On 28. May 1978, Peter Criss and stage manager Fritz Postlethwaite crashed the leased Porsche car in Marina del Rey, California. This happened the day after the wrap of filming “Kiss Meets The Phantom Of The Park”. Rumors has it that Postlethwaite was passenger, but took the blame for a drunk Criss.
Peter Criss:
“On the way back to the car, Fritz asked me if he could drive. Hey, it was his birthday, so I said, “Why not?” He got behind the wheel and put on his seat belt. Me, I didn’t buckle up. We started driving. Deb’s place was only about five minutes away from the hotel, but we seemed to be driving in circles and it was taking forever to get back. It turned out that we had driven all the way to Marina del Rey. The sun was coming up and Fritz turned onto Sepulveda Boulevard and gunned that car up to ninety miles per hour. I popped an Eagles cassette into the player and “Hotel California” started to play.
The next thing I remember was seeing the white light. But it wasn’t just any white light—it was the warmest, deepest, most breathtakingly pure white light I had ever seen in my life. I felt totally comfortable and at peace. And I seemed to be moving toward that light, getting closer and closer, and the thought of that was making me feel better than any drug I had ever taken.
I was almost totally bathed in that white light when | began to hear some noises. They seemed indistinct at first, but then I thought that I heard my name being repeated over and over. And in the background, I could hear horrific screaming and the words “Oh, God, help me. Help me. I can’t take the pain!”
Finally I opened my eyes and saw four doctors staring into my face. I was really pissed off that they had prevented me from going to heaven.
“Take it easy, Mr. Criss,” one of the doctors said. “You’re in a hospital and youre in good hands. But you got a little bent out of shape in that accident.”
Then they filled me in. Fritz had been doing ninety miles per hour when he hit two telephone poles, knocked down a mailbox, and sideswiped four cars before ramming into a huge pole that caused the engine to blow up. The explosion threw me through the windshield and fifty feet into the air, at which point I went face-first into a curb in a fetal position. When the cops arrived at the scene, they didn’t even know I was there— they thought I was just some debris on the side of the road. When they finally found me, my heart had stopped and they had to revive me on the scene. As it was, I had broken all my ribs and all of my fingers when I went though the windshield, as well as busting my nose and sustaining a concussion.
I was the lucky one. Fritz had been belted in and he got caught in the inferno. He had burns over 70 percent of his body, which was why he was in such agony. He was so badly burnt that they had to give him morphine through the bottom of his feet. Bill Aucoin was one of the first civilians on the scene and he took pictures of the wreck but would never show them to me. They were too horrific.”
– “Make up to breakup: My life in and out of Kiss” by Peter Criss
Lydia Criss:
“By sunrise, the card game was over and Peter had won $5,500. He woke me up and told me to hold $5,000 of his money. It was Fritz Postlethwaite’s birthday and Peter wanted to take Fritz for a ride in his $65,000 rented Porsche. I took the money and went back to sleep. About two hours later, Sean Delaney woke me up looking for Peter. I explained to him where Peter was and went back to sleep. About 15 minutes after that, Sean called again and asked if I had heard from Bill Aucoin. I told him no, and I was starting to get suspicious. I called Bill’s room and there was no answer. I called the road manager, Mr. Tiny, and he said he didn’t know anything. So I waited and waited. Finally, Bill Aucoin called to tell me that Peter and Fritz had been in an accident and that they were in a hospital in Marina del Rey. The story I was told was that since it was Fritz’s birthday, Peter let him drive the Porsche, and because they were both wasted, Fritz was going 90 mph on Sepulveda Boulevard at around 6:00 A.M. They hit a tree and Peter went flying through the windshield while Fritz was pinned behind the wheel when the car caught on fire and he got third- degree burns. Supposedly, Peter was thrown so far from the car that when the paramedics arrived they thought he was dead. Bill Aucoin managed to get there quickly enough to be able to dispose of any pills Peter had on him, and the cocaine just disintegrated from the heat of the fire. Ironically, Peter had $501 on him and because of the way he had the money rolled, only the corner of the one-dollar bill burned. When Bill called, he asked me if Mr. Tiny had been in touch and I said, “No, Why?” Apparently, he was supposed to tell me of the accident and hadn’t. Instead, Mr. Tiny packed his bags, left the hotel. and quit his job as KISS’s road manager, without ever telling anyone. I really don’t even know if he was ever heard from after that morning. I rushed to the hospital, only to find both Peter and Fritz in emergency room hospital beds, laughing hysterically. I thought, well they’re really not hurt that badly, but I was later told that they were in a state of shock and didn’t even remember me being in the emergency room. It wasn’t until 1980, when I ran into Ace at Trax during a Skatt Bros. gig, that I learned it was Peter who had crashed the Porsche, not Fritz. Ace told me he lost respect for Peter knowing that he made Fritz take the blame for the accident. I was shocked and sick to my stomach that I had never stopped to question it before. In retrospect, I realized that not only had it been kept quiet among the people close to the band, but it had also never made any sort of splash in the press either. Without knowing for certain, I can speculate that it was to avoid a lawsuit from the insurance company or car rental place, and the fact that a network movie and four solo albums were coming up would have given Bill Aucoin and Neil Bogart ample reason to kill any negative news about the band.”
– “Sealed With A Kiss” by Lydia Criss
Kenny Kerner:
RS: If you would have taken the two best cuts from each album, you would have had a great KISS album.
PC: Absolutely. And I think and I truly believe that that was the cancer that fuckin’ broke this band up. That was the start of the cancer. I agree with Ace 100 percent. That’s what broke us up. Because by then we were away from one another, we were totally apart. I was in a terrible car accident which never made the papers. That will show you the power of the music industry. You can keep things out of the papers if you really want to. I was in a very bad car wreck with a road manager of mine. I blew up a 928 Porsche. I went through the window, I broke my nose, I lost vision in my right eye, I had to get plastic surgery on my forehead and around my face, I broke all my ribs and fingers.
RS: How did the car crash happen?
PC: We were all fucked up. We’d just finished a movie and we were celebrating. Fritz, the road manager, wanted to drive. It was Fritz’s birthday, and we’d just finished a card game and he says, “Let’s go for a drive in your new car.” I said, “Sure man,” and he said “Let me drive, it’s my birthday.” I said, “Okay, you drive,” and the last thing I remember was putting in a cassette of the Eagles and I saw this great bright light and the next thing I know I’m hearing my own voice from a distance and I’m looking up with one eye, just blown all over the place, looking up at a bunch of doctors. I was pronounced dead. They found me 100 feet from the car. The car blew up. Fritz burned right up to his neck–he got stuck behind the wheel and they had to pry him out.
RS: Was he alive?
PC: Yes. He was alive, but he’ll be badly scarred for the rest of his life. If I would have been buckled in, I would have been dead, they told me. I would have gotten stuck because I’m much bigger than Fritz. The doctors said they had to inject my heart with adrenalin to get it going again. I was really lucky. I had a lot of time to think in that hospital when I was busted up.
– “Peter Criss’ life after KISS: A Rock Horror Story about sex, drugs and blackmail!” by Kenny Kerner.
On 28. May 1978, Peter Criss and stage manager Fritz Postlethwaite crashed the leased Porsche car in Marina del Rey, California. This happened the day after the wrap of filming “Kiss Meets The Phantom Of The Park”. Rumors has it that Postlethwaite was passenger, but took the blame for a drunk Criss.
Peter Criss:
“On the way back to the car, Fritz asked me if he could drive. Hey, it was his birthday, so I said, “Why not?” He got behind the wheel and put on his seat belt. Me, I didn’t buckle up. We started driving. Deb’s place was only about five minutes away from the hotel, but we seemed to be driving in circles and it was taking forever to get back. It turned out that we had driven all the way to Marina del Rey. The sun was coming up and Fritz turned onto Sepulveda Boulevard and gunned that car up to ninety miles per hour. I popped an Eagles cassette into the player and “Hotel California” started to play.
The next thing I remember was seeing the white light. But it wasn’t just any white light—it was the warmest, deepest, most breathtakingly pure white light I had ever seen in my life. I felt totally comfortable and at peace. And I seemed to be moving toward that light, getting closer and closer, and the thought of that was making me feel better than any drug I had ever taken.
I was almost totally bathed in that white light when | began to hear some noises. They seemed indistinct at first, but then I thought that I heard my name being repeated over and over. And in the background, I could hear horrific screaming and the words “Oh, God, help me. Help me. I can’t take the pain!”
Finally I opened my eyes and saw four doctors staring into my face. I was really pissed off that they had prevented me from going to heaven.
“Take it easy, Mr. Criss,” one of the doctors said. “You’re in a hospital and youre in good hands. But you got a little bent out of shape in that accident.”
Then they filled me in. Fritz had been doing ninety miles per hour when he hit two telephone poles, knocked down a mailbox, and sideswiped four cars before ramming into a huge pole that caused the engine to blow up. The explosion threw me through the windshield and fifty feet into the air, at which point I went face-first into a curb in a fetal position. When the cops arrived at the scene, they didn’t even know I was there— they thought I was just some debris on the side of the road. When they finally found me, my heart had stopped and they had to revive me on the scene. As it was, I had broken all my ribs and all of my fingers when I went though the windshield, as well as busting my nose and sustaining a concussion.
I was the lucky one. Fritz had been belted in and he got caught in the inferno. He had burns over 70 percent of his body, which was why he was in such agony. He was so badly burnt that they had to give him morphine through the bottom of his feet. Bill Aucoin was one of the first civilians on the scene and he took pictures of the wreck but would never show them to me. They were too horrific.”
– “Make up to breakup: My life in and out of Kiss” by Peter Criss
Lydia Criss:
“By sunrise, the card game was over and Peter had won $5,500. He woke me up and told me to hold $5,000 of his money. It was Fritz Postlethwaite’s birthday and Peter wanted to take Fritz for a ride in his $65,000 rented Porsche. I took the money and went back to sleep. About two hours later, Sean Delaney woke me up looking for Peter. I explained to him where Peter was and went back to sleep. About 15 minutes after that, Sean called again and asked if I had heard from Bill Aucoin. I told him no, and I was starting to get suspicious. I called Bill’s room and there was no answer. I called the road manager, Mr. Tiny, and he said he didn’t know anything. So I waited and waited. Finally, Bill Aucoin called to tell me that Peter and Fritz had been in an accident and that they were in a hospital in Marina del Rey. The story I was told was that since it was Fritz’s birthday, Peter let him drive the Porsche, and because they were both wasted, Fritz was going 90 mph on Sepulveda Boulevard at around 6:00 A.M. They hit a tree and Peter went flying through the windshield while Fritz was pinned behind the wheel when the car caught on fire and he got third- degree burns. Supposedly, Peter was thrown so far from the car that when the paramedics arrived they thought he was dead. Bill Aucoin managed to get there quickly enough to be able to dispose of any pills Peter had on him, and the cocaine just disintegrated from the heat of the fire. Ironically, Peter had $501 on him and because of the way he had the money rolled, only the corner of the one-dollar bill burned. When Bill called, he asked me if Mr. Tiny had been in touch and I said, “No, Why?” Apparently, he was supposed to tell me of the accident and hadn’t. Instead, Mr. Tiny packed his bags, left the hotel. and quit his job as KISS’s road manager, without ever telling anyone. I really don’t even know if he was ever heard from after that morning. I rushed to the hospital, only to find both Peter and Fritz in emergency room hospital beds, laughing hysterically. I thought, well they’re really not hurt that badly, but I was later told that they were in a state of shock and didn’t even remember me being in the emergency room. It wasn’t until 1980, when I ran into Ace at Trax during a Skatt Bros. gig, that I learned it was Peter who had crashed the Porsche, not Fritz. Ace told me he lost respect for Peter knowing that he made Fritz take the blame for the accident. I was shocked and sick to my stomach that I had never stopped to question it before. In retrospect, I realized that not only had it been kept quiet among the people close to the band, but it had also never made any sort of splash in the press either. Without knowing for certain, I can speculate that it was to avoid a lawsuit from the insurance company or car rental place, and the fact that a network movie and four solo albums were coming up would have given Bill Aucoin and Neil Bogart ample reason to kill any negative news about the band.”
– “Sealed With A Kiss” by Lydia Criss
Kenny Kerner:
RS: If you would have taken the two best cuts from each album, you would have had a great KISS album.
PC: Absolutely. And I think and I truly believe that that was the cancer that fuckin’ broke this band up. That was the start of the cancer. I agree with Ace 100 percent. That’s what broke us up. Because by then we were away from one another, we were totally apart. I was in a terrible car accident which never made the papers. That will show you the power of the music industry. You can keep things out of the papers if you really want to. I was in a very bad car wreck with a road manager of mine. I blew up a 928 Porsche. I went through the window, I broke my nose, I lost vision in my right eye, I had to get plastic surgery on my forehead and around my face, I broke all my ribs and fingers.
RS: How did the car crash happen?
PC: We were all fucked up. We’d just finished a movie and we were celebrating. Fritz, the road manager, wanted to drive. It was Fritz’s birthday, and we’d just finished a card game and he says, “Let’s go for a drive in your new car.” I said, “Sure man,” and he said “Let me drive, it’s my birthday.” I said, “Okay, you drive,” and the last thing I remember was putting in a cassette of the Eagles and I saw this great bright light and the next thing I know I’m hearing my own voice from a distance and I’m looking up with one eye, just blown all over the place, looking up at a bunch of doctors. I was pronounced dead. They found me 100 feet from the car. The car blew up. Fritz burned right up to his neck–he got stuck behind the wheel and they had to pry him out.
RS: Was he alive?
PC: Yes. He was alive, but he’ll be badly scarred for the rest of his life. If I would have been buckled in, I would have been dead, they told me. I would have gotten stuck because I’m much bigger than Fritz. The doctors said they had to inject my heart with adrenalin to get it going again. I was really lucky. I had a lot of time to think in that hospital when I was busted up.
– “Peter Criss’ life after KISS: A Rock Horror Story about sex, drugs and blackmail!” by Kenny Kerner.