THE VISIT

Guest blogging: Craig Dudley

About 3:30 yesterday (5-8-07), I was sitting in the sauna. All the rocks I have moved sometimes get to me, and this was a day without having to go out to work. The dogs started telling me I had visitors.

My sauna is outside. I saw four men walking my way, so I went into the house and wrapped a towel around myself.

The first one showed me his Secret Service i.d. and introduced my inquisitors -- two Secret Service and two local sheriff’s deputies. The deputies wore black bullet-proof vests and stood to the side while the skinny white SS boy asked most of the questions. He was the bad cop. The bald-headed black man was the good cop and pleasant.

Turns out someone had accused me of threatening The Decider. This, and, "By the way, have you ever threatened to shoot any four-wheelers riding through here?"

They repeatedly asked if I had made any threats against The Decider. Did I have any firearms and such? I told them I was tenth-generation Quaker, if that meant anything to them. I also made mention that this was the sort of stuff we were taught in school back in the fifties and sixties happened exclusively in Russia. Someone unknown to you made allegations, and so you had visitors.

The good cop told me that times were different now.

The bad cop asked me how I would feel should The Decider be assassinated. In essence I said I thought it would be time to buy a six-pack, but murder wasn't something I was interested in doing.

They probably asked me at least four or five times if I had any intention of doing in their boss. I finally asked them how many times and ways they needed to hear my answer.

I said that if it would help them sleep any better, I would sign a paper saying I had never made any threats against their boy. They gave me a sort of Miranda form where I wrote, "I never made any violent treats against anyone." I haven't. I don't. I wouldn't.

I suggested that the allegation and this visit must have happened because of my letter-writing to the local newspapers.

They asked me what I thought of The Decider. I said I thought him a fool and would rather see Barry Goldwater as president. The good cop asked me what problem I have with The Decider. "Everything he does," I replied.

I asked who had made allegations against me, but they refused to tell me. I reminded them of the Bill of Rights, and their response was that I would only have access to my accuser in a trial. I told them again that this is the sort of stuff that happened in the Soviet Union. They told me they weren't taking me away and were taking my word in opposition to the false witness being sworn against me.

That was the gist of their visit. They made mention of how nice my house was. That was nice of them. I asked for a card, which curiously none of them had. The skinny SS boy said that two of them were named Jason in case that helped. They said goodbye and left. I went back to the sauna.

This morning I attempted to contact both Jasons. The local deputy was pleasant but had no info other than he had just been the native guide for the federales. I have tried several times to contact the SS boys but keep getting voice mail.

I am curious to discover two things I forgot to ask yesterday: (1) Why would they take seriously an allegation which combined threats against The Decider and a bunch of four-wheelers? (2) As I am unable to face my accuser myself, will these investigators also be investigating the pretender who lied about me?

Despite what you might assume, I think yesterday's visit was proper and fair police work. The authorities receive many tips and must check them out. It's been going on for a long time, not just with this administration. I suspect that almost all such reports are false, but if there is one in a hundred that's real, it's worth the effort. The four men were polite and did not come barging in with guns drawn (which happened, with terrible consequences, under Nixon's "no knock" anti-drug busts, some at wrong addresses, leading to shooting deaths and woundings, as well as deep trauma to kids and others waking up to guns at their heads and some agent in scruffy street clothes shouting at them).

These sorts of things are happening these days, though, as the good cop told me. Times have changed. Our protectors have removed our protections in order to save them.