Someone suggested I share this here:

Before reading, please understand two things. First, I grew up surrounded by the San Francisco ‘upper class’ so meeting famous people and hanging out with the ridiculously rich was nothing out of the ordinary. Second, when the first incident occurred I was about 9 and the second when I was about 12, so I didn’t know what to do with either of them and it took me years to realize what had actually happened.

It was during the race for mayor in about 1979 that Diane Feinstein assaulted me. My family attended a gathering, at Jane Murphy’s flat on Washington Street, of the politically rich and famous. Jane Murphy was the police commissioner at the time. I was introduced to Feinstein and distinctly remember shaking her hand and immediately feeling ill. I’m not saying she was magical or an alien or anything, but before I touched her I was full of wonder at meeting someone so famous. After touching her hand I got the shakes quite badly, started sweating, and felt distinctly nauseous. Turning away from Feinstein, I took my mother by the hand and led her away a short distance and then said “We need to leave. We need to leave right now.” Mom asked me what was wrong, and my Dad came over. I explained I didn’t feel good and that Feinstein made me feel weird. Both parents told me not to worry about it and that maybe I should go to the bathroom and cool down.

So I walked from Jane Murphy’s living room to her guest bathroom - down the short hall on the left - and went in and locked the door. I didn’t have to go to the bathroom. But I was very freaked out and gripped the basin to try to stop shaking. After a bit (not sure how long - maybe 10 minutes) I did calm down and rinsed off my hands.

After replacing the towel I used to dry my hands, I turned and unlocked and opened the bathroom door. Right in front of the door - RIGHT in front - was Feinstein. Now, the odd thing is that she didn’t act surprised when I opened the door. She had not been in the act of trying to open the door. And she had not tried the handle (I would have heard it). She had been standing very close to that door.

I jumped a little when I saw her there and froze. Without skipping a single beat she said “Oh aren’t you that handsome gentleman I met a little while ago?” And then she pushed me (on my chest) back from the doorway and back in to the bathroom.

Again her touch immediately made me feel ill. She looked quickly down the hall, said something else (I don’t remember what), and began walking through the door. I sort of lost my mind at that point and wedged myself past her on the right, forcing her up against the sink, and slid past her through the doorway. I remember her foot touching my shin and I nearly tripped.

Immediately after clearing the door, it shut and locked behind me. I then went straight to my Mom and begged her to leave. I began to make a small scene. So we left.

I didn’t say much on the way home except that I felt sick. I think my parents were a little upset with me, but chalked it up to a kid being a kid.

Some years later there was an event at the school I went to with Pelosi’s son. Maybe it was the annual night parents judge the kids’ art for the school calendar. I can’t remember. But I do remember there was a group of us kids goofing off, sort of running around the school. It was night and that made for a unique and fun experience. I don’t remember exactly what year it was - maybe 1983.

Anyway, at one point Pelosi’s son had ducked through the back entrance to the school theater - so said someone in the group. I was in the lower hallway near the lobby and some woman approached me asking if I knew where Paul was. I told her I heard he was in the theater and she asked me to show her where. It was only up the steps and to the left, so being the polite young man I was, I told her ‘sure’ and led the way.

We entered the back of the theater and it was pretty dark. I stepped through the curtains in the back and looked in to the theater and called for Paul. There was no answer. I started to turn around and the women was right in front of me - nearly touching me. I stepped back a bit and stammered I was sorry - that I’d heard Paul went in to the theater but maybe he left. (There were three other sets of doors.) I remember smelling a lot of alcohol on her.

The woman stepped quickly back up to me, in the darkness, and said “That’s okay. Do you know who I am?” And before I could answer she said quickly “I’m Nancy Pelosi - Paul’s mom.”

I backed away again, now in to the curtains on the opposite side of the stage from which we entered, and stammered “Oh. Hi. Uhh...”

And again she quickly closed the distance with me, this time extending her hand. But instead of reaching for my hand as if to shake it, she touched my chest. Like full on laid her hand against me. Then she said “Well aren’t you a dear. Just who are you?”

I felt REALLY uneasy about this, so I decided to be a smart guy. I said “Oh I’m Paul’s friend.” And ducked to the right toward the back wall of the theater. As I moved I said “Sorry, I have to go.” And ran for the door through which we originally entered. Nancy half-yelled “Hey! Come back here!” And something else I couldn’t make out, but I was gone.

At the time I didn’t say anything as I was caught up in the whole ‘running around the school with a bunch of kids at night’ thing. But it was definitely disturbing. I later saw Pelosi many times at other events and parties, and always kept my distance. And she was always drinking. Once I actually did see her have to be somewhat forcefully removed and mostly carried from a party and poured in to a waiting car. She was such a social climbing ass. Still is.