Final Analysis (9 page)

“Incestuous fantasies involving his older sister have preoccupied him since adolescence,” Dr. Goldstein noted in his official report.

It is interesting that Evelyn was fifteen when Felix began to fantasize about her—the same age that Susan was when she first went to see him in 1972.

O
n Friday, October 14, 1955, Felix met with Dr. Goldstein but his session did not appear to lift his spirits, and the following day, he felt no better. While torrential rainfall and high winds only added to his gloom, he had a date that night in Manhattan, so he forced himself to get dressed, pack a bag, and make the forty-mile drive to the city.

It was 5:30
PM
when Felix met Fannie for their date. Although he wasn’t in love with her, he enjoyed her company. She put him at ease and allowed him to be himself. He had gotten tickets to
La Ronde,
a performance based on the 1897 play
Der Reigen
(Hands Around) by Austrian writer Arthur Schnitzler. The story begins with the seduction of a soldier by a prostitute, who transmits syphilis during their encounter. The disease is then passed on to each subsequent and interconnected character in subsequent acts until it finally reaches the Count who, in the end, makes love to the prostitute from the first scene, thus closing the circle. The play was still considered somewhat risqué and had sparked outrage when it was first performed in Germany in the early part of the twentieth century. It had been labeled “obscene,” and for a time, was banned from the theater.

As the performance progressed, Felix confided to Fannie that he was seeing a psychiatrist and had an appointment the previous day. Fannie noticed that he seemed more glib than his usual somber self. During his previous visit to New York, he had confided his unhappiness at home—due, primarily, to his relationship with his mother. Now, he seemed more displeased with his naval assignment to Brooklyn and expressed his desire to be stationed somewhere in Europe.

Smiling, Felix turned to Fannie and announced that he had contemplated suicide.

Staring back, Fannie giggled. He couldn’t be serious, she thought, he was grinning when he made the pronouncement.

“I’ve already tried it once,” he announced. Felix said he had actually turned on the gas burners in his house, but while waiting for death, “had grown bored with the whole thing.”

Unsure how to respond, Fannie grabbed his hand to comfort him and recounted the story of her brother’s suicide several months earlier while he was on active duty in the army. As Fannie told the sad tale, she
found Felix’s response worrisome. Suddenly, he was listening very intently, inquiring about every detail, particularly regarding the method her brother had employed.

After the theater, Felix and Fannie returned to her place where they spent the night together. The following afternoon, they attended a matinee featuring Marcel Marceau, but once the film ended, Felix became frighteningly sullen and announced that he wanted to go home.

“Call me the minute you get to Harrison,” Fannie begged when he dropped her off around 5:30 that Sunday evening. She knew that his parents, Eric and Johanna Polk, had traveled to Rochester for the weekend to visit their daughter, Evelyn. With Felix’s brother, John, stationed overseas, there would be no one at home to look after him.

Felix sounded increasingly dejected when he telephoned from Harrison just after 7
PM
. Worried, Fannie phoned him again later that evening. She was relieved when he picked up the line just after 10
PM
, but became distraught as she listened.

“It’s too late for the world,” Felix repeated over and over into the receiver. “Too late, too late.”

Fannie tried to console Felix, but he soon admonished “don’t call back anymore” and hung up the phone.

Frantic, and convinced that Felix was in trouble, Fannie begged her mother to phone the police.

It was nearing 10:30
PM
when Felix sat down at the typewriter. He felt compelled to release his emotions on paper:

Rising from the desk, Felix grabbed the keys to the family car. Feeling stronger than he had in a long time, he took one last look around and headed for the garage. Sliding into the passenger seat, he put the key into the ignition and started the engine. The hum of the motor was comforting, and he felt great relief that he had the courage to do what he wanted to do so many times before.

Police records show that an anonymous call came into the Harrison Police Department sometime after 11
PM
that Sunday night, October 16. The female caller did not give her name; she was just a concerned citizen who wanted to report a “possible suicide” at 308 Harrison Avenue, the home of Eric and Johanna Polk.

Officer Pat Pizarello responded to the “mysterious phone call” and “lights on” dispatch to the Polk residence. Armed with a flashlight, he began to examine the grounds. Hearing a noise coming from inside the garage, he flung open the door to find the space filled with carbon monoxide gas. There was a car parked inside with its motor running and Felix was on the floor adjacent to the car’s front right wheel. At one point, he had been in the passenger seat but had apparently slipped to the garage floor when he became unconscious.

“I had suicidal thoughts before but never thought I’d have nerve enough to try it,” Felix later told psychiatrists at the U.S. Naval Hospital at St. Albans, New York.

Ironically, Felix Polk would be murdered 46 years later, almost to the day.

T
hree years after his suicide attempt, Felix met and married Sharon Mann, an attractive music student at the Julliard School in New York City, who was just eighteen when the couple was first introduced in 1956. At the time, Felix was on temporary leave from the U.S. Naval Reserve, and he was employed as a social worker at the Cedar Knolls School in Hawthorne, New York County, while studying for a master’s in social work at Manhattan’s Albert Einstein College. On weekends, he worked as a recreation therapist at the Linden Hill School for Disturbed Adolescents in Westchester to supplement the monthly disability payments of $231 he had begun receiving from the navy. He was also seeing a private psychiatrist three times a week, paying $15 a session.

Two years after his marriage, on September 26, 1960, Felix received an honorable discharge from the U.S. Naval Reserve for a “physical disability.” That same year, he and Sharon relocated to northern California. There, Felix enrolled at the University of California, Berkeley, where he did additional undergraduate coursework. Deciding he wanted to help people like himself to get well, he applied and was admitted to the university’s PhD program.

While Felix earned his doctorate, Sharon supported the couple, and later, their small family. On October 2, 1962, she gave birth to a son, Andrew D. Polk, and three years later, on March 23, 1965, a daughter, Jennifer, was born. That same year, Felix was awarded both a PhD in clinical psychology and a second bachelor’s degree—a B.S. with honors—from Berkeley University.

The following summer, he traveled to England on a National Institute of Mental Health fellowship, where he remained for two years treating adolescents and families as a staff clinician at London’s Travistock Clinic and Institution. Though records are sketchy, it appears that Felix saw little of his wife and children during that time.

Returning to California in 1967, he landed a plum post as chief psychologist at the Alameda County Mental Health Services in Oakland where he was responsible for overseeing the psychological services for all the clinics and hospitals in the county. In addition, he was an instructor at both Hayward State University in Hayward and at Holy Names College in Oakland. While Felix was beginning to experience success, Sharon, was also excelling in her career, quickly gaining acclaim as a pianist and piano teacher.

By all accounts, the couple seemed happy. Felix and Sharon shared a love of classical music, and for one birthday, Sharon gave her husband a cello. Nancy Lemmon, a teenage babysitter who lived across Cragmont Street from the family in Berkeley, recalled in a telephone interview Sharon’s excitement the evening she presented the expensive instrument to her husband, saying that Felix was overjoyed by the gift and was anxious to learn to play. He had long dreamed of owning a cello and was overwhelmed by his wife’s thoughtfulness.

Nancy was a young teen when she began caring for the Polk children and recalled the couple vividly, stating that they were respectful of each other’s interests and seemed a good match. Felix was always welcoming when Nancy came over, making her feel at ease in his lovely home. While Nancy admitted that she never really knew what type of work Felix did, she assumed he was a college professor because of his intelligence and attire—often a tweed jacket and slacks. Sharon, too, was smart and always attractive in feminine outfits and little makeup.

Nancy was not the only one who believed that the marriage was solid. While their friends agreed that Sharon was the more outgoing of the two, the resounding sentiment was that the two seemed compatible. With Felix’s advanced degrees and Sharon’s blooming career, the couple seemed destined for success.

Things continued to improve for the young couple when at the age of thirty-six, Felix opened his private practice in the yellow clapboard house on Ashby Avenue in downtown Berkeley, several blocks from the house the couple purchased on Los Angeles Avenue. Their new residence was larger than the one on Cragmont and was located just below Arlington Circle in the center of the city. By 1969, Felix’s private practice was flourishing, and he decided to leave his post with Alameda County to devote more time to his patients. His specialty was the treatment of families and adolescents who were “acting out.”

In late 1971, he attended a weekend workshop on Erhard Seminar Training (EST), a new-age movement founded on the Zen-based approach of master and disciple. The session, led by the movement’s founder, Werner Erhard, had a powerful effect on Polk. Friends reported that the thirty-nine-year-old therapist left the workshop believing he had gained more knowledge in that one weekend than during his four years of graduate school. EST, which literally means “it is” in Latin, promoted the idea that through the application of “programming and reprogramming,” people can rewrite their lives, allowing them to be “set free and born again.” Erhard’s theory was that all problems and limitations were in the mind, and people had been “hypnotized during normal consciousness” to develop debilitating habits and beliefs that could be changed through “conscious rewiring.”

For Felix, this new-age theory made perfect sense, and he embraced it wholeheartedly. Perhaps Susan Bolling was his first disciple, since it was not long after his EST session that the fifteen-year-old walked into his Berkeley office for an evaluation.

There is no written record of exactly when the sexual relationship between Felix Polk and Susan Bolling began. According to Susan, she was fifteen the first time Dr. Polk “molested” her. She claimed he invited her to sit on his lap during one appointment, and by their fourth session he had raped her after placing her in a “drug induced” hypnotic trance. When pressed, Susan could not recall details of the alleged assault or explain why it had taken her more than twenty years to recall the abuse. She insisted, however, that it reached a point in her teenage
life when the only time she left the house was to attend her sessions with Dr. Polk.

Before long, Susan grew to dread the appointments, but she claims she never really understood why. There is little question that Susan and Felix engaged in a sexual relationship during their time as patient and therapist. What remains unclear is how that relationship began. According to Susan, all she knew was that the panic—the pounding in her chest, the struggle to catch her breath—never subsided. In fact, it grew worse.

Often, therapists who transgress and have a relationship with a patient are depressed. Rather than predators, they are more often broken in some way. Such was the case with Felix Polk. Susan Bolling was fifteen and needed him. The idea of being needed made Felix feel powerful and sexually charged. In his mind, he and Susan were spiritual comrades, connected by their shared abandonment by their fathers. Susan’s father had left the family when she was six, just like Felix’s father had done—although his action was not by choice, but at the behest of the Nazis.

By falling in love with Susan, he was becoming her father, and Susan hated her father. Susan felt that Theodore Bolling had abandoned the family, and had hurt her mom. Susan recalled a memory in which she walked in on her parents one afternoon at the age of six to find them engaged in a heated argument. Helen Bolling was petite, nearly a foot smaller than her husband, and the impression of her mother dwarfed by her father’s six-foot framed stayed with her.

Unbeknownst to little Susan, Theodore Bolling was angry that his wife was refusing to sign the divorce papers. Helen later recalled how she had known for some time that her husband was having an affair. The “other” woman had been at a New Year’s Eve party that Helen and her husband attended, and Helen immediately knew who she was by the way the woman stared at Theodore. Despite his transgression, Helen was deeply in love with the intelligent, dark-haired man and was unwilling to let him go.

Her refusal infuriated Theodore. Helen recalled it was a horrifying exchange, one that persuaded her to release him from the marriage. Unfortunately for Susan, she was never able to let go of that image.

For some time after that, her allegiance remained with Helen, as evidenced in a letter she wrote to her mother in the summer of 1967. Susan and her brother, David, had been sent to stay with her father and his new family for a time. By then, Theodore Bolling was on his third wife. After leaving Helen, he was briefly married to Rita, the woman who had been the cause of his divorce from Helen. Theodore would remarry once again before settling down and practicing law in Sacramento.

While Susan was enjoying her time with her father, her letter indicates a desperate need to be in contact with her mother:

By fifteen, Susan was on the brink of an emotional collapse. Even under Felix’s care, she continued to feel as if everything was closing in on her. She wanted the claustrophobic sensation to stop. If she could only go to sleep, maybe it would go away.

One evening, Susan’s mother returned home to find her daughter sprawled on the bed. Music was blaring from the stereo, and an open bottle of pills lay by her side. Helen Bolling immediately called for help and alerted Dr. Polk to her daughter’s near-fatal suicide attempt. The psychologist briefly considered placing Susan in a facility for disturbed children at the University of California Medical Center in San Francisco. After careful consideration, he decided instead to put her under the care of a colleague and friend who worked at the Kaiser Mental Facility for Adults in Oakland.

At fifteen, Susan awoke to find herself the only minor in the institution. Much worse than juvenile hall, now she was among truly crazy people. In addition, her psychiatrist was Dr. Polk’s friend. Again, Felix Polk had overstepped his bounds by having the teen admitted to an adult facility and placing her in the care of a friend. If she had been admitted through the hospital emergency room, those doctors would have found a place suitable for a girl her age.

Administrators at Kaiser insisted Susan leave the facility after only one week of treatment; they didn’t want to be liable for a minor. Yet, instead of having the young woman transferred to an age-appropriate facility, Felix Polk took responsibility for her care and allowed Susan to return home to live with her mother in the house she had recently purchased in Orinda.

There was one stipulation—she had to continue to see him for therapy.

In a letter to Alameda County youth officials in 1973, Polk described Susan as a “severely disturbed girl with strong depressive features,” but he failed to mention that his therapy was doing little to help her mental state. Susan was now sixteen. She still refused to go to class, making it clear she had no intention of attending continuation school with a bunch of “uneducated” and “unsophisticated” teens. She was unwilling to be among people of “marginal” intelligence. Remarkably, her probation officer allowed her to remain at home—as long as she continued her therapy with Dr. Polk. The officer had observed a marked improvement in Susan since she started with Felix and believed that the lost teen might actually find her way.

Meanwhile, Helen thought that her daughter was thriving under Dr. Polk’s care.

In reality, Susan was deeply troubled and would later report that her therapy was adding to her anxiety. She later claimed that the sessions included hypnosis—and sex with her therapist while she was in a trance.

For her, the choice was clear: either she would surrender to Dr. Polk or risk being locked up in a mental institution. Whether Polk actually threatened the teen will never be known; however, Susan claimed that if she didn’t comply with his wishes, he would have committed her to U. C. Medical Center. She said that, at times, he would employ the plural “we” when speaking of decisions about her future. Susan was afraid to inquire about the “other” authorities who were also deciding her fate, choosing instead to go along with whatever Felix proposed.

While other teens her age were preparing for graduation and the prom, Susan claimed to be romantically involved with her forty-two-
year-old married therapist. She alleged that her twice-weekly sessions consisted of “sex on the floor” of Dr. Polk’s Berkeley office.

Over time, though, the sex became consensual. Susan had grown comfortable with Felix who, despite his protectiveness, seemed to know how to make problems in her life go away. He had rescued her from school, even helping her to enroll in a course at Diablo Valley College in spite of the fact that she never completed more than the eighth grade.

Finally, someone in her life had taken charge, given her direction, and was really listening to her. Felix was the caring father—and mother—she never had. Even better, he wanted her. She loved that she seemed to be the most important person in his life.

But Susan Bolling was not well, and Felix Polk couldn’t see it.

S
usan waited all day to tell her mother her secret. It was late 1974. She was seventeen now, and it was time to let Helen know that she was a woman. She had rehearsed the conversation in her mind countless times, how she would tell her mother that she was having an affair with Dr. Polk. She even tried to anticipate her mother’s reaction to the news that she was sleeping with a much older, married man.

What Susan failed to anticipate was her mother’s anger. Helen threatened to have Felix’s license revoked. Though she had never tried to intervene before, Helen Bolling would later say that she had always suspected that something was going on between the psychologist and her daughter—ever since Susan told her about sitting on Felix’s lap during some of their sessions.

Ultimately, Helen opted not to alert the authorities, going directly to Felix instead. It was the 1970s, a time when the victim of rape was often treated like the perpetrator, an outcome that Helen did not want for her daughter. As a minor, Helen had had her own experiences with the courts. She described an incident involving inappropriate contact with her father. The experience had been devastating, and she was determined to spare Susan.