Andy Warhol’s former assistant Joseph Freeman on working with the pop artist

In 1965, New York schoolboy Joseph Freeman interviewed Andy Warhol for his high-school newspaper. What happened next changed his life

I’d never heard of Andy Warhol, but I used to buy tech magazines and he was on the cover of one, wrapped around a prototype video recorder. He had rosecoloured glasses and was the coolest person I’d ever seen. People like that just weren’t part of the culture yet. I didn’t know what pop art was, but I thought, I have to meet him.

I went to my high-school newspaper and said, ‘If I get an interview with Andy Warhol, will you print it?’ They laughed, but said, ‘Of course.’ So now I had credentials. I went to the Museum of Modern Art and asked the guard, ‘How do I meet Andy Warhol?’ He told me where his gallery was and one of the curators called Andy and said, ‘I have this cute little kid here who wants to interview you.’ And Andy said, ‘Sure, come to the Factory [Warhol’s studio] on Sunday at 1pm.’ So I wrapped up my Panasonic reel-to-reel tape recorder, which my parents gave me for my bar mitzvah, and off I went.

I was an artist too – I had been drawing since I was a little kid, so I felt qualified. I said, ‘Do you think pop art is…?’ And Andy said, ‘No.’ He turned the interview round and asked me questions about my personal life – which wasn’t very expanded at that time. When I went back to school, they put out the article with the headline ‘Andy Warhol interviews Bay Times reporter’.

I went back to the Factory and showed it to Andy, months later, and he was thrilled. He said, ‘I can never get to the Factory on time. I’d love it if you would be my assistant and come to my house every day at 1 o’clock and push the process along.’ My art teacher let me skip class so I could get the subway to Andy’s house. His mother would answer the door. As I waited, I’d sit at his desk, answer his phone and go through his mail. Finally, when he was ready, we waved down a cab on Lexington and went to the Factory. And when we stepped out of the elevator, it was like the Sun King entered, and life began – he was that kind of presence.

I became his gopher/assistant/apprentice for about three years. He paid me $30 a week. I should have kept the cheques – they would be worth more to me today than the $30 was then.

My mother was sort of OK with it; my father said, ‘What do you want to hang out with that queer for?’ But they didn’t tell me to stop. When I met him, he was portraying himself as asexual. He was obviously gay, but he didn’t come out until much later. He never made a move on me – he was very nice and treated me like a friend, even though he was 22 years older. He didn’t have the act then, the Andy Warhol act that eventually became him.

When I was 16, I had a beautiful blonde girlfriend, but Andy discouraged me from going out with girls. I thought, it’s time to leave. We stayed in touch for a few years. I’m sorry I didn’t go to the hospital when he got shot [by Valerie Solanas in 1968]. I had an unsigned self-portrait that I sold in 2008 when I needed cash, which I regret. Andy taught me how to do video and I now have an audio-visual consulting company. And what I learned from him about life has been invaluable. — Interview by Jessamy Calkin Andy Warhol is at Tate Modern until 6 September; tate.org.uk

Andy Warhol at work in the Factory on 47th Street, New York, in 1964

‘Little Joey’ Freeman with Warhol and Gerard Malanga (centre) at the Factory