VACAVILLE, Nov. 1 – Charles Manson, the convicted mass murderer who many have called the monster of the century, is now quietly changing his image in a dramatic step towards parole.

Although it’s a chilling thought to most, he’s been granted a change in his prison status. And, after 13 years in isolation, locked up in a six-by-eight-foot maximum-security cell, Manson has been moved to the mainline prison population and is no longer classed, as he once was, as schizophrenic.

Knowing the stringent system of evaluations at the California Medical Facility at Vacaville, where Manson has been incarcerated, I decided to see this change for myself.

I first met Manson a year ago in the production of a television special for NBC with Tom Snyder. At the time, Manson was housed in the Willis Unit of the prison, where he was continuously monitored and every step was carefully controlled.

Manson is serving time for nine counts of both murder and conspiracy to murder.

On January 25, 1971, a jury found him guilty of what many consider some of the most bizarre murders in history. In a period of one month, between July 27 and August 26, 1969, at least nine people were slaughtered and Manson and what became known as “his family” were convicted. The victims included actress Sharon Tate (then married to film director Roman Polanski ) her hairdresser Jay Sebring, coffee heiress Abigail Folger, her boyfriend Voytek Frykowski, and Steven Parent, a visitor. Also murdered were Rosemary and Leno LaBianca, grocery store owners, Donald Shea and Gary Hinman.

Manson was sentenced to the gas chamber and taken to death row at San Quentin prison, but soon after, California abolished the death penalty and changed his sentence to life in prison.

He had been transferred from Folsom Prison to the California Medical Facility in 1976 because he had “psychiatrically deteriorated.” At times he was non-verbal, and at times he had violent outbursts. Doctors administered intensive drug therapy — the equivalent to powerful shock treatment — to calm him down. But even clear of all medication for the last five years, his stay at Willis Unit had been marked by events that included breaking up his guitar and setting his own mattress on fire. In 1978, Manson became eligible for parole and once a year the parole board reviews his case. Until now, he has boycotted his hearings, and in 1979 he even sent parole board pieces of a Monopoly game along with play money.

During my earlier interview with him, I watched Manson rant and rave, talk in riddles, refuse to sit in a chair, pace the floor, walk in circles, make strange faces into the camera and act like a creature from outer space.

So it was with great personal skepticism that I went to view Manson’s alleged “change” for myself.

Before visiting Manson, I spoke with prison official Donald Custard, who was aware of the controversy Manson’s move would cause.

But probably most outspoken is Mrs. Doris Tate, mother of victim Sharon Tate. She has gathered more than 10,000 signatures to protest any parole possibility when he comes up for his annual hearing this month.

As Custard opened Manson’s file in front of me, he said, “The decision to move Manson was not taken lightly. Manson has been pressing us to move him into the general prison population for years, but we didn’t do it.”

“Finally, the institutional classification committee agreed that he had improved, that he was ready to be released to the mainline population.”

When I actually saw Manson, I was stricken by the drastic change in his appearance. His shoulder-length hair was trimmed, his unruly beard was groomed and his eyes looked clearer. Gone was the rage and anger I encountered during the taping of the documentary. Instead, on the day of our visit he sat down in the visitation area and invited me to play poker. I agreed, hoping to engage him in a less formal conversation. I had learned from my documentary experience with Manson that he will not conduct a regular interview. Answering questions one on one makes him feel that he is subordinating himself to the interviewer — and Manson does not like to subordinate himself to anyone.

So more casually, I asked him about his change in prison status and if he wanted to take his next parole hearing seriously. He leaned across the table, stared deep into my eyes and said, “You want me to be serious? I’ve gone through a lot of changes. I’ve been carrying a heavy load all these years. I’ve been up and down the halls of this nut house long enough. I want to get out of here and I’m dead serious. You can tell Roman Polanski I never killed his old lady.

“They’re not letting me out now. I know that, but I’ll get out of here some day. In fact, I want you to get me out of here. Get me out of here,” he repeated to me throughout the interview.

Manson still won’t let anyone pin him down, but it’s apparent that there is a change in attitude. He’s been on a work assignment in the chapel. But he says that that hasn’t changed him either.

“The only ones who found God were the ones who did the murders,” he quipped.

That jab was directed at former “family members” Susan Atkins and Tex Watson, who have written books in jail about their religious conversions.

In “the yard” the day I visited, Manson had aligned himself with fellow inmate Marcus Schmidt. Schmidt and Manson make an unusual acquaintance, since Manson’s celebrity status was feared by some prison officials to be a potential problem. But Manson, who has spent 33 of his 47 years in institutions, knows how to stay clear of that kind of trouble.

Manson said, “This guy (Schmidt) walked up to me and said, ‘I hear you think you’re the devil.’ I said, ‘I don’t think I’m the devil. The district attorney said I was the devil.’ Schmidt said, ‘I know you ain’t him.’ I said, “How do you know?’ And he said, ‘Because I am.’ I said, ‘Okay.’

Together, on this average day, Manson and Schmidt discussed three things: parole, sex and how they got locked up for crimes they say they never committed. Schmidt is serving time for four counts of murder.

Actually, the real influence on Manson for the last year is a man named Nuel Emmons, an ex-con who has been Manson’s only regular visitor. Emmons has been collaborating with Manson to write an autobiography and according to one prison official, “Emmons has done more for Manson to straighten out his mind than any doctor, lawyer, or therapist. They’ve spent a lot of time together and they have a peer identification. Manson looks up to him like a father. He’s helped Manson sort through much of his confusion. But what’s most important, he’s one of the few people who’s not afraid to tell Manson when he’s full of it,” the official said.

Manson agreed, “This guy raised me up. I don’t do anything without checkin’ with him anymore.”

Emmons served about 14 years in prison on and off, but by 1964, he turned his life around, remarried, raised two children and went straight for good. He began to write sports and feature articles for a local paper, where he read Manson was in prison nearby but had been refusing all media interviews.

“I wrote to Manson and he wrote back. I went to see him and he remembered our unwritten code of ethics. After a few visits, Manson and I were talking about writing his autobiography.”

Manson has been talking to Emmons for hundreds of hundreds of hours. And after exhaustive interviews, Emmons is only now starting to wrap up the project.

“The initial problem I found with Manson was he really didn’t know what happened. At the time of the murders, they were all taking so much LSD that the truth was locked away somewhere. For some time, Manson told me a mixed version of what he could remember and what he read about himself.

Still, Manson has revealed all the other details of his life to Emmons, from his early childhood to his secret relationship with Lynette “Squeaky” Fromme. For years they were forbidden to write letters or communicate with each other. And in 1975, Fromme showed up at the prison demanding to see Manson. When prison officials denied the visit, she went out and tried to shoot President Gerald Ford, a crime for which she is now serving her own life sentence. Her motive was never confirmed to anyone before Emmons.

The other “Manson girl” who has remained loyal is Sandra Good, who is now serving a 15-year sentence for threatening to kill 75 corporate executives. Good and Fromme, in the federal prison at Alderson. W. Va., are both now allowed to write letters to Manson. The three communicate regularly. Besides keeping a picture of each in his new cell, he calls them “good girls who never snitch.”

Why does Charles Manson say he’d like to be paroled?

“For sex. I’d like to be paroled so I can have sex. I think about sex all the time. I don’t need anything else.

His sexual frustration is apparent and the visitation area of the prison doesn’t seem to help. All around him, wives and girlfriends visit the other inmates, kissing, cuddling, groping and fondling. While that goes on, Manson watches their children, even bouncing them on his knee, teaching them card tricks.

A blond-haired 5-year-old boy brought Manson a grasshopper with a broken leg. He wanted him to fix it. Manson cupped the insect in his hands and his face dropped in sadness. “I’m afraid the grasshopper is very sick,” he explained and then carefully placed it back on ground.

Manson has always shown comparison for children and creatures of nature. That’s nothing new. What is a seemingly new leaf for Manson is his effort towards people. It’s a valid curiosity what the parole board will make of Manson’s new attitude.

Less convinced is Vincent Bugliosi, the prosecuting attorney who is credited with putting Manson away in the first place. In a recent interview he said, “Manson should stay in jail forever. If he was in prison in Texas or Arkansas or another state, he’d be in jail for the rest of his life. But California is just too liberal. He just may get out someday.”

By SHELLEY ROSS