Little Colorado

It was late November, 1984 and we had spent the week before Thanksgiving at Deer Camp in McCurtain County, Oklahoma. Hunting season was set to close and as we sat by the campfire memories of hunting seasons past flickered off the fires flames. I had moved to Oklahoma after graduating from Florida State University in 1977. Now, after seven years as an Agent with the Oklahoma Bureau of Investigation (OSBI), I had accepted a new federal position with the Naval Investigative Service (N.I.S.). My reporting date was ten December, 1984 and my new place of residence would be Charleston, South Carolina (S.C.).

McCurtain County was referred to by some as “Little Colorado”. Mountains were not large, however the mixture of hardwood forests, mountain rivers and lakes painted a picture that certainly rivaled the “Big Sky” country of Colorado. Coupled with the geographical configuration of McCurtain County bordering Texas and Arkansas the nickname “Little Colorado” sets the lay of the land. Most do not realize that the Red River separates the County from Texas and Arkansas.

I learned early from my OSBI Partner, K.P. Larsch about the infamous Red River and what it meant when the words “he will do to ride the river with” were spoken. It is a phrase used among Law Men in Oklahoma. Most folks outside of Oklahoma are not familiar with the phrase, nor are they familiar with the border area between Oklahoma and Texas. The Red River runs hard separating the two states. Outlaws from the old days, such as Frank and Jesse James along with other infamous characters like Pretty Boy Floyd and Machine Gun Kelly, used the border river as a safe haven.

To this day Oklahoma and Texas Law Men tread cautiously when “Running the River” looking for murderers, smugglers, and other assorted outlaws. The highest tribute that can be bestowed on an Oklahoma Law Officer is “he will do to ride the river with.”

As the temperature dropped, fresh split oak was added to our campfire. One of my hunting companions stirred the fires coals, it was not lost that both my companions this year were without a doubt Lawmen that I would ride with. Troy Leathers and Tom Jordan were not only fellow OSBI Agents but my friends. Considering the fourth member of our party, Marvin Hill, Chief of Police for Broken Bow, this year’s Deer camp was full of “real deal Lawmen.” My thoughts, as the evening progressed, centered on “will my new outfit” (NIS) have Lawmen in their ranks.

Ten December arrived and I reported to work at the NIS Office aboard Charleston Naval Base, Charleston, S.C. Temporary quarters at the BOQ had been arranged and as I traversed the base the sight of Nuclear Attack Submarines pretty much locked my brain into knowing I was no longer in Oklahoma. Introduction to the Agent in Charge was immediately followed by a short introductory conversation. Carl Meritt was my new Bosses name and although not a big man his manner and presence left no doubt he was “The Boss”. Our short conversation disclosed he was a former U.S. Marine and that he had been with NIS for close to twenty years. I walked away from my encounter with a solid feel for I had already identified Carl as a “Quiet Professional.”

Jim O’Neal was introduced as my ASAC. As I conversed I knew for sure I wasn’t in Oklahoma. Jim’s accent was without a doubt a giveaway for Rhode Island, as I recalled living there when my father was stationed at Quantsent Point. Next was Joe O’connor, the ASAC for Fraud. Joe had an easy manner and if I didn’t know he was an NIS Agent I would have guessed he was possibly a Catholic Father.

Buddy Williams and Richard Garbett were introduced, followed by me being told the General Criminal Squad would be my assignment. When lunch time arrived Williams and Garbett invited me to join them at their favorite Chinese Buffet restaurant in N. Charleston. Before finishing lunch I had assessed both Williams and Garbett as solid guys and felt relieved that the three of us would be partners. Time zinged by and before I had settled in completely I was scheduled to attend the basic Criminal Investigation School located at the Federal Law Enforcement Training Center (FLETC), in Brunswick, Georgia.

Arrival at FLETC was a curious experience for thirty years before my father had been stationed at the U.S. Navy Installation which was now FLETC. Initial trips to Brunswick resulted in me finding the elementary school I had attended and the small wood frame house my family and I lived in.

The basic Criminal Investigator course was structured over an eight week curriculum and did not require excessive worry or study for my seven years as an Oklahoma Bureau Agent had more than prepared me for the task. My class was a mixture of NIS personnel and IRS employees. The goal for all was graduation and appointment as a 1811 designated Federal Special Agent. Most of my fellow students were five to ten years younger than I was so I gravitated towards an older U.S.M.C. member, who was a Criminal Investigation Division (CID) Agent, assigned to NIS. His service with the Marine Corp in Vietnam was our common ground and a strong friendship emerged.

Graduation from FLETC was followed by two additional weeks of training at N.I.S. Headquarters, Washington, D.C. and within no time I resumed my duties back in Charleston, S.C. Operational and investigative demands were minimal for I was accustomed to such at the State Bureau. Administrative responsibilities were another issue altogether. Once I realized that the primary difference between State and Federal Government agencies was the volume and repetition of paperwork, I was sailing on smoother seas.

Serious crimes involving U.S. Naval or Marine Corp personnel were, if committed on base, the jurisdiction of N.I,S. Crimes perpetrated off base involving Navy or Marine members were normally handled by local civilian jurisdictions. However, often the civilian authorities would request NIS assistance on certain aspects of their investigations. Two such instances occurred back to back while I was in Charleston. Both involved the crime of Murder and were without a doubt unique in their circumstances. One started as a robbery at a Pizza fast food Restaurant but quickly evolved into a homicide. Once the culprits finished securing all monetary funds available they then made the lone employee stand on his tip toes on a bucket. The employee had his hands bound and in addition the robbers placed a noose around his neck. Once the employee fatigued and could no longer stand on his toes the noose tightened and cut his airway off killing him. The employee was part time however, he was also a U.S. Navy member who had secured the job to earn extra money.

The civilian authorities and NIS worked on the investigation jointly. Although I had experienced a steady diet of homicide investigations for seven years at the Oklahoma Bureau this particular incident resounded as being particularly calculated and cruel. Thoughts of administering a bit of Oklahoma Justice to the culprits required restraint for I was a bit unclear on how such would be viewed by my new “Federal Organization.”

A second homicide occurred in an area adjacent to Charleston and involved the wife of a Navy member. Not only had she been murdered but the killer had meticulously taken a razor sharp knife and laid the flesh open, from her buttock area to her heel, on the backside of both legs. I had investigated enough killings up to this point to understand that “the type of savagery exhibited” in this death spelled “personal”. Within no time the victim’s husband, a Navy member, was identified as the killer. Strange twist however, evolved into a conclusion no one could have imagined. The now wanted Navy member stole a private single engine plane and circled the Charleston Navy base.

The word scramble doesn’t even touch the chaotic situation that ensued. Thoughts of the wanted killer crashing his plane into a Nuclear Powered and armed Submarine now became a real possibility. Before the horror of such an occurrence could be fully absorbed the plane gained altitude and then nose dived into an empty fuel storage area aboard the base. My first flash thought was “the boys in Oklahoma are not going to believe this.”

Upon leaving the Oklahoma Bureau and joining NIS, I evaluated the investigative challenges that I would encounter. I was confident that my new Outfit would not provide a challenge or obstacle I had not seen and investigated before. New elements, such as Nuclear Submarines being involved in the mix , had added some degree of drama however, at the core I understood that solid investigative experience would allow me to prevail.

I was now coming up on my one year anniversary as an NIS Agent. It was mid morning when Charlie Roberts asked if I was available to assist on a duty call that had originated from the Marine Corps Weapons station adjacent to Charleston. Once Roberts and I arrived at the Weapons Station we were met by two additional agents. As is customary a short brief was provided by the Agent on scene. Within two minutes my mind raced and I silently said “holy shit.” I was about to assist in conducting detailed interviews of U.S. Marine Corp personnel, who had “reportedly observed an unidentified flying object” hovering over the Weapons Station, just a few hours before our arrival. I was fully consumed and a bit speechless when thoughts of the “Wizard of Oz” were recalled. Primary thought was I am not in Oklahoma anymore and this is not Kansas because I know what Kansas looks like.

As I entered the building where our interview subjects were my imagination flared and “Flying Monkeys” came to mind. Once our interviews were completed we drove back to Charleston. On the way Roberts asked “what do you think?” Not wanting to appear flippant and definitely not wanting to appear too serious, I said “those Marines saw something, only question is what was it.” Silent thoughts focused on “can’t wait to tell my Oklahoma compadres about this one.”

Orders transferring me to the Naval Base at Subic Bay Philippines were received. Change in SAC’s occurred and I made the acquaintance of our new SAC Blair Gluba. Immediate bonding resulted for Blair was not only a gun enthusiast but a sure enough “gunslinger.” Tremendous experience both in the Criminal Investigative world and the Counter Intelligence community, Blair was politically smooth and if necessary could cut an Agent to the bone. Reservations, regarding my pending transfer, set in because I truly wanted to work for our new SAC. A bit of mentoring by my SAC and I was now ready for new adventures and challenges in S.E. Asia.

Leave in route was authorized so time was spent visiting friends in Oklahoma. In addition a retrial of a murder suspect was scheduled and I had been subpoenaed as a witness. Glen Burton Ake, had been charged with the murder of Mr. and Mrs, Douglass and the attempted murder of their two children Brooks and Lesley. The homicide occurred in Okarche, Oklahoma in 1979. Once Ake and his accomplice Steven Hatch, were identified as the murderers, Troy Leathers and I had received instructions from our Director, Tom Kennedy to capture both. The resultant manhunt encompassed a bit more than six weeks of hard riding and caused Leathers and I to traverse multiple states in our pursuit.

Before Leathers and I could catch up, Ake and his follower Hatch, murdered two additional people in Orange, Texas. A shootout in Craig Colorado ultimately resulted in their capture. Extradition back to Oklahoma resulted in both being found guilty of murder and being sentenced to death. Now, as a result of an appeal (Ake vs. Ok.), the supreme court ordered a new trial for Ake. Eight years had elapsed since I provided my first testimony against Ake.

As I entered the courtroom I looked hard at Ake. His physical appearance had changed dramatically. The hard muscle tone and cocky arrogant attitude displayed in 1979 was now soft and subdued. He did not attempt to engage my stare and as I took the witness chair my thought was “if Leathers and I had caught up, neither a trial or a retrial would have occurred.”

The following week World News reported an eruption of major political unrest in the Philippines. As I boarded my flight for Manila my thoughts were centered on lessons learned long ago. When my eyes closed “stay alert, stay alive,” was once again echoing through my mind.

Landing in Anchorage Alaska was not particularly significant until I entered the main terminal area. Just as it was sixteen years earlier, a huge brown bear stood in the center of the terminal. A jolt back to 1969 quickly subsided for this trip’s destination was the Philippines and not Vietnam.

Other than being major league fatigued my arrival in Manila was business as usual. Arrival at baggage claim coincided with Sam Shine greeting me. I had previously met Agent Shine in Charleston and now a year later he was assigned as my Sponsor to facilitate the pending transition to Subic Bay. Travel from Manila was accomplished by passenger van, allowing time for Sam to provide a “down and dirty” brief on the current political situation, involving the Philippine President Fernando Marcos and a new rising challenger named Aquino.

As we drove towards Subic, scenes of open farmland coupled with areas of jungle vegetation brought forward remembrances of landscape previously seen in Vietnam. Primary thought now centered on “at least I won’t be making machete trails,” in this jungle.