El Coyote Turns 80

40th Anniversary of the Sharon Tate Murders

Sharon and Roman fell in love. They were married on January 20, 1968. Later that year, Sharon learned she was pregnant. She and Roman found a larger house to live in with the baby at 10050 Cielo Drive in Benedict Canyon, a beautiful ranch style home with a pool and guesthouse. The previous tenants had been Terry Melcher, son of Doris Day, and his girlfriend Candice Bergen. In February 1969, Sharon and Roman moved in. Sharon called the home her "love house."

-- Poe Forward

On the evening of August 8, 1969, Sharon Tate, Jay Sebring, Wojciech Frykowski and Frykowski's girlfriend, coffee heiress Abigail Folger, ate their last meal at El Coyote on Beverly Boulevard. They returned to the Cielo Drive home in Benedict Canyon about 10:30 p.m.

During the night they were murdered by members of Charles Manson's "Family" and their bodies discovered the following morning by Tate's housekeeper, Winifred Chapman. Police arrived at the scene to find the body of a young man, later identified as Steven Parent, shot to death in his car, which was in the driveway. Inside the house, the bodies of Tate and Sebring were found in the living room; a long rope tied around each of their necks connected them. On the front lawn lay the bodies of Frykowski and Folger. All of the victims, except Parent, had been stabbed numerous times. The coroner's report for Tate noted that she had been stabbed sixteen times, and that "five of the wounds were in and of themselves fatal".

-- wiki

Police took the only survivor at the address, the caretaker William Garretson, for questioning. Garretson lived in the guest house which was located on the property, but a short distance from the house, and not immediately visible. As the first suspect, he was questioned and submitted to a polygraph test. He said that Parent had visited him at approximately 11:30 p.m. and left after a few minutes. Garretson said he had no involvement in the murders and did not know anything that could help the investigation. Police accepted his explanation and he was allowed to leave.

-- wiki

Cult leader Charles Manson and his group went on to kill the La Bianca's the next day. Eventually, Manson and company were arrested, found guilty and sent to prison. They cheated the hangman when capital punishment was briefly outlawed in California. The Cielo Drive house was razed and a new mansion built in its place.

Sharon Tate was interred at Holy Cross Cemetery in Culver City, California. She was buried with her son in her arms. Her grave is just a short distance from Bela Lugosi, Bing Crosby, and Rita Hayworth.

An El Coyote Christmas

Another El Coyote Caesar Salad with Fajita Chicken

Day Trip to Hollywood - Part One

Tuesday, August 21st, Noon, I found myself driving east on Pico. It wasn't too hot and as long as I didn't use the air conditioning, I wouldn't have to worry about my Mercury causing a fit. I considered stopping at Lazer Blazer, but decided I didn't feel like shopping. I was hungry.

Near Century City, police car sirens told me to pull over to the side of the road. Two squad cars passed me by and I swear I heard a helicopter overhead. Then, there was an ambulance. I considered turning around and heading back to "Burger Madness" in Ocean Park, but the call of El Coyote gave me courage. Turned out there was nothing to fear on Pico except the traffic. When I passed La Cienega, I looked at the piece of property where KOWLOON once stood. Many rum drinks served with umbrellas were sipped by me and mine there amongst the aquariums stocked with fish. Then, they tore it down. What a waste. It would probably have been a big hit these days.

I turned north on Hauser and drove through the spine of Park La Brea. I used to ride my bike here before they put up all the gates and drove out us peasants. My windshield was dirty. It wasn't that grey of a day.

Before I reached my seat at the bar, the bartender had already taken my order. Fox News was on the television and I wanted the remote more than the scratch margarita I'd just asked for. Luckily, one of the regulars I always see in there at lunchtime got control of the remote and started changing channels. He gave me the choice of baseball or soccer. I chose CNN, but he switched it to baseball. Anything's better than Fox News.

In all the years I've been going to El Coyote, I never had the Caesar Salad before. This day, I had it with Fajita chicken. It was awesome. The second scratch margarita made it even better.

I left El Coyote by the alleyway and drove onto Beverly heading east. The New Beverly Cinema is still open while the Rialto in Pasadena ceased operation last week. Let's just hope a Starbucks doesn't wind up there someday.

I slipped over to Larchmont and turned up to Melrose. As I approached Gower, I decided it was a good day to take another left and stop over at Hollywood Forever Cemetery. But that's Part Two.

El Coyote Today

EL COYOTE: Do you get it or not?

I drove across town to eat lunch at El Coyote today. I sat at the bar and had two scratch margaritas along with a tostada served with fajita chicken. The old guy on my right (see pic above) told me about his life in Larchmont and the dead couple that left their estate to their doctor. The guy on my left (no pic) told me he's lived in the Park LaBrea since the sixties. He runs an ice cream store at Farmer's Market that his grandfather started. He recommended watching the Science channel.

I love El Coyote. There are two types of humans in this city. You either get it or you do not. A third type might be those that don't get it, but pretend to. The food, Californian Mexican diner style, is as kitch as the decor. Get it? (You are eating art and participating in a performance piece.)

Documentary filmmaker and professor Mitchell Block was the first person to take me to El Coyote back in 1978. (He had taken us film students to the cast and crew screening of Piranha at the Director's Guild theatre, which was on Melrose then.) At the restaurant, we sat in the back in a large red vinyl booth and raved about the carnival atmosphere.

All through UCLA Graduate Film school (80-83), we ate religiously at El Coyote as a prelude to double features at the New Beverly Cinema. The food and drink was so affordable you could buy rounds for strangers and we did.

In 85, I moved into the neighborhood. I took up residence at the Cameo apartments on Cochran Avenue just south of 3rd street, three blocks west of La Brea and four blocks away from the entrance to an air conditioned margarita paradise.

Then, I met my wife and we went on our first date to El Coyote. She grew up in the neighborhood and attended Fairfax High. She and her buddy Lisa would pig out there regularly. When we met, we discovered our mutual fondness for the place, so we chose to go there when we scheduled our first date. We sat in the rear west room, which once had a working fireplace. We were seated at a booth with an unstable table, so we switched to another booth. Several margaritas later, we confirmed our suspicions that we were talking to another person from our home planet. When we moved in together a short while later, we elected to stay in the neighborhood and found a larger apartment just two buildings north on Cochran.

Many wonderful evenings were spent at El Coyote with many wonderful people. I particularly enjoyed the rainy Friday nights when the fourth double margarita didn't start to taste too sour.

My friend Steve dined there so regularly that on Friday nights I could have him paged. His wife turned us on to the mexican spaghetti option. At his bachelor party, we smoked a joint at a center table and no one said anything. It was 1987.

In the early nineties, I spent a lot of time hiding out from the heat and reading scripts there. The family matriarch Blanche, dressed in beautiful ornate dresses, would stop by and ask if everything was okay. She was a delightful part of the whole show.

In 93, we moved to Santa Monica and have never found a west-westside alternative to El Coyote. So, we regulary venture back to our old neighborhood and gorge ourselves. My wife meets her best friend there every Thursday night for dinner. (The sour part is that we have to watch how much we drink, so as to safely survive the voyage home to the beach. My wife and I trade off as designated driver.) Anyway, I'm babbling.