondered about our mission but remained silent until she saw a car approaching us with Eddie and a woman sitting beside him. She was Eddie’s wife. Eddie immediately noticed my car lying in wait diagonally from his house, and we made eye contact. He appeared terrified as he turned into his driveway, almost hitting the no-trespassing sign. I started my car and fiercely drove off. With her mouth open, Bernadette burst into laughter.

The next day, Eddie paid the rent in advance for six months and on time after that.

Signed, Sealed, and Delivered

Bernadette changed band members when she felt the members were not right for the band. Eddie and any other man I dated contributed financially to the band, and the costs were escalating. Having become desperate, I introduced a credit card scheme into the scenario.

Back in the 80s, before computers, a stolen credit card was valid for at least twenty-four hours after being reported. Eddie loved me so much that he would do anything for me. The mail carriers knew when the delivery letter had a credit card in it. Eddie’s route was a constant in the wealthy neighborhood of Hancock Park, and the plastic they received usually had high credit limits.

Instead of the intended customer, Eddie selected and sent me letters with credit cards. I would steam them open and gather pertinent identification information on the acceptance letter. I would then use the cards to purchase clothes and other merchandise to sell. After maxing them out, I returned the card to the envelope, resealed it, and Eddie delivered it to the rightful owner.

Bernadette was too afraid to participate, but I always hooked her up with stylish clothes, and we were always sharp. Unlimited cards introduced me to designer clothes from North Beach Leather, Gucci, and Saks Fifth Avenue. So now we look the part, and in most places, everyone thought we were already stars and rarely questioned us.

I often went alone, or Eddie waited for me in the car. If I got an overly suspicious cashier and they inquired about the credit cards, I would act as if I accidentally left my keys and exited the store.

The fun abruptly ended while walking out of the store one day. I had so much merchandise that two clerks assisted me with my bags. Eddie saw these people and assumed they were security. He quickly drove away. I pretended like my ride, tired of waiting, he left me, and I called a cab. Fearful of losing his job and being sent to jail, Eddie shut the credit card hustle down. However, that did not stop me from seeking other opportunities.

Bernadette began contributing by taking a job as an undercover agent for stores. With her previous experience attending a school that specialized in this, an outside investigation company hired her to work undercover, busting employees who stole from their clients’ companies. Therefore, she received a weekly check from her agency and the store. Coming home with double pay helped with rent. She also did other jobs for the investigation agency, and so did I. Keep reading.

Bernadette introduced me to the boss at the investigation company, and they also hired me. The owner required that all employees take a polygraph test at the examiner’s office on Wilshire Blvd. Bernadette’s appointment was at 1 pm, and mine followed at 5 pm.

Her story to the police went like this. “When I arrived in this room, in a large office complex, the polygraph examiner was a black guy, around 35 years old, who asked me to sit down. He explained the process and asked me professional questions, which gradually became personal inquiries about my life. I felt uncomfortable but answered. Then, this man walked over and tried to kiss me, becoming aggressive and reaching for my pants to take them off. I stood up, which he allowed me to do, and rushed to the other side of the polygraph machine. He followed. I began walking faster and found myself running around the table with him in tow to escape. We did this dance for five minutes before I ran out of the door.”

There was no way Bernadette could alert and reach me by pay phone. Thus, when I arrived for my exam, he did the same thing to me.

We compared notes later and discussed it for two days before deciding to press charges for attempted rape.

The agony of it all was disturbing, and justice prevailed slowly. Our initial court date was a month away; still upset, we chose to let his wife know that he was a rapist. Through the white pages (a public directory), we got his home number and called. When his wife answered, I told her what had happened; she called me a liar and hung up, so we decided to torture her. The following phone calls went like this, “Do you know what your husband did?” And then we hung up. Bernadette would be on another phone in the house. We contacted her every day for a week, asking, “Do you know what your husband did?” and then we hung up the phone. One day, she decided to listen to us, and we finally alerted her to the entire story, not the lie he told her. We felt good knowing someone believed in our account.

When Bernadette and I finally went to our first court hearing, we observed him crying in the hallway. He approached us, begging us not to proceed with the case. “I will lose my wife and family, please; I’m sorry, don’t do this.”

We were not as gangsters as we thought, so we dropped the case.

You’re Under Arrest Suga

Bernadette contributed by taking a job working as an undercover agent for stores. With her previous experience by attending a school that specialized in this, an outside investigation company hired her to work undercover, busting employees who stole from their client’s company registers. Therefore, she receives checks from her agency and the store each week. Coming home with double pay helped. She also did other jobs for the private eye company, and so did I. Stay tuned; news at 6 o’clock is coming soon… keep reading.

Bernadette Introduced me to the boss at the Investigation company, and they also hired me. The new owner required that all employees take a polygraph test at the examiners’ office in another part of town. Bernadette’s appointment was at 1 pm, and mine followed at 5 pm.

Her story to the police went like this. “When I arrived in this room, in a large office complex, the polygraph examiner was a black guy, around 35 years old, who asked me to sit down. He explained the process and proceeded to ask me professional questions, which slowly changed to personal inquiries about my life. I felt uncomfortable but answered. Then, this man walked over and tried to kiss me, becoming aggressive and reaching for my pants to take off. I stood up, which he allowed me to do, and walked to the other side of the polygraph machine, and he followed. I began to walk faster and found myself running around the table (with him in tow) to get away. We did this dance for five minutes before I ran out of the door.”

There was no way Bernadette could reach me by the pay phone to alert me. When I arrived for my exam, he did the same thing to me.

We could not believe it and talked about it for two days before deciding to press charges of attempted rape.

The agony of it all was disturbing, and justice prevailed slowly. Our initial court date was a month away; still upset, we chose to let his wife know. Through the white pages (a public directory), we got his home number and called. When his wife answered, I said, “Do you know what your husband did?” And then we hung up. Bernadette would be on another phone in the house, and we called every day for a week, saying, “Do you know what your husband did.?” Click! We finally called and alerted her to the real story, not the lie he told her.

When Bernadette and I finally went to our first court hearing, we observed him crying in the hallway. He came over to us, begging us not to go forward with the case, “I will lose my wife and family; please, I’m sorry, don’t do this.” We were not the gangsters as we thought and dropped the case.

Mr. Big Stuff

Deciding that a nine-five job was not enough to pay for the band’s needs, we depended on Eddie to sustain us. Unfortunately, during this time, the Feds arrested Sal Watts, the man who gave me so many opportunities and was the possible grandfather of my daughter. He was later found guilty of tax evasion and sent to federal prison.

The government confiscated seven million dollars in cash and property. Sal was sentenced to two years in Terminal Island Prison in Long Beach, California; close enough for Bernadette and I to visit? Surprisingly, he was one of Oakland’s most significant cocaine and heroin dealers.

Now, I understand why he always carried a battery-operated TV with him. He could watch the news and keep an eye on his shipments to ensure they made it to the dock. If not, the evening news would indeed report it. One day, the inevitable happened. The federal government confiscated the shipment, docked it, and seized millions of dollars in cash. The Feds surrounded Sal and arrested him.

Bernadette and I visited Sal as often as possible and provided him with many favors. I coordinated talent to perform for the inmates and snuck in contraband.

During that time, smuggling contraband into and out of the minimum security federal prison was as simple as paying off a guard. In fact, sex was common, as security turned their heads and lined their pockets.

Sal convinced us to befriend two of his inmate friends who had no one to visit them. Many of these guys in federal prison were rich, big-time players incarcerated for things like tax evasion. Still, they had cash—bank robbers who hid the money and senior executives who misappropriated funds concealed in a Swiss bank account. Bernadette and I considered the risk and took the plunge for the band’s sake.

Sal introduced me to a handsome guy who looked like “Billy Dee Williams.” His name was Nadine, and stupid me fell in love with him. Bernadette met a good-looking young man named Teddy, who was transferred from a San Francisco prison to Terminal Island. He claimed to be the head of an international car theft ring. Bernadette nicknamed him Mr. Big Stuff because he exaggerated his importance. While visiting Sal, we were always on the list to see the guys.

Teddy mentioned to Bernadette that he had money put away and wanted to invest it. Thinking that a relationship with him would benefit the band, she visited him more often. All seemed well until Teddy revealed his religion; he was a Muslim, and he abruptly took the yogurt she purchased from the vending machine and, without her permission, threw it in the trash.

“No woman of mine is going to eat this.” He said

Apparently, it contained pig gelatin. We all know that Muslims do not eat pork, but in the 70s, Bernadette was not a conscious eater; she came from the ‘Church of God In Christ,’ and they overlooked that part of the Bible and ate pork chops, neckbones, and plenty of bacon. Also, his confusion about Bernadette being his woman made her think he was delusional.

However, the courtship didn’t last long. Teddy reneged on a business deal they had planned. Paraphernalia and drugs were worth triple inside jail walls. She did a favor for him outside the prison, and he refused to pay her.

Knowing that the profit would go to the band, she never visited Mr. Big Stuff again; Sal later informed us that Teddy received more prison time for raping a female guard. Bernadette and I thought, “I guess raping is okay, but pork isn’t.”

I continued to visit Nadine. After his release, I eagerly awaited for him to fulfill all the promises he made. However, his love for me suddenly ended when he became a free man.

The Psychedelic Bathroom

Our shenanigans continued after my failed love attempt with Nadine and Cooper’s break-up with Mr. Big Stuff. It was unusual to see two young black girls following each other in convertible foreign vehicles during that time. Men often hit on us, and we loved playing games. Bernadette brought these cue cards with sayings like Follow me home, Honk if you’re horny, or in this case, Kiss me. Once a guy in a passing car showed interest, Bernadette held up the card and pointed to me, who was trailing her, instructing him to obey the card. Those were the days when you could meet a guy in your car, pull over, and catch a wealthy donor without dying.

By this time, I had moved out of Encino to a cheaper apartment in Inglewood, and Bernadette moved with her mother. With newfound members, we were performing night shows around town. We were also rehearsing for an upcoming performance at a resort in Napa Valley near San Francisco. With no additional money, we drove the six-hour drive. The resort had cottages for guests hidden in the pines, and we performed in the lounge. This mission became another crazy, fun, and first-time experience.

When we arrived in Napa Valley, our rooms were being cleaned. Rushing the housekeeper, I asked to enter so we could rest before the show. Once relaxed, I told Bernadette the twenty-five dollars’ worth of cocaine, packaged in a hundred-dollar bill that a suitor had given me. We wanted to try it together.

We, the fearless duo, proceeded to the bathroom, turned on the lights, and noticed that the housekeeper, in her haste, had left Ajax on the countertop. I pulled out the folded bill, opened it, and we inspected the contents. Bernadette asked, “What will it do? Are we going to die from this?” We both giggled as our curiosity heightened and then Bernadette’s clumsy ass dropped the cocaine package all over the counter. Combined with the Ajax, we scrapped up the remaining coke and put it up our noses. Despite this, we felt nothing, no buzz or sensation. However, we sneezed all night.

Fire knocked me to my knees, and I’m smoking.

In the car on the way home, Bernadette mentioned a guy she met who liked her. She thought he was cute but did not want to dine with him alone. She called, and he invited us both to lunch. When we arrived, he kept talking about his job as an insurance agent. The conversation quickly turned from lust to a sales pitch for life insurance and insurance annuity.

He stated his commission-based position required him to turn in a certain amount of policies by the end of the month and offered to backdate a new renter insurance coverage to ensure he gets his percentage. We stared at him oddly, wondering, ‘Why the hell do we need life or renter’s insurance?’ The conversation shifted from a date to planning our eternal lives. No humor here, so we quickly left.

Coincidentally, a week later, destruction happened. The sound of my son screaming awakened me in a smoke-filled room. I entered the living room and into a blazing fire. Jai had been playing with matches and lit a fire that burned up seventy-five percent of my apartment and all of my belongings. I grabbed my children and ran out of the apartment, naked, with them in my arms. Cold and in shock, I stood outside while the flames grew higher. The firefighters arrived, covered me with a blanket, and evacuated the other tenants. My expensive furniture, furs, jewelry, and all our clothes burned. My children and I had nothing.

We moved in with my extended family: Tory, his sister, brothers, and mother. Trying to get my life together, I mentioned the fire to Mrs. Jackson; she and “Latoya” picked up Jai and Myaa and took them shopping for an entirely new wardrobe. As I pondered how I would survive, the insurance offer popped into my head.

Unknown to the agent, he backdated a renter’s insurance plan for me a month before the actual fire. I waited until the policy was handed over to me and then reported the incident. The insurance company investigated, and sure enough, there was a fire; they opened a claim and paid me handsomely.

The young man realized the con. However, he knew that he couldn’t tell his company because it would appear to be a conspiracy to defraud the company. After all, he had backdated the policy.

The day I picked up a twenty-thousand-dollar insurance check from his office, he gave me the most hateful expression. But I graciously mouthed, “Thank you.”

Since meeting The Jacksons, I have preferred living near them. Therefore, the entire twenty-thousand dollars were put towards an apartment in Encino, buying furniture, clothes, a tummy tuck, and whatever Bernadette needed for her band.