Life can be something like your golf game. Just when you think it is all coming together, it implodes. In 1982, I was a colonel getting ready for the best year of my life. I was just starting in as a student at the Army War College. We had been assigned great quarters and life was good.
It was the first week of school and I checked my school mail box right before heading home. There was a phone slip telling me to call Mr. White at the Criminal Investigation Detachment (CID). It was after 1700 hours (5:00 PM), so I decided to call him the next day.
Shortly after I got home the door bell rang. It was the officer from the CID and he had with him a special agent from the Secret Service. They showed me their credentials and said we needed to talk. I took them into the dining room where we all sat down. I was really confused, but I had handled any number of criminal matters in my career and perhaps this had to do with some prior matter. Suddenly the Secret Service agent said, “OK, why d’you do it?” Now, I was not only confused, but really shook up. Having been an Army Lawyer for 20 years, I knew that they were screwing up whatever they were trying to do. But I didn’t think that this was the time for me to go into my “Miranda 101” tutorial. I guess if someone really felt guilty about something, he might just blurt it out (even if it is not what the agents are investigating). But, I was clueless and really wanted to know what they suspected me of doing.
So I told them that I was completely confused and asked what was it that I had supposedly done. The agent said, “Why did you threaten the President’s life?” I was still totally confused, but I knew I had never threatened the President’s life. I told them so. Little by little, I found out the facts. They had received an anonymous phone call from a public phone at the Kansas City International Airport that I had threatened the President’s life. It supposedly happened at my last assignment’s going-away party in Manhattan, Kansas. That had been a few weeks back. That was all they knew. No identification on the caller, no facts as to what I had said.
Knowing what the charge was gave me some relief. At that time I was pretty well satisfied that they would conclude I hadn’t done it. I gave them a written statement (still no Miranda warning), and a list of people who attended the party that they could contact. My wife, who was at the party, also talked with them. Even though I knew they would decided the complaint was unfounded, I still felt terrible. I had become aware that someone at Fort Riley, my last assignment, disliked me so much that he would make such a vicious phone call. I spent the next couple of days trying to remember who I could have upset at Fort Riley. Such activity is not a good idea and I don’t recommend it.
The other reason I felt terrible was with my military legal background, I knew that what had happened would constitute “criminal information” that would stay somewhere buried in my file. Even if the investigation concluded, as I’m sure they would, that there wasn’t a shred of truth to the accusation, it still stays in my file. The rationale for this is if someone, for example, is accused of peeking in windows, but it is decided it can’t be proved, it would be nice to have that “criminal information” when the individual is picked up a second or third time. If the first unfounded complaint gets thrown away, then the second complaint becomes the first. I requested that if the agents concluded that it was a crank call, they would be doing me a great favor if they could keep the complaint from going into my file (nice try). I never heard from them again. The Army War College year turned out to be as great as advertised.
Fast forward ten years. I’m retired from the Army and working as the Chief Counsel, National Highway Traffic Safety Administration (NHTSA). Nancy Miller, at the White House, interviewed me for the position and we stayed in contact during my time at NHTSA. In 1992, she invited me to join her for breakfast in the White House Mess. I had been through the White House check-in process three or four times without a hitch, but this time it wasn’t working. After about 15 minutes, some security personnel in fatigue uniforms showed up and “casually” stood around. Finally Nancy came out to see why I was so late. I told her I couldn’t seem to get through security.
Nancy disappeared for about five minutes and than came back and I was permitted to enter. We had an enjoyable breakfast. She told me that the bogus complaint was still there. She assured me that I wouldn’t have any more problems. And, I haven’t. Of course, I haven’t been back to the White House.