18-year-old John and his new wife Gisela Zacher. A return to the world and a marriage that didn’t last.
 
He was a beautiful child of money who at 16 turned his back on privilege and attempted to live the life of a free-spirit. He hung out with Warhol, partied in discos and laid his sleeping bag down in crash pads and communes. The press called him “the golden hippie.” But it was 1973, four years after Altamont had laid waste to the Aquarian Age and sent hippies scattering in all directions like cockroaches bumrushed by the harsh reality of a kitchen light. None-the-less John Paul Getty III swore he’d never end up being an uptight greedy asshole like his billionaire father and grandfather had become. He’d rather be a fuck-up, a loser, anything other than being attached to the sickness that he saw money and greed bring upon his family. And young John almost got his wish until the day the money he loathed became the link between his living or dying.

Tragedy struck the 16 year-old when he was held ransom by Italian kidnappers who sliced off his right ear when his miserly grandfather refused to pay the £17million ransom. John Paul was held captive by a gang, believed to be the Mafia, in Rome for five months. It was only when the captors cut off his ear and sent it to an Italian newspaper that his grandfather agreed to pay any money. The teenager’s life spiraled out of control after the incident which eventually led to him suffering a drug-induced stroke which left him paralyzed and almost blind.

Of course young John’s life spun out of control. His father and grandfather let him rot in a cave for five months in Italy’s back country. Instead of the billionaire Gettys coughing up the money to free their son, they stalled and then refused to pay any ransom at all. These were the fucking Gettys! One of the wealthiest oil families on earth. After getting a shitload of bad press for not showing any compassion for their son, they reconsidered and negotiated the ransom down to a few million dollars, a mere drop in the bucket of their fortunes. But even then they continued to stall, holding out, hoping to strike an even better deal. Finally the kidnappers desperately agreed to a couple million, a figure the Getty’s accountant assured them would be tax deductible. They’d won at a big stakes version of Let’s Make A Deal in which their bloodied and tortured son was behind one of the doors. They’d got the “golden hippie” back for a bargain. But John the third was no longer golden. He was barely alive.

John, the beautiful boy, was a shattered kid at 17. He felt worthless because in his families eyes he was worthless…not in some theoretical way, but in reality. His sense of self was eviscerated. He was bargain basement goods. He returned to his old haunts, the discos, communes and whatever scenes from his past that might revive the old magic but nothing came of it. He had gone from gorgeous to being a media freak with serious issues. He was troubled with nightmares and a marriage that eventually failed. He had a son Balthazar he could barely raise. Relationships were strained. Friendships lost. He just couldn’t get back into trusting anyone or feeling anything. Over the years he became more and more dependent on drugs and alcohol to keep the pain at bay. He got old fast. Unable to work,unable to care for himself, John was at the mercy of a family who seemed to loathe him. His mother tried to do what she could, but she was powerless.

Even in death, John’s grandfather was a vengeful bastard. When the senior Getty died at the age of 83 in 1976, the founder of Getty Oil left nothing in his will for his grandson.

John’s health continued to deteriorate and he finally died this past Saturday at the age of 54. He was crippled, addicted to drugs and required round the clock assistance. Right up to the end he had to beg his father, who was worth billions, to help with his medical expenses. But his father refused and his son had to take him to court just to get some basic help. You see the only power people with money have is their money. And money is the standard by which they judge human worth. The “golden hippie” in rejecting their value system had to be punished.

“The golden hippie” discovered the hard way that his instincts about the corruptive power of money were right on. Greed and selfishness is at the heart of wealth, there’s little room for love there. John Paul Getty III had dreams of being a free soul, of living a life unfettered by the anxieties and restraints of the money driven life. But instead he became its victim. He died young, withered and in pain, pushed around in a wheel chair by people who probably didn’t give a shit. For all intents and purposes, John Paul Getty III never left that cave in Italy.