George Wethern - Wayward Angel. The Full Story of the Hells Angels

Copyright 1978 by George Wethern and Vincent Colnett

First Lyons Press edition, 2004

Originally published by Richard Marek Publishers in 1978.

ALL RIGHTS RESERVED. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying and recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, except as may be expressly permitted in writing from the publisher. Requests for permission should be addressed to The Globe Pequot Press, Attn: Rights and Permissions Department, P.O. Box 480, Guilford, CT 06437.

The Lyons Press is an imprint of The Globe Pequot Press.

We gratefully acknowledge permission to quote and paraphrase articles from the following:

The San Francisco Chronicle: Copyright Chronicle Printing Co.,

The Associated Press: Copyright The Associated Press.

The Library of Congress has previously cataloged an earlier edition as follows:

Wethern, George.

A wayward angel: the full story of the Hells Angels / by the former vice president for the Oakland Chapter George Wethern, and Vincent Colnett.1st Lyons Press ed.

p. cm.

Originally published: New York: R. Marek Publishers, c1978.

Includes bibliographical references.

ISBN: 1-59228-385-3 (trade pbk.) 1. Hells Angels. 2. Wethern, George. 3. Motorcycle gangsCalifornia. I. Colnett,

Vincent. II. Title.

HV6489.C2W48 2004

364.177092dc22 2004048789

E-ISBN 978-0-7627-9620-5

ACKNOWLEDGMENTS

The authors wish to extend their sincerest thanks to former U.S. Marshal Arthur Van Court, whose unwavering cooperation and encouragement helped make this book possible, to Deputy U.S. Marshal Warren Bearup, who provided valuable assistance, and to others in the Marshals Service. Our gratitude also goes to California Department of Justice special agent Jack Nehr and former U.S. Attorney James L. Browning, Jr., for their cooperation. And to those numerous sources who cannot be identified, we convey our appreciation.

NOTE

In violation of the Hells Angels incredibly strong code of silence, George and Helen Wethern have taken the risk of writing about their fourteen-year association with the motorcycle club. Besides hoping book proceeds would help their family reestablish itself in a faraway place, they wanted to set the record straight about this most misunderstood and romanticized group. And, perhaps most of all, they desired to deter others from pursuing such a destructive lifestyle. This was best expressed in a jailhouse letter from Wethern to his wife:

Maybe we can help other people from getting involved in drugs, so they wont have to go through hells too. I know quite a bit about drugs through my own stupidity, but I think I can turn it around to help other people. If some of the damn drugs can be stopped through my efforts, maybe some of the killings will stop. If what Im going to tell saves one life, itll be worth it....

They wanted the book to be an honest and unrestrained portrait of their family and the royalty of outlaw motorcycling. And, thanks to new identities provided by the U.S. Marshals Service, they could use their true names and tell their story relatively free of threats of retribution. They took advantage of their unique situation by relating in intimate detail the secrets, motives, and personalities behind the most infamous bunch of bikers in history. They wrote about the good as well as the bad because they knew good times and bad ones, friends as well as enemies. Now what they have writtenand what they have told authoritieswill keep them many miles from family and friends for the rest of their lives.

V INCENT C OLNETT

PREFACE

ROADS END

UKIAH, California, October 30, 1972. By 6 a.m., about three dozen law enforcement officers had taken up positions around a single story redwood house nestled at the base of a wooded hillside. Crouched behind cars and flattened against tree trunks, they drew beads with pistols, rifles, and shotguns. But there was no movement from the house other than the wisps of smoke curling from the chimney. They waited and listened.

Then, at the sound of scrambling feet inside, one officer raised his bullhorn:

COME OUT WITH YOUR HANDS HIGH!

The first response was a paper bag sailing out the door. Then a 280-pound bearded man lumbered onto the porch with his hands up. Dont shoot, he yelled. This is my family in there.

George Wethern walked forward with a ponderous sway. In a moment, his wife, Helen, a tiny woman with an elfin face and close-cropped blond hair, was standing in his shadow along with their chubby nine-year-old son and thirteen-year-old daughter. Raiders from state, federal, and local jurisdictions swarmed around them with guns drawn.

They handcuffed the parents, then state narcotics agent Jack Nehr read from a search warrant that referred to narcotics, firearms, explosives, and human skeletal remains.

With his family under guard and a dozen investigators fanning over his 153-acre ranch, Wethern took bomb squad experts and some other officers on a tour of the house and a childrens dormitory. A pair of stolen .30-06 rifles and seven legal guns were seized along with the paper bags contentsan ounce or two of methamphetamines, a pound of marijuana, some Seconal, and other pills.

Later, Wethern was driven a few miles to the Mendocino County jail and interrogated by Nehr, Bruce True, and other agents. He admitted being a former Hells Angels motorcycle club member, but he remained faithful to the club code of silence and dodged questions with word games and roundabout answers.

The questions, however, indicated someone in the club had betrayed him, and possibly was trying to set him up. He gaped when Nehr said matter-of-factly, Ya know, Tinys dead... He took his last boat ride. Was cut to pieces by nine-millimeter slugs. He squealed like a pig.

Tiny was Michael Walter, a close friend and the Oakland Angels No. 2 man. He had vanished the previous month, leaving behind his motorcycle and all personal belongings. The agent was stating hearsay as fact, but Wethern didnt know that. He was certain authorities were putting a murder on his doorstep, although his only crime had been providing two empty pits to Angels leader Ralph Sonny Barger as a favor. He didnt even know the names of the dead buried on his own ranch.

I dont know anything about it, he said.

When the agent asked him whether there were any well holes on his ranch, it became obvious that authorities had been told about the burials. Wetherns family and his own life were at stake. So he put aside the possible consequences of breaking silence, then let out fragments of information. Finally, he took a long breath and said, Ill show you the wells.

When they returned to the ranch, backhoes and other machinery were already scooping dirt at the front of the property where an informant had directed them. Wethern pointed out a spot twenty-five feet from that excavation, then, after some hemming and hawing, guided authorities to a flower garden less than fifty feet from the house.

Later that day, the stench of decayed flesh rose from two yawing excavations at those spots. The skeletons of two men were lifted from a twenty-two-foot-deep, dirt-filled well shaft. The partially mummified body of a red-haired woman was exhumed from the second hole. An informant had reported that Tom Shull and Charlie Bakera pair of Georgia cyclists missing for more than a yearwere buried on the ranch, and the two male corpses matched their descriptions. Yet the unidentified female corpse was a total surprise to the raiders.