New York – The Beach Boys. Frank Sinatra. Liberace.
Musically, the trio shared little – from the California group’s soaring harmonies to Sinatra’s saloon singing to Liberace’s marshmallow-soft vocals. But their offstage antics were music to the ears of the FBI, where all three became the subject of muckraking files in the agency’s Washington headquarters.
The portfolios contain innuendo and allegations, with the occasional revelation thrown in. The Beach Boys’ penchant for psychedelic drugs and Sinatra’s alleged sex parties with President John F. Kennedy are old news.
But who knew of Liberace’s reputed fondness for gambling? The file on Wladziu Valentino Liberace reports that the rhinestone-worshiping Las Vegas entertainer was betting with a bookie in blue-collar Buffalo, N.Y., for years.
Celebrities and criminals, rock stars and mob stars, athletes and artists – scores of high-profile Americans have their very own FBI files, a bold-faced universe rife with dirt and scandal. It’s no surprise that gossip columnists such as Walter Winchell turn up as sources.
The sheer volume became clear in response to a Freedom of Information Act request by The Associated Press for every FBI “High Visibility Memorandum” filed between 1974 and 2005, allowing a lengthy traipse through the lives of celebrities from A (Louis Armstrong) to Kaye (as in Danny) to Z (Efrem Zimbalist). AP’s request produced more than 500 redacted memos totaling nearly 1,500 pages – a stack of documents 6 inches high.
The FBI kept a file on “The FBI” – the long-running TV show starring Zimbalist as Inspector Lewis Erskine. The real FBI, according to memos, had casting control over its video incarnation: both Bette Davis and Robert Blake were banned from appearing.
Davis was bumped as an alleged communist sympathizer. Blake, recently acquitted of killing his wife, was brushed off after expressing his opinion that “killers aren’t at fault, society is,” according to a memo.
The presence of a file or a memo doesn’t necessarily mean the subject was targeted for an investigation.
“Celebrity files can be tricky to understand,” said FBI historian John Fox. “They can be collections of information gathered from other files. … Louis Armstrong is a good example of that. It would be incorrect to say the FBI investigated him.”
The agency has long maintained that its era of surveillance for political purposes is over, reflecting changes that followed FBI Director J. Edgar Hoover’s death in 1972 – but there remain plenty of nuggets tucked away on FBI letterhead:
Actor Victor Mature once contacted the FBI about a stalker but was “probably intoxicated” when agents met with him about the problem. “I know Mature,” wrote FBI Deputy Director Clyde Tolson. “He is a little nuts.”
Former Ohio State football coach Woody Hayes once recruited the son of an agent in the Cleveland office to play for the Buckeyes, prompting a letter to FBI headquarters. Hoover and Hayes were pals.
Comedian Jackie Gleason launched a 1956 attempt to track down his alcoholic father, who had disappeared when “The Great One” was a child. The FBI aided by checking its fingerprint files.
While the subjects are alive, the FBI releases only public- source information: news clippings and other items already available. Because of privacy issues, the full files, for both celebrities and common citizens, are not made public until after death.
