“Denise’s” Husband “Norman” (JOSEPH C. PHILLIPS) Bumps into ‘An Old Friend’ Who Confessed COSBY Violated Her, Too – The $64,000 Question: Who?

Remember Denise’s husband Navyman “Norman” (slash) “Olivia” (Raven Symone)’s dad from The Cosby Show?



Well although (about the situation) we haven’t heard from Tempest Bledsoe “Vanessa” (at all-and hardly ever):

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But the one person we haven’t heard from (in years) that had the weirdest, most mysterious distancing away from the show and Cosby is

  • Lisa Bonet-“Norman’s” wife (slash) “Denise.”

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The only thing we heard from her on it was a twitter page (claiming to be hers) filled with posts claiming Cos was indeed guilty of the acts he was accused of…but later redacted as a “fake page.”

Well, “Denise’s husband” has a name and it is Joseph C. Phillips. And he has blog where just recently, he decided to share his thoughts on the situation involved Cosby which started off pretty much like everybody else thought: “Impossible-not Bill Cosby.”


For the record, he starts off be confirming he has never seen, or heard tell or tales of Bill Cosby doing or having done anything inappropriate-ever. And he admits that initially, when the amount of women began to line up claiming victim, he was more than skeptical-but felt like they were lying through their teeth.

But as details were emerging, that blatant disregard turned to skepticism somewhat although he reserved judgment.


cosby-show-contestIn his blog posting he titles “Of Course Bill Cosby is Guilty!” he mentions a girl in particular (in the business) he had always had a crush on but she spun him into the friend zone and curved him such that it wiggled his ears. (LoL).

But long story short, he says that over years they kept in touch but their paths had gone in different directions but he maintained a passive interest into her so when he bumped into her (just recently-during the height of the scandal), they had a pow-wow…

This is how he said it began—his wording is particularly interesting, how he set it up: this girl’s relationship to Cosby (threw it out there and took it back):

“As we spoke, I recalled that Bill had been her mentor (play father, teacher…something. I couldn’t quite recall what it was). The question popped into my head.

“Hey, do you mind if I ask you something?”

She looked at me and then asked,

I will stop there for now, and let Joseph tell you in his own words:

“…so, in 1989, my attitude was that if Bill was cheating on Camille, I am fairly certain Camille knew. Hey, if everyone who claimed to know actually knew, then certainly Camille knew, and had long ago made her peace with it. At any rate, it was none of my business. I never saw Bill engage in any inappropriate behavior. I certainly never saw him drug anyone. So, all I have is the same gossip as everyone else.

As the accusations began to increase, I became increasingly disturbed. I was fairly certain that some of the women were lying through their teeth, but certainly not all of them. Discovering that the man you idolize may be a serial rapist is a bit traumatic. I don’t imagine it is anything near to the trauma of the alleged victims. Nevertheless, I found it unsettling.

I was particularly shaken the afternoon I bumped into an old friend while shopping. The controversy was at its height. The story of Bill was all over the press. I hadn’t seen this woman for many years. Back in the day, I had asked her out on a few dates, but was relegated to the friend zone so fast it made my ears wiggle. We had kept in touch for a few years, but our lives had taken different paths. Over the years, I had watched with a passive interest as her career grew, so I was excited to see her and catch up a bit.

As we spoke, I recalled that Bill had been her mentor (play father, teacher…something. I couldn’t quite recall what it was). The question popped into my head.

“Hey, do you mind if I ask you something?”

She looked at me and then asked, “Is it going to make me cry?”

I was a bit taken aback. “Well,” I stammered. “I hope it doesn’t make you cry.”

She smiled. “Go ahead and ask your question.”

“Back in the day,” I started. “I remember that you knew Bill – that he was like your mentor or something. Did he ever…”

Before I finished the sentence, she began to cry.

We spent the next two hours sitting on a bench talking. Through tears, she told me her story. She cursed him for violating both her trust and her body. She cursed herself for not being smarter, and for degrading herself in pursuit of success. I listened patiently. As she began to run out of steam, she turned to me. “Do you believe me?”

“Yes.” I said. “I believe you.”

“Why?” she asked.

“Because I know you can be a bit ditzy, but I don’t believe that you are crazy and only a crazy person would sit with me all this time and share a fantasy.”

I am not sure if our conversation was cathartic for her. I know it was heart-breaking for me.

As I drove home, I battled my emotions.  I felt for my friend, for the violation of her trust, loyalty, and body.  I was angry with Bill.  He had money, fame, and power; he was a walking aphrodisiac!  Why?  I was also angry at myself for falling for the okey-doke, of putting Bill on a pedestal.  Something changed inside me during that drive; call it the last gasp of a mocking bird.

More recently, there were a series of (cont’d)”