Traveling on foot for a quarter of a mile in a seedy part of town at the ungodly hour of 2 a.m. should have raised red flags for George Emmel, but the brawny, bushy autograph collector was determined to crash the Hollywood bash to pin down celebrities and snag some special keepsakes.
Approaching the nightclub, Emmel stumbled upon a live outdoor show: boozers brawling in the street, girls gone wacko throwing punches and pulling hair, and other insane persons scooping up bystanders and slam-dunking them on top of cars. Suddenly the sound of gunfire rang out in Emmel’s ears. To avoid the various altercations (and especially the bullets), our innocent hero headed for the hills. No celebrity was seen in that twilight hour, and no hills were in plain view, either, so Emmel did the only thing he could do: he hurled himself over a nearby wall. During his rapid descent and just before hearing his large frame thump onto the pavement below, Emmel thought to himself, “Oh, if only I hadn’t followed that darn paparazzi photographer here.” The frazzled collector finally rose to his feet, and with a beardful of gravel, dust and concrete chunks, turned and saw a man lying in the gutter clutching his abdomen – the victim’s blood pouring onto the asphalt. Nearly a decade later, an emotionally recuperated George Emmel remains the avid autograph hound.
At a time when privacy rights issues are continually broached in the news where celebrities ar concerned and particularly following the death of Princess Dianna in 1997, one question surfaces: Are autograph collectors fans or stalkers? “I don’t followcelebrities home,” says Emmel. “I just waylay them as they come out of public places. If they don’t want to grant an autograph or take a picture with me, I won’t persist or make them mad, not if I can help it.” His phrase “not if I can help it” takes on a deeper meaning as his story unfolds……………………..