Feature: Wednesday, June 01, 2005
Wirt Norris, left, and defense attorney Leonard Schilling walk outside the courtroom where Norris admitted his guilt. (Phot by Vishal Malhotra)
Attorney Bill Kirkman said the Hallman family was ‘happy and relieved.’ (Photo by Vishal Malhotra)
Handwritten notes about Will Hallman’s call to Wirt Norris. (Courtesy of Tarrant County District Attorney)
After years of denials, Norris admitted his guilt to one charge. (Photo by Vishal Malhotra)
Wirt Norris’ ‘Playboy’ collection was seized by investigators. (Courtesy of Tarrant County District Attorney)
A Long and Twisted Road

Wirt Norris’ guilty plea left much untold in a case that scarred Fort Worth society.


When Nancy Hallman finally figured out what was wrong with her only son, Will, she couldn’t believe the audacity of what had been done. A man who had helped her family sell one house and buy another, who placed a sign in her front yard with his name on it, who did business with her husband’s law firm, who seemed to know and be accepted by many of her friends and acquaintances and who seemed to take a genuine benevolent interest in her child, had snared and sexually molested the 12-year-old and sent him reeling through drugs, depression, and an attempted suicide.
Nor did she believe Will was the first boy this man had touched. He was in his 60s, and she suspected his hands must have been on other boys as well, perhaps many others. She strained to remember the names of families the man had mentioned, the names of their children, people he was close to. And then she picked up the phone and began making calls, horrible calls no mother should ever have to make, telling people who must have surely thought she was crazy what had happened to her son and warning that their own boys might have been victims as well.
But she knew the calls weren’t enough. She wanted the entire city to know what the man had done. What she decided on was crude and inflammatory, but it proved to be very effective. She went to her computer and typed out the blunt words that accused the man of being a “sexual predator” who shamed his victims into secrecy. And in this message, a message that in the long run changed the molester’s world, she used some of the very words he had told her son: “Don’t tell your parents what we guys do at the lake.’’ She printed it out, went to Kinko’s and made 200 copies. And then she drove past the man’s church, by the country clubs he frequented, and through the neighborhoods in which he made his fortune, letting the fliers flutter through the open sunroof of her station wagon.
She had told no one what she was planning to do. “I didn’t want to be talked out of it’’ she later said. “I didn’t want to go against [her husband’s] wishes.’’ When it was over, though, she told her husband, an attorney who represents the billionaire Bass family’s interests, and he was aghast. He was convinced she had broken some law, that she might be sued for slander. Fine, she thought, let him sue. She didn’t care what happened as long as she was able to end the silence and sound a warning that the man whom she had welcomed into her home should never again be trusted around anyone’s child.
Several hundred miles and a world away, on a dirt road behind the Devil’s Backbone Tavern in the Texas Hill Country, two brothers from Fort Worth were arguing. Tim Kaastad and his younger brother, Rolf, were both drinking beer. Rolf had been strung out on drugs and alcohol since he was a teen-ager, had been in repeated trouble with the law, and now he was drinking two at a time, doing his dead-level best to forget for a while the demons that had hounded him for the past 20 years. The brothers’ tempers flared, and a drunken fistfight ensued. “I don’t know what your problem is,’’ Tim yelled, “I can’t help you. There’s nothing I can do.’’
Then Rolf broke down: “I’ll tell you something that happened to me,’’ he said, and it came out like an eruption. He said he had been molested, by a man from the family’s church who taught young boys to dive at Panther Boys Club, and his life had careened out of control ever since. Like Nancy Hallman had been, Tim was devastated — and then furious. And his anger, as hers had, focused on the need to expose the man who had hurt a family member.
So Tim, in the weeks after his brother’s revelation, turned to his computer and wrote the first of many letters he would send to preachers, government officials, civil leaders, and journalists, blanketing Fort Worth with his outrage just as Hallman had done with her fliers, demanding that someone stop the man from laying waste to another young life. And then he took his letters and some lame responses he’d received and posted them on a web page he created and named after the man who almost ruined his brother’s life. And with that, the tide began to turn — still slowly, but now perceptibly.
Nancy Hallman and Tim Kaastad eventually figured out that they were chasing the same man. And a few weeks ago, four years after they had begun their pursuit of justice, Wirt Malcolm Norris, a tottering old man in bad health, stood before a judge in open court and admitted what he’s spent a small fortune in legal fees denying since the fliers and the letters started. Now accused by more than a dozen men of molestations going back almost 50 years, Norris pleaded guilty on the eve of trial to a single charge of indecent exposure involving Will Hallman, was placed on probation for 10 years, fined $5,000, and required to register as a sex offender. In exchange, the Hallman family dropped their civil lawsuit against Norris. And the former Olympic diving coach was allowed to return to the comfortable surroundings of his home on Eagle Mountain Lake, where Will Hallman and others said they had been molested. The case seemed to end not with a bang, but a bargain.
The Norris story, however, is neither over nor has it been fully told. Records obtained under the Texas public information act and numerous interviews reveal new chapters in the Norris tale. How, for example, health concerns on both sides, an accuser who changed his story, a judge who kept everyone guessing, and a high-stakes stare-down between the Hallmans and Norris all seemed to play a role in the plea bargain.
The records also show that law enforcement had been receiving complaints for more than a decade before opening an investigation on Norris — but nothing they felt they could act on until Will Hallman came along. And then there are the letters that Will’s father, attorney William P. Hallman, sent to Norris, letting him know that his secret was out and that other accusers were breaking their silence.
The accusers who have come forward since the Hallmans and the Kaastads began their campaign against Norris, all but two of whose allegations are too old to prosecute, 0 represent only a fraction of those Norris may have abused. Previously undisclosed records document as many as 10 other possible victims — including several popular kids from affluent families, who, according to various accounts, seem to have been used by Norris as unwitting magnets to lure other boys into his grasp. In one of the strangest turns in the case, the names of two of those boys turned up in a document found in Norris’ house — his will.
Experts who study pedophiles believe only one in five victims of male-on-male sexual abuse ever speak out, said prosecutor Amy Collum. “Probably 80 to 90 percent will never come forward and tell you what happened,’’ she said.
Whether another victim within the statute of limitations might one day come forward, making another prosecution of Norris possible, is not known. But some of Norris’ accusers and their families are actively searching for a man they believe is out there — a more recent victim who could send Norris to prison. It’s a possibility Nancy Hallman seemed to allude to in a recent posting on www.wirtnorris.com.
“There may be a few more people left who could bring charges against Wirt Norris if they decided to take that route,’’ she wrote. “If that happens, I know we will all step up and help, just the way you all did for my family.’’

Will Hallman first encountered the man who would abuse him in the late spring of 1995. His parents had their eye on a larger home and had hired Norris to help them with the purchase.
“Wirt was at the house one day and I introduced Will to him,’’ Nancy wrote in a note to prosecutors. “Wirt said he’d like to have Will out to the lake to go on his boat and learn how to water ski. Will thought he’d like to do that.’’
Nancy walked through Norris’ house on Will’s first visit there and found nothing to set off alarms: a living room with a view of the lake, exercise equipment, two or three other boys roaming around. Over the course of the summer, Will was at Norris’ house perhaps half a dozen times, and seemed to enjoy each visit, until the last one. When Norris pulled up at the Hallman house to drop Will off for that last time, he and Will were staring straight ahead and Will seemed to be “as far over against the passenger side door as he could get,’’ Nancy remembers. He came into the house quickly and went straight to his room. On that day, Will was 12, a sixth-grader whose life would soon begin to dissolve into drugs, emotional problems, and strange behavior. He kept what had happened that day secret until he was 16, when he confided in a girlfriend. Two years later, as a senior in high school, he told his mom and then, finally, his father.
“When I found out what Wirt had done to Will, I had read enough to know that pedophiles usually molest lots of children and that they do it over their entire lifetime,’’ Nancy said in a written statement to Fort Worth Weekly. “I realized Wirt must have been quite practiced as a child molester before he met Will.’’
The family’s decision to sue Norris and file criminal charges wasn’t made immediately.
“Right at the beginning, we asked Will to consider what he would like to do about this, if anything. We described the choices as we saw them, legally and personally. He didn’t decide to take legal action right away, but he did say that he wanted us to tell everyone we knew about Wirt so he couldn’t hurt any more kids.’’
And that, the family did with a vengeance.
Eventually, each of the three Hallmans would confront Norris — Nancy with her telephone calls and fliers, Hallman with a series of letters, and Will in the lawsuit, the criminal case, and a telephone call.
“It wasn’t an option to do nothing,’’ Nancy said. “I don’t think Will, Bill, or I could have ever gotten over this if we hadn’t fought it with every means possible.’’
William P. Hallman’s first letter to Norris, a copy of which is contained in the district attorney’s file, brims with ire. Writing in the month after Will’s revelation to his parents, Hallman told Norris: “If I ever see you, in any context or in any location whatsoever — whether at a large party or other public gathering, a performance or other activity, in a restaurant, in a business office, on the street or in a private home, I will immediate tell everyone present, in no uncertain terms, exactly what you are and what you have done.’’
The following month, Hallman let Norris know that other accusers were coming forward. “As I suspected, once your conduct was made public, others became willing — and even eager — to talk,’’ he wrote in another letter. “My periodic correspondence will serve to remind you that for the remainder of your miserable life neither I nor anyone else I know will ever forget what you have done or what you are.’’
Finally, in November 2001, he told Norris the family was considering taking unspecified legal action against him. In May 2002, Hallman told the Tarrant County Sheriff’s Department that Norris had molested his son, but that Will, who was being treated for depression, was not yet well enough to make a formal complaint. By Christmas, Will was healthy enough to talk to investigators.
In a written statement, also contained in sheriff’s department records, Will said that Norris showed him Playboy magazines, let him sip beer, and boasted of how he had first had sex when he was about Will’s age. He cussed and talked of sex — all the while telling Will not to tell his parents about their conversations, grooming him to keep ever-greater secrets. “I don’t think I want your dad knowing I’m getting you into this kind of stuff,’’ he recalled Norris saying. Finally, one day at the boat club, Norris told Will he had received a new Playboy movie in the mail, and Will snapped at the bait. Could he see it? The two returned to Norris’ house, Norris put the movie into a tape player, and the old man and the young boy lay down on his bed and watched.
“He pulled his shorts down and started masturbating in front me,’’ Will told investigators. “I was nervous so I got down on the floor and started masturbating ’cause I thought that’s what he expected me to do. Eventually, I got back on the bed, at which time he leaned over and held my penis with his left hand and put a vibrator on it with his right hand.’’
With Will’s statement as a starting point, Tarrant County sheriff’s deputies began an investigation; they quickly learned that it was going to be a difficult case. They located numerous other accusers, but they were all outside the statute of limitations, and many carried emotional or legal baggage stemming from the abuse. Still others whom police believed had been molested maintained a stony silence.
“Our guys really did a good investigative job under really tough circumstances,’’ said Sheriff Dee Anderson. “I was pleased they were able to piece together as much information as they did considering how much time had passed and some of the hurdles they had to overcome. It was the kind of thing that would have been easy to say, ‘This is not do-able.’ There are people who would have walked away.’’
When sheriff’s investigators arrested Norris at his home on Feb 13, 2003, they found some of the items his accusers said Norris has used to groom and abuse them — a breast-shaped mug and shelves crammed full of Playboy magazines — but not the hardcore porn or vibrators some said he used. They also found — and photographed — handwritten notes, presumably Norris’, of a telephone call he recently had received.
“This is Will Hallman,” the notes state. “I want to know what you think about this stuff.’’
“I think it’s crappy,’’ Norris responds. “I don’t know what you’re accusing me of.’’
“You touched my penis with a vibrator.’’
“No I did not.”
“Are you denying it.”
“Yes I am”
“I’m taking you down, and we are getting your house.’’
At that point, according to the notes, Norris said he was ending the conversation and hung up the phone.

In law enforcement records, Norris’ accusers say they were pressured into participating in scores of sex acts, from fondling to various forms of penetration — all the while being reassured that everything they were doing was normal.
By comparison, the single crime to which Norris actually pleaded guilty was one of the least egregious — an indecency charge stemming from Hallman’s complaint.
Similarly, the only other person who has made an allegation against Norris within the statute of limitations also appeared — at least initially — to have avoided the most severe forms of abuse. That man’s name first surfaced on Tim Kaastad’s web site. An acquaintance from the man’s childhood e-mailed Kaastad with a suspicion that the man, now a military pilot in his late 20s, might have been molested by Norris. Kaastad passed the information along to Hallman’s civil attorney, Bill Kirkman.
Up to that point, the Hallmans had been frustrated by the fact that, in the growing line of Norris’ accusers, none had made an allegation of abuse recent enough to support a prosecution. If the pilot’s story was true, it meant Will might not have to tackle Norris alone.
Kirkman interviewed the acquaintance. “She told me about the boy’s continual references to Norris in the late 1980s when he was 8 or 9 years old, and the weird situations he was in’’ Kirkman said. “I was convinced that the man was a victim.’’
But time was running out. The man would soon turn 28, and if he didn’t tell his story before his birthday, he’d be just another so-called extraneous accuser outside the statute of limitations.
Kirkman located the pilot at a military base on the East Coast and sent his private investigator, Jim Mathine, to get his story. Mathine found the man at home, but he wouldn’t tell the investigator what, if anything, had happened between him and Norris.
“I asked him point-blank if he was molested by Wirt Norris,’’ Mathine recalled. “He wouldn’t affirm or deny that it happened.’’
Before returning to Fort Worth, Mathine had one more door to knock on — that of another man rumored to have been molested by Norris and one of the men named in Norris’ will.
Only Kirkman knew Mathine’s plans. Nonetheless, when he arrived — unannounced, he thought — at the second man’s house, it became clear the man had somehow been warned. The man said he had not been molested by Norris and let slip that he’d gotten a call from the pilot informing him that a private investigator was in the area snooping around on the Norris case.
Why the pilot would have tipped the second man to Mathine’s presence is not known. Although Kirkman and Mathine knew the two lived in the same area, they had no reason to think that they knew each other.
Mathine returned to Fort Worth empty-handed but told Kirkman he thought the pilot might open up if someone from law enforcement showed up. Kirkman took his suspicions to prosecutor Alan Levy, and the man was subpoenaed to testify before a grand jury investigating the Norris case. What the man said behind closed doors remains a secret, but the grand jury indicted Norris again, on a charge not of molesting the pilot, but of attempting to molest him.
If something more had happened, the pilot wasn’t yet ready to share it with strangers.

News of the plea bargain in the Norris case was supposed to remain secret until it was announced in court on May 11. But word leaked out days before that a deal had been brokered . By the time Judge Wayne Salvant arrived to take the plea, everyone in the courtroom had a rough idea of what was about to happen — but not why. It wasn’t clear what had budged both sides from their long-held positions.
Norris and the Hallman family had been waging war against each other since early 2001, when Will told his parents that Norris has molested him. The Hallmans were convinced Norris was responsible for their son’s downward spiral through depression and drug use; Norris was angered that the family’s accusations had ruined his reputation.
As the trial drew near, the Hallmans grew increasingly concerned about how Will would respond to what they anticipated would be a grueling cross-examination by Norris’ defense team. If there was a way the family could extract a confession from Norris without putting Will at risk, they were ready to explore it. The family was concerned that the defense would rip the boy’s life apart.
“We were fully prepared to vigorously defend out client,’’ said Norris defense attorney Mike Ware. “We had plenty of ammunition.’’
Will’s father, meanwhile, drew a line in the sand. In a letter to Levy, William P. Hallman set a deadline for Norris to plead guilty or face an all-out legal war. Only a plea of guilty would lead the Hallmans to drop their civil lawsuit against Norris. Only a plea of guilty, Hallman vowed, would stop him from forcing Norris’ sisters, friends, and those he suspected of lying about Norris’ activities to answer questions under oath in depositions. And as if to answer a charge raised by Norris’ defense team, Hallman pledged to donate any money he won from Norris to charities benefiting abused children. Ware, however, said afterward that he was not aware of the ultimatum.
Judge Salvant also pressured both sides to settle the case by keeping everyone guessing about just how much he would let a jury hear. Prosecutors wanted Salvant to let a jury to hear from 15 or more witnesses who said Norris had also abused them — and had previewed their sordid testimony to the judge during a three-day hearing in January. Norris’ defense team wanted Salvant to bar all of that testimony and let the jury hear only about Will Hallman. But Salvant still had not ruled on the issue — and indicated he might not rule until after the trial began, leaving both sides uncertain about whether Norris would face a courtroom full of accusers or a single, fragile young man.
Both sides remained in the dark, not knowing whether the judge “would let all, some, or none’’ of the extraneous witnesses to testify, Levy said. Both sides would have to “tiptoe through the trial,’’ fellow prosecutor Collum said. Without a ruling, the trial was a crap shoot.
On the same day that Hallman wrote his ultimatum, prosecutors revealed in court papers that their case against Norris had taken another turn — the pilot who said Norris had only attempted to molest him had changed his story. The aviator now told prosecutors that Norris had repeatedly enticed him into sessions of mutual fondling and oral sex between 1986 and 1988 — an admission he hoped he could keep from becoming public knowledge or filtering back to his buddies in the macho world of fighter pilots.
The change was significant because it showed that Will wasn’t the only person to accuse Norris of molestation in recent years — but it had come too late. The pilot’s original account of attempted molestation was within the stature of limitations. But he was now 28, and his altered account of actual molestation could not be used for a new indictment. It might, however, have been used in a trial on the attempted molestation he previously admitted, or as additional ammunition in Will’s case.
In the end, Norris pleaded guilty to exposing himself to Will, and all other criminal charges against him were dropped. He also avoided prison. And as long as he stays out of trouble, the only time he will have spent behind bars will be the 93 minutes that records show he waited to be released on bond from the Tarrant County jail following his arrest three years ago.
Both the Hallmans left the courthouse on May 11 without comment. And Will, who has never spoken at length about the case or attended any of the pre-trial hearings, remained hundreds of miles away in Utah at a substance abuse treatment facility.
Flanked by his lawyers, Norris too left the courthouse without making a statement. Before the guilty plea, he had maintained his innocence of all the accusations against him. Since then, he has declined a request for comment -- but presumably still denies the other accusations. The single guilty plea, Ware said, doesn’t say anything about the other allegations.
Outside the courtroom, Levy said the plea bargain was satisfactory to the only two men whose cases who fell within the statute of limitations — Hallman and the pilot, neither of whom were eager to testify. “We owed it to them to try to get a resolution that was satisfactory,’’ he told a throng of journalists. There would have been no case at all, he said, if the Hallman family had remained silent as other families have. Kirkman said his clients were “happy and relieved’’ and that he hopes Norris “in the twilight of his years’’ will seek professional help.
Will’s family said they had won an important victory by forcing Norris to acknowledge exposing himself, while sparing their troubled son, now 22, the trauma of a grueling cross-examination.
“Jail time isn’t the only reward possible in a case like this,’’ Nancy Hallman wrote in a note posted on the Kaastad web site. “Wirt Norris had to sit in court and listen to all of you tell the truth. If this hadn’t become public, he might have lived out his life happily, with all his secrets safely hidden. He’s had to come face to face with himself. What could be more horrible? You and I can look in the mirror and know we did what we could.’’

If forcing Norris to plead guilty was a victory for the Hallmans, the terms of probation seemed to some to be a victory for Norris. Not only would he remain free, but the type of probation he received, known as deferred adjudication, means that if he stays out of trouble for 10 years, his record won’t include a conviction.
Salvant ordered Norris to abstain from alcohol, permit probation officers in his home once a month, avoid contact with his accusers, complete 160 hours of unspecified community service, and stay at least 1,000 feet away from any place where children commonly gather. The swimming pools where he coached young boys to dive and taught the children of Fort Worth to swim are now forbidden ground.
What wasn’t clear during the 13-minute hearing was how Norris would be monitored while on probation. Would he be required to wear an electronic ankle monitor, attend sex offender counseling, or be hooked up to a penile plethysmograph, the instrument used to determine what arouses sex offenders?
Levy told reporters Norris won’t be required to wear a monitor. And when the paperwork documenting the terms of his probation became available a few days later, it became clear that Norris also escaped counseling, diagnostic testing, or having to pay for medical treatment or counseling for the victim in the case. Those sections of the standard sex-offender probation form — along with a requirement that Norris “assume responsibility for your offense’’ — were marked out with three wavy lines.
Levy said such measures are designed for offenders who stand a chance of being rehabilitated. “I don’t care about rehabilitating him,’’ the prosecutor said. “He’s 77. It’s not like he’s going to change his sexual preference. It would just be a waste of our money and time.’’
Norris’ lead defense attorney called the plea bargain a compromise.
“Not talking about this case in particular, but any case ... if you walk out of the courtroom with your client, it’s always a win of sorts,’’ Ware said. “And, of course, we were glad to get the civil case off his back as well.’’
Although Ware said the defense would “stand by the guilty plea,’’ he also said Norris’ poor health was the “determining factor in our decision to accept a plea offer.’’
“We were concerned that a trial would prove life-threatening for Mr. Norris,’’ he said. “I felt very confident about the outcome of the trial. I was much less confident about the impact of a stressful trial on Mr. Norris’ health.’’
For the Kaastad family, Norris seemed to have beaten the system again.
Tim Kaastad, who had dogged officials to take action against Norris for years, ridiculed the plea bargain on his web site with a headline that proclaimed “Norris wins” and the assertion that Fort Worth has become “a safe haven for child molesters.’’ (In the weeks since the plea bargain, Kaastad replaced his invective with a plea for possible victims within the statute of limitations to contact him or the Tarrant County sheriff’s office.)
Robert Haskins, the general manager of the Kaastad family business, said in an interview that letting Norris off with probation sends the wrong signal to other molesters and their victims. “What happened in the courts is now going to make it even harder for somebody to come forward,’’ he said. “To see this guy basically get off with nothing — it’s ridiculously light. It’s so light it’s almost unbelievable. There’s pedophiles watching this, and I think there’s going to be an increase in that activity.’’
Reaction from other accusers ranged from rage to relief. One man, who said he was repeatedly abused by Norris in the late 1970s, was adamant that prison and poverty were the only appropriate sentence for a man who destroyed so many lives.
“I think he should be in jail, period, for whatever sentence is the maximum,’’ he said. “I think he should be ripped apart, financially. He used his wealth to draw in the kids anyway ... . I don’t care if he pleaded guilty all year long. He fucked up my life.’’
Others said that while they think Norris should be in prison, they understand why the Hallmans chose not to put Will through the ordeal of a trial. “It’s not a sure bet had we gone to trial that we would have gotten a conviction,’’ said one man who had told his story to investigators. “You would have sacrificed Will Hallman. We’ve sacrificed enough people to Wirt Norris.’’
Another said Norris has been “socially castrated.’’ Norris, he said, will eventually pay for his crimes. “But whether it’s on this earth or the afterlife — that’s my question.”
Yet another said he was relieved that he would not have to testify and undergo grilling by Norris’ defenders. “There’s no mystery or gray area with this guy anymore,’’ he said. “I feel a sense of satisfaction. ... I can put it back where it needs to be.’’

In their statements to law enforcement, Norris’ accusers said the former Olympic diving coach used his connections to Fort Worth’s best-known families, his memberships in prestigious clubs, and service on a county crime commission to put parents at ease when he offered to coach boys as divers for the Panther Boys Club, teach them to water ski behind his boat, or take them on out-of-town dive meets. He had an eye for prepubescent vulnerability, they said, for young boys from broken homes, for kids craving adult attention. They said he befriended them with sips of booze, cigarettes, sexual confidences, and access to his porn collection.
But perhaps the strangest story hinted at in the law enforcement records is that of three men — we’ll call them Andy, Bob, and Cliff — whose names occur again and again in the allegations about Norris. Repeatedly, accusers have told investigators that they saw Norris abuse two of the boys and suspect he also abused the third. The accusers say Norris used the three as unknowing lures to draw other young boys into his net.
“Wirt made a point of telling me the names of popular kids around the Boat Club that he had been with the same way he had been with me,’’ one said.
Andy and Bob have told the Weekly that they were not abused by Norris and know nothing of him abusing other boys. The Weekly could not reach Cliff — the same man who was warned by the fighter pilot about the private investigator’s impending visit and who told the PI he was not abused.
One of Norris’ accusers told investigators that he and his best friend, Andy, often spent the night with Norris in Norris’ bed and that he had witnessed Andy and Norris “do sex acts.”
Another man’s sister told investigators that Wirt had boasted at the Fort Worth Boat Club about how Andy “loved to take bubble baths when he was at Wirt’s house and ‘how cuddly’ Andy was when they slept together.” In a third account, a man who grew up in Norris’ neighborhood and also knew Andy said he saw Norris “wrap the flaps of his trench coat’’ around the boy. “I saw the two of them feeling each other off,’’ he said. “This happened nearly every time the two of them were at the bus stop together.’’
An accuser who was molested in the late 1970s said that Bob introduced him to Norris and that the three of them went water skiing on Wirt’s boat. “After skiing for a couple of hours, Mr. Norris stopped the boat in an isolated area, and dropped anchor,’’ the accuser said. “We all went down to the hull near the front of the boat. I remember Mr. Norris having a duffle bag with several pornographic magazines inside.
“We were all looking at magazines and masturbating,’’ he told investigators. “I remember looking at Mr. Norris and noticing that he wasn’t looking at magazines anymore, rather he was watching us while he masturbated.’’
Another man who told of being molested by Norris in the mid-1970s recalled a road trip with Norris, Cliff, and another diver. “I remember Mr. Norris taking us one at a time into his room. When I went to his room, Mr. Norris began jacking me off and we performed oral sex on each other. By then it was routine. I’m sure when [Cliff and the other diver] went into the room with Mr. Norris the same things occurred with them.’’ Another accuser told police that Norris bragged about having taught Cliff to masturbate. (Click here to continue...)

Email this Article...

Back to Top

Copyright 2002 to 2018 FW Weekly.
3311 Hamilton Ave. Fort Worth, TX 76107
Phone: (817) 321-9700 - Fax: (817) 335-9575 - Email Contact
Archive System by PrimeSite Web Solutions