 |  | WEB EXCLUSIVE |
| | Vincent Pontius shows off a picture of his sister, who was first among them to speak to their father, Art Bell. | Lost in Space
The unacknowledged son of one of America’s most popular talk show hosts works in the mailroom at Philadelphia magazine.  by Steve Volk

As a kid Vincent Pontius watched In Search of … religiously, reveling
in the show’s mixture of myth and mystery. Did the lost city of Atlantis ever exist? How
were the pyramids of Egypt built? Were growing reports of UFO-related abductions real?
What about unknown animals, like Bigfoot or the Loch Ness monster? What happens to us
when we die?
Pontius ate it all up and asked for seconds. He read fantasy novels and later, as an
adult, followed The X-Files right down to the final, almost universally
unwatched episodes.
Exploring the fantastic offered refuge to a kid whose life was always overly
complicated.
He and his younger sister grew up without knowing their birth father, a man who left
when Pontius was just 3 years old. His mother remarried about two years later but that
man left when Pontius was around 13.
Issues? Pontius had them. Trust issues. Abandonment issues. He always needed to be in
a relationship. He just couldn’t maintain one. Both he and his sister say they were
sexually abused in the years after their birth father left. (The person they allege
preyed upon them isn’t named anywhere in this article because no criminal charges have
been filed.) Only the last few years have brought him any peace.
Two years ago he discovered he had a 12-year-old daughter of his own. He’s now 41,
married, the father of a little girl he didn’t know existed until recently, and he and
his wife are expecting a child of their own in January. He supervises the mailroom at
Philadelphia magazine, tucked away in a windowless office on the
36th floor of a sleek city office tower that boasts views stretching miles.
His interest in the paranormal continues unabated. In some ways that facet of his
personality may seem more important now than it did when he was a child. Because about
10 years ago his sister made contact with their birth father, who was by then the king
of the paranormal—radio talk show legend Art Bell.
Bell founded the Coast to Coast radio show, specializing in
paranormal topics, in the ’90s, tapping into an interest in UFOs and ghosts that few
before knew existed on quite this scale. Though he’s been in a kind of semiretirement
for several years now, broadcasting mostly on the weekends, the Coast
brand has continued on, hosted by George Noory and available in Philadelphia on 1210
WPHT-AM from 2 to 5 a.m. weekdays. The show’s website lists roughly 520 affiliates,
literally extending from coast to coast, uniting millions of listeners around the
subject of the paranormal, and potentially casting some light on Pontius’ paranormal
fixation.
“I don’t know,” says Pontius. “Does it explain anything?”
He finds it hard to believe his father’s interests could’ve been passed on to him—by
nature or nurture. Strangely enough, his sister harbors the same interests, saying she
“got used to being the only girl in the science-fiction aisle at the bookstore.”
“I have no memory of him whatsoever,” says Vincent Pontius. “The first time I ever saw
him was on the Larry King show, after my sister had found him.”
 | | When Lisa Minei contacted Bell a second time, he sent a letter along with a copy of his autobiography. |
According to Pontius’ mother Sachiko Toguchi, when they married she was 22 and Bell
was 20. They met in Japan, where Bell served in the Air Force, and moved back to the
States after marrying. Vincent Michael Bell was born in 1965, in Newark, N.J., but the
trio moved back to Okinawa when Toguchi grew homesick.
The marriage lasted only a few years. Toguchi says that after she gave birth to
Vincent’s sister Lisa, Bell told her he was leaving.
“He told me he thought he could [be a husband and father], but he couldn’t do it,”
says Sachiko Toguchi during a phone interview from Camp Hill, Pa. “Having two kids, a
wife, he was not up to it. It was too much for him. I think he was [caught between]
being a boy and a man.”
Bell, for his part, acknowledges fathering both Vincent, whom he calls “Michael,” and
Lisa during a phone interview with PW. He declines to talk about why
the relationship ended. “That was 40 years ago,” he says. “I’m not sure what purpose it
serves.”
Toguchi was left to take care of two small children on her own. When she remarried
about two years later, her new husband adopted the kids, freeing Bell from any legal
obligations. Bell started living the life that made him famous.
His online bio says he was a licensed FCC technician by age 13, and that as a DJ in
Okinawa he landed in the Guinness Book of Records for a
116-hour-15-minute solo broadcast marathon. (The bio makes no mention of a wife or
children at that time.)
After leaving Toguchi, he went on to broadcast during the early ’90s on the overnight
shift for KDWN in Las Vegas, which reached 13 Western states, and finally he took his
show national—first with Chancellor Broadcasting Company and now with Premiere Radio
Networks. His easy, just-folks broadcasting style and strange subject matter proved a
potent commercial combination, winning him 14 million listeners in his late-night radio
slot.
Today the 62-year-old Bell is still associated with Coast to Coast,
the show that made him so famous. He also co-wrote the book The Coming Global
Superstorm with author and self-proclaimed UFO abductee Whitley Strieber,
which spawned the global warming disaster movie The Day After Tomorrow.
He had another son, Art Bell IV, with his second wife, whom he divorced before
marrying his third wife of 15 years, Ramona, who died suddenly in January of last year
after an asthma attack.
He remarried less than four months later after what he told his listeners was an
Internet video-conferencing romance with a Filipina woman roughly 40 years his junior.
He remains married to Airyn Ruiz Bell, who recently gave birth to a girl, the couple’s
first child.
Pontius is conversant in all these facts, including what he imagines to be his
father’s considerable wealth. But money isn’t something he says he’s ever thought about
in relation to Art Bell. “I don’t want money,” he said when PW first
interviewed him. “I really don’t. I would like to meet him, and hear him explain his
side of things. All I want is to meet my father face to face.”
PW was tipped off to this story by a friend of Pontius. That
source said the now 41-year-old man was interested in telling his story. A lot happened
in the ensuing weeks.
For one thing, Bell retired. He announced on his Sun., July 1 show that he’d continue
to work as a fill-in host and occasionally broadcast special programs but would no
longer act as weekend host.
It also became clear that Pontius’ sister Lisa didn’t care to speak to her father.
Lisa Minei says she’s been in contact with Bell before. The now
38-year-old mother of two first contacted Bell when she was 10 years old.
“My mother had never tried to hide anything,” says Minei, “but she never talked about
him much. So I guess I found out his name from her, and found him on my own.”
Toguchi says she also spoke to Bell briefly by phone at the time too. “He said his
mother and father were still alive,” she says. “He asked if [Vincent] still had
allergies, that sort of thing.”
She remembers the conversation as “polite,” but says she didn’t talk to him for very
long. “We have a saying in Japan,” she says. “When someone leaves, do not follow him. It
means to move forward.”
When Bell left, she burned her photographs of him. “I threw away everything related to
him,” she says.
Later, when Minei turned 28, she says she sent a letter to Bell, who had by then
achieved fame. He responded with a one-page letter. It reads: “Many years ago I spoke
with your mom. She told me that you and [Vincent] had been adopted by the man who had
married her. It seemed better to let your family remain undisturbed. She told me he was
a wonderful man who was father to you and Michael … ”
He also sent a signed copy of his autobiography The Art of Talk. The
inscription reads: “To Lisa, Here’s the ‘rest of the story.’”
She says they emailed each other for a short time after that, but he didn’t seem
particularly enthused about starting a relationship. She soon stopped emailing him.
“He never wrote and said, ‘Hey, why’d you stop emailing me?’” she says. “So I figured
he didn’t really want to be in touch.”
She didn’t save copies of the emails.
“I feel like I tried, and if he was interested in starting a relationship he would
have,” she says in a phone interview from Boston. “I’m more interested now on my
brother’s behalf.”
In the couple of months since PW first contacted Pontius,
the son has finally spoken to his birth father. For him, the conversation didn’t go
quite as he’d hoped. “I just didn’t get the sense that he was really all that
interested,” says Pontius.
Bell has also spoken to PW several times, and though he’s requested
most of the interviews remain off the record, he did leave several phone messages for
Pontius after that first conversation, a fact Pontius confirms. He says his son seemed
“angry.”
Bell himself says he was shaken up by the news that his birth children had been
sexually abused. “I was horrified,” says Bell. “All of this is news to me. When I did
talk to Vincent, the first 80 percent of our conversation was about the abuse. I just
couldn’t believe it because I had the opposite information. And I think what happened to
him has a lot to do with his anger.”
He says he’d stayed away from his ex-wife and kids because the information he had is
that they were happy without him. “I just figured everyone had gotten on with their
lives,” says Bell. “Until I got a phone call from [PW], the last
conversation I had with my ex-wife was that she had remarried and that it would be best
if I just let them be.”
Pontius says he walked around for many years with a hole inside him he couldn’t fill.
Bell raised him until he was 3 years old, an age when a child’s parents pretty much
constitute their whole world.
Myrna Shure, a professor of child psychology at Drexel University and the author of
Thinking Parent, Thinking Child, says that on one hand a child
might be “better off” if a man capable of leaving him and never speaking to him again
for 38 years is simply out of his life for good. But having Bell around the first three
years of his life means that Pontius went through his most formative years with a man
who suddenly disappeared.
“He suffered a loss,” she says, “and in a normal divorce situation the child can be
told, ‘This is about Mommy and Daddy. They can’t live together, but Mommy still loves
you, Daddy still loves you.’ But if Daddy isn’t there, you can’t say that. The child’s
going to think, ‘Daddy doesn’t love me, and that’s why he’s not coming back.’”
For Pontius, finding out who his father was led to some surreally difficult moments.
He recalls receiving a phone call from his sister in 1999, telling him their father was
going to be on CNN’s Larry King Live. “It was the first time I ever got
to see him move and talk,” he says. “And I—I taped it, and I watched everything about
him—his mannerisms, the sound of his voice—trying to see if I could see anything of
myself in him.”
Could he? “I don’t know,” he says. “You tell me.”
Still a sci-fi fan, he was also a regular viewer of the TV show
Millennium when Bell turned up on an episode playing himself. “I didn’t
know he was going to be on,” says Pontius, “and all of a sudden there he was.”
That appearance affected him in ways he can’t describe. “I didn’t sleep,” he says.
“For days. I was just … I don’t know what I was feeling. It messed me up.”
Seeing the father he’d never met on a TV series he regularly watched was something he
just couldn’t process. He says he made his own attempts to contact Bell over the years
with no success. He tried emailing him through the Coast to Coast
website, and received no reply, which is perhaps not surprising given the sheer
volume of emails Bell says he receives.
Then in May of last year he sent a letter to Bell at his address in Pahrump, Nev. Bell
was living in Manila in the Philippines with his new wife Airyn at the time (The talk
show host moved his wife to the U.S. in December) and says he never received it.
In the end, after PW contacted Bell, the talk show host immediately
suggested this reporter give his son his phone number. Both say the ensuing conversation
involved a lot of talk about what had happened 40 years ago; what led to the dissolution
of the marriage with Toguchi; and why Bell had never made further contact with his
children on his own.
“I started the conversation by saying, ‘This is Sachiko’s son,’” recalls Pontius of
his single conversation with Bell. “I felt so disconnected by not having known Art
senior, and I guess I feel liberated because not having heard from him haunted me for,
like, 35 years. I saw flashes of emotion from him here and there. Maybe the first 20
minutes I sensed a little guilt, but he never apologized for leaving me, my mother and
my sister.”
Bell says, “I guess I wasn’t ready to apologize for something I didn’t know I had
done. I’m not the kind of person who abandons people, and I didn’t think I had abandoned
them.”
While the hour-long conversation between father and son hasn’t led to any ongoing
relationship, at least for now, Pontius calls the experience cathartic. “I’d been
waiting so long to talk to him,” he says, “for some kind of acknowledgement from him,
and now after that one conversation I feel like I can move on with my life.”
So why go public now? “Because it’s the truth,” says Pontius.
His sister echoes those sentiments.
It’s been hard for both of them to see every last bio of Bell exclude their existence.
So telling their story is a chance, at long last, to claim their full identities. And
they also believe they have a deeper responsibility to come forward.
The two subjects—Art Bell and sexual abuse—are unrelated, yet they know their birth
father’s fame gives them a moment in the spotlight to talk about being the victims of
sexual abuse.
“Unless people speak out about it,” says Minei, “this stigma will always be there. But
I was abused. I have nothing to be ashamed of.”
Pontius feels the same way, seizing on this moment of attention to make a larger
point.
“Because there’s such a societal stigma attached to child abuse and nobody talks about
it,” says Pontius, “people instead choose to bury it underneath a lot of shit. I think
it’s important for people to know we’re regular people, and yes, this thing happened to
us, and it shaped us and it made us who we are. It was tough, but ultimately it made us
stronger. In my case, I never let go of my resolve that I wasn’t going to let this thing
destroy me.”
In addition to the drama of the father he never knew, his life took another dramatic
turn just a few years ago, when he was living in Boston. “I’d been in a relationship
with someone here in Philadelphia many years ago,” says Pontius, “and when we broke up I
didn’t know it, but she was pregnant with my daughter, and she never told me.”
He was contacted by a third party, who told him he had a then 12-year-old daughter,
Elysia. He admits he “freaked out.”
“I wanted to run,” he says, “but I didn’t want to be like my father.”
Today he coparents that daughter and is married to another woman with a child on the
way. “That’s the other reason I want to come forward,” he says. “Because with all the
troubles I had, I still reached a place where—all the good things people dream about, I
got. I got married. I’m going to have a kid. It’s important for people to know not
everyone succumbs to this kind of thing. They survive and go on with their lives.”
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