March 21, 1967.

Charlie had both dreaded and dreamed of this day.

The day was finally here.

This would mean that he would have to leave his familiar

surroundings of the institution he had called home

for the past six years.

Charlie walked down the long dark corridor

of McNeil Island penitentiary to freedom.

I tried he thought.

I asked to say, in front of him, the heavy metal doors

loomed.

The door slowly creaked open, and Charles Manson

stepped out into the humid air of the 1967 summer of love

and made his way down to San Francisco.

It was in this environment of cultural revolution

that Charlie started his family.

There's a time for the time keeps on flying.

Think your love and baby, and all you do is cry and you can feel

all those feelings real.

Look at your game girl.

Look at your game girl.

What a mad delusion.

...