Dawn Schiller: The Road Through Wonderland: Surviving John Holmes

When I met Dawn Schiller on the set of Wonderland, I was amazed at her happy, warm smile and her loving attention to her young daughter. Nothing I saw in her even hinted at the terrible torture I knew she had endured with John Holmes. I liked her instantly. It was a very challenging role, playing someone so lost and destructive, and desperate. As I prepared to portray a man who caused her so much pain, she consistently proved that love heals all wounds—ALL. DAWN was and is an inspiration to me, as she will be to you. There is nothing in this world we cannot overcome, if we trust in love. Dawn bravely watched each scene with nods of approval for both Kate Bosworth and myself. Bravo, Dawn, for your courage and grace to share your story with the world. It’s a healing message for all the women and girls in the world who have not yet found their strength. It’s there, and Dawn’s story proves it. Her story is a miracle. She is a miracle. I am proud to know her.

I was nineteen years old when we embarked on the cinematic journey of Wonderland. I didn’t really know what to expect from Dawn Schiller when we first met, but I assumed she would carry an obvious pain about her. She had been four years younger than I was at the time when she first met John Holmes and fell prey to his severe manipulation and abuse. I could not imagine how someone so young could be involved in such a horrifying situation as she had been and remain intact.

But broken she was not. Wise. Knowing. But certainly not a fragile victim. I was immediately struck by a certain purity about her. Her clear blue eyes shone at me with such clarity, warmth, and openness. We spoke for hours on end and in detail about her experience in Wonderland. Although she admitted how difficult it was, I was awed at the strength it took to confront these horrifying memories. The sort of thoughts one desperately tries to lock away and forget, never looking back.

The story of the Wonderland murders is remembered by most as a dark, drug-fueled tragedy. A moment in time which marked the screeching halt to an excessive, out-of-control high most thought would never end. In 1981, four people were found murdered, beaten to death with lead pipes in their home late at night on a long, twisting road called Wonderland Avenue. As news began to trickle in, there was immediate mention of drugs. Shots of bloodied sheets over bodies wheeled out on gurneys in the early morning Los Angeles light. Then whispers of the club owner Eddie Nash. And then, stranger still, of the infamous porn star named John Holmes.

As I immersed myself in the depths of this film, I began to realize we were not only retelling a story filled with incomprehensible evil but one of hope. Of overcoming the darkest of circumstances and surviving. This is her story.

Dawn, I thank you for sharing your story not only with me, but with the many people who will now take strength from your brutal honesty. And who will be encouraged to not only survive but, like you, to thrive.

My name is Dawn Schiller. Some of you know me as the girl played by Kate Bosworth in the 2003 film Wonderland. I am not that girl.

When James Cox, the director, told me he’d cut the scene from the movie in which John beat me after selling me off to Eddie Nash for drugs, I felt as if John were choking the air out of me again.

Why would James do this? He was honest with me: It was because the audience couldn’t handle seeing John hit me. They wouldn’t “like” John or be sympathetic toward him.

I went home after the premiere and listened. I waited to hear comments from my family and friends. Mostly, no one said anything, which told me a lot.

And my family? Well, in general, they just nodded and said, “That’s not what I remember.” Buried in their memory was the fear of losing me—their daughter, sister, aunt, and niece. Of never seeing me again. Of finding out I had been beaten and raped, devastated by drugs, or sliced up on the streets because John had control of me.

They remember a very different John.

Where was the story of how I had escaped with my life from a man who was so self-seeking and ravaged?

I never wanted to tell this story… about my past with John… about my “secrets.” It took a private investigator who found me some sixteen years after the murders to convince me to tell my tale. This was the catalyst for me to dredge up so much pain.

Ultimately, it was my voice—my essence—that John stole from me, and I wanted it back. These many long years after John, I have my voice again.

John did a lot of things to me—broke my bones, my heart, my innocence, my skin—but in the end, from where I stand today, he did a lot more. Through his name, the king unknowingly gave me the power to use my voice—to speak out and raise hope for many other thrown away and abused young women and girls.

If you thought you knew the story of Wonderland—if you thought you knew who John Holmes was—think again. I am here to tell you the story of those dark years in Hollywood behind the legends that others have tried to tell. This is the story of someone real who was there. This is my story, written for my daughter, Jade, and revealed to give a voice to those who were silenced and will never have the chance to be heard.

Times are tough in Carol City. Our neighborhood is going to shit. Blacks and Cubans are in a constant battle for superiority. Everything is a reason to fight. It sucks being white in this neighborhood. We are the minority and the excuse for any black or Cuban to start a war. Here, only one thing is certain: the constant feeling of no hope.

We rebel, us whites. We are actually a mix of everything other than black or Cuban. Smoking pot helps take us out of the reality of this place, and ditching school seems the only way to avoid a daily ass-kicking. On a lucky night, we might score an illegal downer or two from a girlfriend’s older brother. At least we think this makes us lucky. Neighborhood rivals lie in wait for our lunch money and anything else we have in our pockets, so for protection, we pick a different street corner where we can hang out together each night.