Murder of a Mafia Daughter: The Story Behind Suspicions Robert Durst Murdered Susan Berman & Her Life and Tragic Death by Cathy Scott

Author:Cathy Scott [Scott, Cathy]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Barricade; Reprint edition
Published: 2013-10-29T23:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER 7

Beyond College

SUSAN THRIVED IN the Bay Area. She enjoyed the fast pace and her growing high profile as a staff writer at one of two prominent newspapers in the Bay Area. She made new friends and she dated a lot. Susan was in her element, excelling both professionally and personally.

One of her new friends was Bachmann. Said Marcy: “We became friends in the early seventies when both of us worked at the San Francisco Examiner. I was freelancing, filling in for people who were on vacation. I would work for maybe six weeks at a time. That’s where I met Susan. We hit it off after she kind of latched onto me.”

While at the paper, Susan moved from Berkeley to downtown San Francisco, mostly because she disliked crossing the Bay Bridge to get to work. It was one of her many phobias. “She used to hate to come to work in the city. She was convinced that one day she would stop her car and jump off the bridge. She would say, ‘I’m afraid I’m going to throw myself off the bridge.’ I would laugh at her,” Marcy said.

Because she didn’t yet know very many people in the city, Marcy introduced Susan to her friend Juline Beier, who lived in the same San Francisco neighborhood as Susan. They too became fast friends.

Marcy described Susan as “a delightful person.” Still, Susan had quirks that not everyone at the paper accepted, like her constant wearing of what some called a “ratty raccoon coat.”

“I was the only reporter in our department prepared to accept her eccentricities,” Marcy noted. “The thing about Susan, she was ahead of her time. The way she wrote, she used to write from the gut.

“A lot of these women intensely disliked Susan. She looked like a big loveable kid, I guess. When she walked into a room, you couldn’t help but notice her. I always felt that the other writers were jealous of her. She was really good. I would tell her all the time how good she was. She was an instinctive writer. She was very emotional and she knew how to get it out of her head and onto paper. A lot of writers there were hack writers, quite frankly, and they were envious of her.”

Susan’s closest friends overlooked her quirkiness because she was fun to be around. “One Fourth of July, she organized several carloads of her friends at the last minute,” Marcy said. “We took off for Stinson Beach where we spent the day sprawled on towels, gossiping, sipping sandy Cokes, and basking in the sun.”

Marcy described her friend as “a giving person, especially when it came to holidays. Her heart was huge. One Thanksgiving, she had a large potluck dinner at her home, a large Victorian painted purple with bright-red gingerbread trim. There must have been four or five turkeys, at least. She invited all of her single friends who had nowhere else to go.” Susan’s home in the Heights, in the park-like neighborhood with scenic views, Marcy said, “was absolutely gorgeous.

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