“Davis had an affinity for flashy cars and trouble seemed to follow him whenever he was in one. While it’s been rumored that he cruised around in his Lamborghini Miura with a .357 magnum under the seat and enjoyed outrunning the fuzz with people sitting shotgun (he once scared Jimi Hendrix half to death), Davis was arrested in 1970 on weapons charges when he was sitting in his red Ferrari and an officer noticed he had accented his ensemble of a turban, white sheepskin coat and snakeskin pants with a pair brass knuckles. One might have thought brass knuckles might not be enough protection, considering he had been shot in the hip while sitting in another Ferrari less than a year earlier in an alleged extortion plot. In 1972 he crashed his Lamborghini Miura and broke both of his ankles. He promptly ordered another.”
“Someone posted in Ferrari Chat that Miles Davis had fallen asleep at the wheel and stuffed his Lambo. I was there and responded.
There was a bit more to it than that. He didn’t fall asleep at the wheel. He tried to make a right angle turn at 60 mph from the left lane of the West side Highway to the 125 ST exit across three lanes of traffic. He didn’t make it. He hit the WPA Stone exit ramp and the Lime Green Miura came apart like Brazilian plywood in the rain. I pulled over and ran back to his car. He was wearing leather pants and the bones of both of his legs were sticking through the pants. He was bleeding badly.
He looked at me and said, ‘Is my car f#cked up?’ I told him the car was gone. He said, ‘I got to take a look.’ I told him both legs were broken and he wasn’t going anywhere. I ripped up a shirt I found on the floor and told him to hold the cloth over the bleeding with pressure as it was getting bad but not arterial. There were two large plastic bags filled with white powder on the floor and one had broken open. The interior was dusted. I grabbed the bags and ran to the sewer and chucked them. He screamed, ‘What The F#ck You Doing!!??’ I used rain water to wipe down the car as best as I could. The cops arrived. One of them asked me who I was. I told them just one of the guys he cut off. He looked at Miles and at me and told me to split.
Years later I was directing ‘Shakedown’ with Peter Weller. Weller liked Miles’s music and I told him that story. One night he went to hear Miles. He went back stage where Miles recognized him. ‘Hey Robo’ Peter told him the story and asked if it was true. Miles got real quiet and said, ‘I always wondered who that White Mother F#cker was. You thank him for me, and tell him to come by anytime.’
Miles was in the hospital for a long time and didn’t play for almost a year…”