Gold Country’s Heroine Tarnishes : Courts: Some idolized Ellie Nesler after she killed her son’s alleged molester. But as her troubled past has come to light, Hollywood and townsfolk keep their distance.

The long, fast and very public free fall of the Ellie Nesler legend has begun.

Even as the 40-year-old appeared in court Monday and indicated that she will plead temporary insanity in the killing of her son’s accused molester, the winds of public opinion are shifting.

Hollywood, that ultimate wet finger in the breeze, has lost interest in what must be record time--six weeks after Nesler walked into open court and without saying a word pumped five bullets point blank into the head of 36-year-old Daniel Driver.

Back then, it seemed, the whole world wanted a piece of Nesler, the heroine of the Mother Lode, the gold miner’s daughter who became an instant beacon for people besieged by crime and frustrated with a porous legal system.

There was Montel Williams, Donahue, Oprah, Geraldo, Larry King, “Good Morning America,” “The Today Show” and even erudite Charles Kuralt. Movie producers, writers and agents jammed phone lines from here to Sacramento. More than one TV movie producer flew up from Los Angeles waving “socially responsible” bona fides and the promise of tens of thousands of dollars for rights to Nesler’s story.

Calls of support and donations to her defense fund poured in from ordinary people across the country and Canada, Italy, Spain and Denmark.

Then came last week’s bombshell: Blood samples allegedly showed Nesler was wired on methamphetamine at the time of the shooting. In a reported confession to state investigators, she said she first contemplated killing Driver more than two years earlier and had waited for the opportunity.

And it has been learned that Nesler has a criminal record. In 1971, as an 18-year-old, she was found guilty in Santa Cruz County of auto theft and spent several months in a California Youth Authority facility.

All this contrasted sharply with the image of an afflicted mother pushed over the edge by events in the Jamestown courtroom that April 2 morning.

“Ellie should have taken the money during the feeding frenzy and run,” said one Hollywood producer who chased her movie rights. “Because she isn’t going to get it now. Interest in the ‘Ellie Nesler Story’ is dead.”

Some have yet to receive the word.

Freeman Cowgar, a representative of Atlanta Records in South Carolina, called The Times over the weekend excited and wanting a little publicity for the independent label’s new release, a hard-driving guitar ode to Nesler titled “Old Time Justice.”

“You’re going to love it,” Cowgar said. When told a story broke the previous day about Nesler high on crank, Cowgar paused. “Oh, no . . . Oh, boy. . . . That won’t lay easy on her if they prove that.”

Maybe it was an unreal expectation to begin with: the notion that someone capable of blowing away another person, however evil, would be the perfect avenger--without a single blemish.

“This has never been about signing our names to a TV movie,” said Jan Martinez, Nesler’s sister who serves as the family spokeswoman, on Monday. “This is a not a ‘good story.’ This is a tragedy.”

In court Monday, Nesler’s attorneys waived her preliminary hearing and persuaded the judge to lower the bail that keeps Nesler out of jail from $500,000 to $100,000. Her trial was set for midsummer.

Outside the courtroom, the throng of supporters waving placards that read “Stop Child Molesters Dead in Their Tracks” and “Support Ellie” had grown decidedly smaller since the previous court date.

Residents up and down Washington Street, the town’s main drag, said that support for Nesler--while still strong--has begun to fray at the edges even here.

“A lot of people have a different feeling now,” said Hank Twisselman, a deputy constable who considered himself a Nesler supporter. “The drug thing has soured it for them. It soured it for me.”

At the Horseshoe Club, over the din of a Texas Hold ‘em poker game, the barkeeper said she still thought Nesler’s biggest mistake was her aim.

“She should have shot him lower”--right between the legs, said the bartender, who identified herself only as Jeri. “But I guess this drug stuff has hurt Ellie. Now they have to ask themselves: ‘If that was me high on crank what would I do?’ ”

Harvey McGhee, editor and publisher of the Union Democrat in Sonora, said he has noticed the change in letters to the editor of late.

“We had a great flood at first from all over the country and the overwhelming majority of them were supportive of Ellie Nesler,” he said. “But most recently we’ve begun seeing letters that are more critical. People now have questions.”

But Jan Bingham drove an hour from Oakdale in her “Support Ellie” T-shirt and hat to lend support to Nesler because she understood a mother’s pain. Last year, her 13-year-old daughter was molested and the assailant served only 50 days in jail.

“I feel if people are changing their support of Ellie then I wonder where that support came from,” she said. “I’m not here supporting her lifestyle, I’m here supporting the fact that we need to change the laws (setting jail time for molesters).”

Nesler’s family acknowledged that the drug revelations, a messy change in attorneys and rumors of her criminal past and association with bikers have chipped away at her image. But Nesler’s attorney, Tony Serra, said the fact that Nesler felt the need to medicate her stress and pain the morning of the shooting would enhance the temporary insanity defense.

“This is not a chronic drug user or abuser,” said Serra, the pony-tailed lawyer from San Francisco who was the inspiration for the movie “True Believer.” Serra said it was “ridiculous” to conclude that Nesler had stalked Driver just because she told state attorney general’s investigators that she had wanted to kill him for two years.

“All she said was that the thought of killing him first crossed her mind several years ago,” said Serra.