An Encounter with Charles Manson in a Psychology Class

Introduction to Psychology

Have you ever met Charles Manson in a casual setting, maybe in a classroom? In my case, in 1977, I found myself seated in the same "Introduction to Psychology" class as Charles Manson, albeit a different Charles Manson. This encounter was not the note-worthy one as suggested by his infamous name, but rather a slice of everyday life in a small, mundane course that seemed all too common for a freshman Engineering student.

This particular class was a requirement for graduation, a Humanities class that none of us were particularly excited about. Despite its importance, the teacher made it a bore, lecturing with his eyes closed, which didn't seem to affect his delivery of the course material in the least.

The student desks resembled those from high school with a small, laminated plywood surface for writing. As a student in the class, I can only speculate on the dynamics and focus of the other 30-odd students, but the eerie presence of Charles, who was not the notorious Charles Manson, was quite memorable.

The Malevolent Skateboard Demiurge

Charles, one of 40 or so Charles Mansons living in the US at the time, was a unique feature of our small classroom. He made an impression not just through his attendance, but through his rather unconventional and memorable habit during the class lectures.

Early in the semester, Charles got into the habit of bringing a large, menacing knife to class. Far from a benign stationery item, Charles’ knife became a tool and a weapon for modern-day Jack the Ripper. He would cut and dig away at the edge of the top layer of laminate on his own desk, a project that seemed to consume his attention. As time passed and the conditions in his workspace deteriorated, Charles' actions became more vigorous. Each lecture saw a louder and more pronounced "Cr-r-r-r-h-h-h-ch!" every 5 minutes or so, the sound of the classroom growing from a softer noise to a surprising and sudden crescendo.

The methodical nature of Charles’ work drew little to no attention from the professor, who continued his lecture with the same unwavering poise, never once opening his eyes, missing a syllable or pausing for words. The class, though small, was transformed into an odd symphony of curriculum and scrape, a cacophony that would have driven most students to distraction or riotous laughter.

The Grand Finale

The project saw a climax a few minutes before the end of the semester. Charles, so immersed in his desk-toppering that he managed to separate more than half of the top layer of wood, then took to using both hands and his knife to increase the speed of his work. The “CR-R-R-R-R-R-R-H-H-H-H-H-CH” grew louder and longer, a chaotic and cacophonous noise that was both humorous and unsettling.

Charles concluded his project with a final, dramatic and synchronized effort that created a rip that lasted about 10 seconds. The noise was so loud and sudden that it caused a momentary alarm in the class, but the professor never blinked. He paused for about 5 seconds, as if time itself had been disturbed, then continued his lecture as if nothing had happened, eventually completing the rest of the lecture without mentioning the sudden commotion below.

Lessons Learned

While I don’t recall a single piece of information the professor eventually shared that semester, I can confidently say the class—particularly the methods of Charles Manson—left an indelible impression. This experience is a testament to the human mind’s capacity to adapt to even the most unusual disruptions and the enduring power of memorable moments to stay with us over time.

Charles, of course, was not merely a college student; he was part of a deeply tragic and scary chapter in recent American history. Yet, I can't help but be glad to have met a Chas in a more mundane setting, if only to appreciate the stories of those who did get involved in truly disruptive events.

Keywords: Charles Manson, Introduction to Psychology, Classroom Anecdote