RIP Sunni Welles

RIP Sunni Welles

I first got to know Sunni Welles in September 2018.

She was a 17-year-old virgin when she said Cosby drugged and raped her in 1965 and had flown to Norristown, Pennsylvania for Bill Cosby’s sentencing hearing even though she was on a fixed income and had to create a GoFundMe account to raise money to pay for it. “I had to be there for closure,” she later told me. “I had to see his face.”

Most of his accusers weren’t allowed to testify so Jennifer Storm, then the state’s victim advocate, set up a separate event afterward so they could deliver their victim-impact statements. The press conference was several blocks away from the courthouse and it was pouring down rain but a group of us made it there so we could hear what they had to say.

It should have been a triumphant day for Sunni. Cosby had been sentenced to three to ten years in prison for drugging and sexually assaulting former Temple employee Andrea Constand. He was handcuffed and escorted out of the courtroom by sheriff’s deputies so he could go straight to prison, a surreal moment for so many of us who’d watched him thumb his nose at the system for decades. But the two-day hearing had stirred up some deep emotions in Sunni. She knew she couldn’t handle being in the same room with Cosby so she’d arranged to watch the proceedings from a satellite courtroom. Even that wasn’t enough distance from him. After the court adjourned for lunch on the second day, she began dissociating.

“I stood up and I literally basically fell to my knees,” she later told me.  “Somebody shoved a chair under me.  I was hyperventilating.  I was literally back in the moment. I was tearful and crying.  I had gone back to that moment of being 17 and knowing what he was doing to me.  I literally was there at that time. And I remember Lili [Bernard] kneeling by my side and holding my hand and telling me it was going to be okay; that she had gone through that too. I couldn’t breathe. I couldn't talk. I thought I was going to die in that moment. I really did. And then I remember just all of these women surrounding me.”

The Cosby survivors helped guide her to a private room, where they gave her some yogurt and something to drink to help calm her. Sunni called her therapist in California and told him she’d just had a meltdown. “She talked me down,” she said. “I can’t remember specifics but everyone was so kind that within half an hour, 45 minutes I was able to function” and go back for the remainder of the hearing.

Even on this day, a day when she’d finally seen justice for one of his victims if not for herself, she was still struggling with the demons his abuse left in its wake. Sunni couldn’t even bear to say his name all these years later so instead she referred to him by his initials, B.C. when she spoke for more than 20 minutes at that press conference set up by Jennifer Storm. She directed her comments about the devastation he wreaked upon her life to him, revealing her struggles with post traumatic stress disorder, her night terrors and her inability to sustain a loving relationship. “You have, in essence, destroyed so much of my life,” she said, fighting off tears. “Not only who I am at 70 years old but who I was and could have been or would have become in this world.”

It was one of the most heartbreaking stories told that day.

Sunni was a gifted singer who first met Cosby through her mother, who was also her manager and a friend of Cosby’s. Sunni felt safe with him, something so many of Cosby’s 60-plus known accusers have said. He invited her to Shelly’s Manne Hole, a famous jazz club in Los Angeles at the time, saying she could sing for him on the way and then listen to some good jazz. She didn’t drink alcohol so she ordered a soda but when Shelly Manne, the owner, sent over a complimentary bottle of champagne, she said Cosby insisted she take a few sips. That’s the last thing she remembered. The next morning she woke up, naked and alone, in an apartment she’d never been to before. When she later confronted Cosby he told her she’d had too much to drink and passed out so he took her there to sleep it off. She believed him. After all, he was her mother’s friend. She’d known him for years.

To make it up to her, Cosby invited her to dinner at The Magic Castle, a famous Hollywood dinner club where guests could try to communicate with the dead in a seance room named after famed magician Harry Houdini and filled with his memorabilia. “This time I won’t give you any champagne,” he joked. She accepted. She once again ordered a soda, then took a few sips. The next thing she remembers is waking up the next morning in that same apartment, alone and naked. This time she knew what he’d done. She told her mother but Cosby was a powerful man in Hollywood and her mother was a single mom who worried she would lose her job if Sunni went to the police. And who would believe her anyway? “I couldn’t take the chance of ruining my mother’s life,” she said. So she didn’t report the assaults to law enforcement. Her mother never spoke to Cosby again and Sunni told a few friends what he’d done but it was another 50 years before she spoke publicly about it at a March 27, 2015 press conference with lawyer Gloria Allred.

I was able to include some of Sunni’s moving victim-impact statement in the epilogue of my book CHASING COSBY and was thrilled when she agreed to be interviewed for the podcast based on my book. With 60-plus known accusers it was hard deciding who to ask but since Sunni was his earliest known victim we felt she was essential to the story. We set up eleven days of interviews with 33 people in Los Angeles and Philadelphia in June 2019. That’s when I got my first glimpse of the deep friendships some of the Cosby survivors, as they call themselves, have formed. Sunni was getting her makeup done when Lili Bernard arrived. Their faces lit up and Lili flew into Sunni’s arms.

Later in the day, Lise Lotte-Lublin, another Cosby survivor, arrived for her interview and got the same, heartfelt greeting. When it was time for Lise to go to the airport to fly home, Sunni insisted on driving her there herself so they could spend a little more time together. These interviews were emotional and draining but the utter joy Lili, Lise and Sunni took in seeing each other again had all of us smiling and laughing.

We weren’t able to include much of Sunni’s story in the podcast, much to my dismay. I hate asking people to bare their souls only to then have to tell them we weren’t able to use the interview. It’s callous and heartless and is all too common in the journalism world but it was something I always did my best to prevent. This, I had no control over. Alex Zaslow, the producer, and I had to fight to even keep her in. Sunni was so gracious about it and understood, however. This was never about getting attention for her. She was a kind, gentle soul who only spoke up to exorcise her own demons and support the other Cosby accusers.

I got to see Sunni one more time when she came to our CHASING COSBY LIVE event in Los Angeles on February 26, 2020, which became a bonus episode for the podcast. The survivors showed up en masse at that event, supporting each other as they always have, proving once again they are a force to be reckoned with.

The last time I spoke to Sunni was in May 2020. She’d been staying home since the pandemic hit, but her spirits were good. We were chatting while I walked one of my dogs when she got distracted by the sounds of birds singing in the background. “That’s so beautiful,” she said. “We just don’t have that many birds around here anymore since we got 5g. Could you send me a recording of them?” I was so touched that something so simple, something that most of us take for granted, seemed to bring her such happiness that I sent her three.

We kept in touch via text after that as she worked on something she couldn’t talk about, but which she hoped would bring some measure of justice for herself and her “sister survivors,” as she called them.

I’d just been thinking about her in early July, realizing I hadn’t heard from her in a while, when Therese Serignese, one of the Cosby survivors, told me Sunni was dying. Sunni’s son had found her unconscious in her apartment. She had lung cancer and wasn’t expected to survive or even regain consciousness. I was devastated. All I could think about is how much she wanted justice. Now she’d never get it. Her son thought it was a blessing in a way, Therese said, because she wasn’t aware of Cosby’s release, which happened a few days after she collapsed. He’s just not sure how she would have handled that news. I’m not either.

Sunni died yesterday. She was 72 years old. While I’m sad that she didn’t ever get that justice she so yearned for, I’m glad that at least she was spared knowing Cosby beat the system once again.

RIP, Sunni Welles. I don’t think I’ll ever hear birds singing again without thinking of you.

Nicki Weisensee Egan is the author of the book CHASING COSBY, host and executive producer of the podcast based on the book, coauthor of VICTIM F and an investigative journalist. You can see more of her work at  https://www.nicoleweisenseeegan.com/

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