Now that I have your attention, you are forewarned that this post might be offensive to some people.....
.....but you're not easily offended, are you?
This originally appeared on my old Texas blog Lone Star Concerto. I'm rehashing it here. It's (annoyingly) long, but I have the desire to unleash some dark true confessions.......including an intricate encounter with a murderer.....
Jon V. 2025
Recently, I accidentally discovered a video on YouTube that jolted my memory. It recounted the savage murder of Danny Lockin (1943 - 1977). Lockin was a 34-year-old dancer and actor, who is best remembered for portraying the role of Barnaby Tucker in the 1969 film Hello Dolly starring Barbara Streisand. He also appeared in numerous other movie and TV roles.
One night in August, 1977, Danny Lockin was at The Mug - a gay bar in Garden Grove, Calif. He happened to meet up with Air Force Veteran Charles Leslie Hopkins (1943- 2006) who was a regular customer at The Mug. The two left together and went to Hopkin's apartment. It isn't exactly clear what transpired that fateful night, but Hopkins tortured and murdered Lockin - stabbing him over one hundred times.
Due to incomprehensibly lenient California laws, Charles Hopkins only served four years in prison. When the homicidal maniac was released, he got married and sired four children. His eventual long, slow death from cancer, I suppose, was appropriate karma.
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So, why is this of interest to me?
During the time of Danny Lockin's murder, I was a frequent customer at The Mug and knew the local bar "scene" very well. It was an extremely dangerous time for many reasons.
Orange County Memories
Garden Grove is a city in Orange County, California - which, at that time, was infested with vicious vice cops, homophobic psychopaths, and other assorted undesirables. There were also several Orange County serial killers who targeted young gay men - including Randy Kraft and William Bonin. Delving into the seedy underworld of hedonistic pleasures was very risky business.
during my turbulent terrible youth
In my youth, I divided my time between Orange County and Hollywood. The two places are only about 25 miles apart but seemed more a distance of light years.
Orange County - which consists of a haphazard conglomeration of many cities crammed together - was once a strictly white, very conservative, Republican area of Southern California. Things began to change after the Vietnam War, when a massive influx of Vietnamese refugees infiltrated Orange County. Most of them were good, honest, hard-working people....but that also happened to be the time when seedy "massage" parlors (featuring Vietnamese women) began cropping up on nearly every street corner. Much more than massages were offered.
Some parts of Orange County remained unblemished, but suddenly adult bookstores and porno theaters began appearing in certain areas. By the 1970s there were about a dozen gay bars in Garden Grove - which, ironically, was more than there were in Hollywood.
My familiarity of Orange County came from the fact that my parents lived there. I went to college in Orange County. I also got my first job as a security officer there (at Hughes Aircraft) my first gig as a pianist, and (strangely enough) my first job as a movie extra (I appeared in "Malibu Beach"). I even met actor/icon John Wayne in Orange County. Twice.
My (transitory) fascination with the bar scene culminated in Orange County. I got into the habit of bar-hopping on Garden Grove Boulevard, where most of the bars were located. I'd often start in early evening and traverse from one bar to another, until 2:00 a.m. closing time. By then I'd be so thoroughly drunk that I didn't care what I did or who I went home with.
My two favorite bars were the Tiki Hut and The Mug, but I also frequented The Saddle Club, Rumor Hazzit, The Iron Spur, and DOK West. DOK was more of a disco/nightclub. Since I didn't like to dance, it was the least desirable haunt on my agenda.
Fling with a Nazi
The Mug seemed to attract a host of sleazy characters. That's where I met the guy who turned out to be a Nazi. When I first went to his house and saw a startling array of Nazi flags displayed in the living room, I assumed I was in possible peril. After a drunken night of semi-rough debauchery (use your imagination), he showed me the sizeable collection of loaded guns that were stashed under the mattress of his bed. I was astonished (and relieved) that none of those guns went off.
Big sigh of relief.
My "relationship" with the Nazi quickly waned. He wrote me letters, asked me to move in with him. Nope. No, thanks. Trust me, boys and girls, I ain't no Nazi.
S&M with a Blond Mexican
The Mug is where I also met a handsome green-eyed blond, who was born in Mexico but spoke fluent German. It was an unnerving surprise when I discovered he was heavily into SM. He had an array of wicked-looking whips and buckled belts - and begged me to beat him. My hesitation only served to make him grovel on the floor and cry (real tears). Since pain is the very least of my hedonistic pleasures, my half-hearted attempts with the belt were met with annoying moans of displeasure. I faked my way through an evening that was much more tortuous for me than for him.
I'm definitely not into S&M. No way. I only saw the Mexican German once. Once was enough.
Tacos or bratwurst?
Caught!
One bar--hopping night I was so drunk I lost sense of everything. Can't remember what bar I was in. An intriguing stranger invited me to his home. I foolishly followed. Of course we wound up in bed. Right in the middle of.........inebriated ecstasy.....his wife came in!!! Screaming! Enraged! She grabbed a lamp from the nightstand and hurled it at us with remarkable aim.
I FLEW out of bed, grabbed my clothes, ran outside stark naked.
The End
Am I saying too much? Probably. Hang on and try to relax. The ride isn't over.
I'm not in the least surprised that a murderous maniac was a "regular" at The Mug (I'm referring to the aforementioned Charles Leslie Hopkins). I did remember seeing Charlie once or twice, but I had absolutely no interest. He gave me unholy vibes.
I never saw Danny Lockin, but heard rumors that he occasionally showed up at the Mug. His murder deeply disturbed me.
Come to think of it - - I encountered more weird, frightening, dangerous characters in Orange County than I did in Hollywood
I'm saving the very best for last
Grim Brush with Death
By far, the very worst and most dangerous incident I ever experienced didn't happen via the bar scene - but did occur in Orange County. I wrote a blog post about it called "The Midnight Shift" in case you're interested in more details, Look it up.
I was in my early 20s, working as a security guard in a large (well-known) store and warehouse in Santa Ana. I worked the midnight shift and was there entirely alone until 7:00 a.m.
The janitor - who was supposed to leave at midnight - began staying overtime. He would hang around with me for hours, annoying me with nonsensical (and disturbingly strange) conversations, and following me on my hourly patrol around the building and yard. I felt extremely uncomfortable with him tagging along, but reluctantly endured his company.
When he began making sexual advances, I politely but firmly declined.
To condense an extremely long and complex story, a few days later the janitor murdered a young (daytime) employee at the warehouse, who looked very similar to me and had the name John.
He hid the body right outside (a deliberate omen) near my office door. I was unknowingly there all night with a corpse - which wasn't discovered until dawn!
This incredible story is filled with many bizarre twists and horrifying turns. In the end.....the janitor escaped and was never caught. I quit my job, fearing for my safety.
There are many more astonishing details concerning this story that I haven't yet publicly revealed. I strongly suspect he murdered his wife ( for insurance money). And I still shudder when recalling psychopathic things he confessed in our long midnight conversations.....
I truly know for certain that he had planned to murder me - for private reasons that I won't disclose here (he stole information from office files and got my home phone number and address).
Yes, I had an interview with the homicide detectives. Said I feared for my life.
The janitor (Robert) is probably deceased by now. He was at least 25 yrs. older than me.
I write, reveal, and confess the absolute truth - - and yet I hardly scratch the surface.
This horrifying misadventure wasn't thrilling. It was extremely dangerous and sobering. I never had long, intricate conversations with a maniac before. He would go way "off" track, as though he was in a trance. I had a subtle way of calming him down and defusing him from evil intensions.
I think it saved my life.
Many thanks for reading this and enduring my verbosity.
Jon 💜 probably tainted but undeniably intriguing
P.S.
My horrifying "adventure" with the janitor Robert lasted several very unnerving weeks. He confessed many dark secrets to me. I have no doubt that he killed his wife and several others. He previously did medical work and knew a lot about drugs and medications.
And I have absolutely no doubt that he planned to murder me.
When he murdered the young man named John where we worked, and put the body near my office overnight, it was a bizarre "warning" to me. It's all too intricate to fully explain.......
I know far more than I can reveal.
By the grace of God, I know I have a guardian angel.
Ok, you might not respect me after reading this post, but you have to admit.....my life wasn't bland or boring!
Your comments are welcomed, even if they're verbose 😸
