In a blog post on his personal website, Joseph recalls a time when he regarded Bill as his idol, but he also reveals that it was “common knowledge” on set that Bill was a ladies’ man who regularly engaged in extra-marital affairs.
While some will find fault with Joseph’s word choice at times, Of Course Bill Cosby Is Guilty! is a very interesting read.
According to RWS:
…so, in 1989, my attitude was that if Bill was cheating on Camille, I am fairly certain Camille knew. Hey, if everyone who claimed to know actually knew, then certainly Camille knew, and had long ago made her peace with it. At any rate, it was none of my business. I never saw Bill engage in any inappropriate behavior. I certainly never saw him drug anyone. So, all I have is the same gossip as everyone else.
As the accusations began to increase, I became increasingly disturbed. I was fairly certain that some of the women were lying through their teeth, but certainly not all of them. Discovering that the man you idolize may be a serial rapist is a bit traumatic. I don’t imagine it is anything near to the trauma of the alleged victims. Nevertheless, I found it unsettling.
I was particularly shaken the afternoon I bumped into an old friend while shopping. The controversy was at its height. The story of Bill was all over the press. I hadn’t seen this woman for many years. Back in the day, I had asked her out on a few dates, but was relegated to the friend zone so fast it made my ears wiggle. We had kept in touch for a few years, but our lives had taken different paths. Over the years, I had watched with a passive interest as her career grew, so I was excited to see her and catch up a bit.
As we spoke, I recalled that Bill had been her mentor (play father, teacher…something. I couldn’t quite recall what it was). The question popped into my head.
“Hey, do you mind if I ask you something?”
She looked at me and then asked, “Is it going to make me cry?”
I was a bit taken aback. “Well,” I stammered. “I hope it doesn’t make you cry.”
She smiled. “Go ahead and ask your question.”
“Back in the day,” I started. “I remember that you knew Bill – that he was like your mentor or something. Did he ever…”
Before I finished the sentence, she began to cry.
We spent the next two hours sitting on a bench talking. Through tears, she told me her story. She cursed him for violating both her trust and her body. She cursed herself for not being smarter, and for degrading herself in pursuit of success. I listened patiently. As she began to run out of steam, she turned to me. “Do you believe me?”
“Yes.” I said. “I believe you.”
“Why?” she asked.
“Because I know you can be a bit ditzy, but I don’t believe that you are crazy and only a crazy person would sit with me all this time and share a fantasy.”
I am not sure if our conversation was cathartic for her. I know it was heart-breaking for me.