PART IV:  INVESTIGATING THE FEDS

Chapter 6:  Flight Risk

 

Whether my partner and I were at a theme park, camping, boating, snow skiing, or on a two week driving vacation on the West Coast from the far South to the far North and back, we always had federal agents with us in 2005.  We seemed to get along just fine, but some of the agents were upset from time to time that we did not modify our schedule to accommodate for their younger children.  I felt less guilty over time as I did not ask for protection, I did not see a need anymore, and it was starting to get annoying.  I did not see the forest through the trees. 

 

Things began to change near the end of the year when, unknown to me, there were more people than just those that protected us.  Protection began to wane in exchange for an investigative presence.  In addition, splitting up my partner and I became a political goal for Homeland Security.  I remember eating dinner on New Years Eve while out of town when I overheard an agent say, “It’s amazing how much power he has.  I wonder how we can get him to leave his partner?”

 

It was not until 2008 that I would realize there were two groups of people that went with us on a primitive camping trip in Hoosier National Forest over Memorial Day weekend in 2006.  There was John’s team, who was the man I gave a “DOJ style” interview to at our local gay bar, and there were the agents who had migrated from protection mode to investigative.  I had invited the FBI agents to stay at our camp site, but when they stood near with all of their gear for about ten minutes, it did not register in my brain they were waiting on an invitation.  I thought John was the good agent responsible for protecting us and they were random strangers.

 

After over a year of having federal agents in my life on a daily basis, I was really getting tired of not having any privacy.  Trying to solve this issue by becoming an agent was unsuccessful, and making it mandatory after I had already offered really upset me.  But again, I did not know there were multiple teams.  Thus, on one of my summer walks through the woods at a local park, I turned off my wireless phone so that no one would bother me and I could be alone.  When I arrived back to the parking lot, an agent hopped onto his phone noting they had found me.

 

I went to Best Buy immediately following my hike to pick up some blank DVD’s, and I heard one of the agents in front of the store comment, “I don’t think he was trying to run.”  I not only felt like government property, but I chalked the comment up to making their job difficult versus being considered a flight risk.   

 

Our Thanksgiving trip to Vancouver, British Columbia in November of 2006 brought some faces I had not seen since we stopped visiting our local gay bar.  Based on a conversation I overheard at dinner one evening, apparently there were Canadian agents as well.  This would explain why I was offered a free room while on the first ski lift at Whistler, but we needed to get back to the city to fly home the next day.

 

We had someone bang on our door one morning yelling for us to come out, and there was an SUV that came a little too close for comfort, but this was likely a scare tactic as the FBI knew my partner and I were contemplating a move to Canada.  They had expressed unhappiness over this possibility in early 2006, and they went as far as jabbering on how they thought it was a hit man.  Regardless, it was nice to see some familiar faces of when we all got along versus the constant smearing at home.

 

Due to the drama during our October vacation in Florida with my folks, my partner and I opted to stay at a local hotel versus their house during our Christmas holiday.  My folks made a few remarks about us not staying with them, but we were not going to be stuck in a similar situation as Florida.  This allowed for additional free time, so we spent a night on the town visiting our past time gay bars.

 

We happened to run into John’s team at a gay bar while out of town, and there were mixed feelings with minor confrontation.  On one hand, John was under the assumption that I was leaving my partner as a result of some rather harsh arguments my partner and I recently had, and he was bragging to his team that he was going to get me as one of his agents.

 

On the other hand, I was flicked off in the face without provocation as there was not a lot of love between the agents and myself.  This was likely due to a political strategy I had discussed with my partner on the way to our holiday destination of getting the Department of Justice to self incriminate via a FOIA (Freedom of Information Act) request.  I actually wanted to flood the department with millions of requests, but other political folks progressed with specific allegations involving attorneys.

 

My partner and I returned to Orlando in January of 2007 for his yearly IBM Conference, and I received an unexpected phone call from Jenn regarding a website for a mayoral candidate while we were picking up supplies at Target.  By the time I finished the call in the parking lot, there were two agents waiting outside their vehicle.  I heard one of them excitedly comment, “I cannot believe it!  It’s him!”  They must have remembered us from the year before, and they obviously were not agents from home.

 

We became members of the YMCA in February, and it would become our home away from home after we quit smoking at the end of March.  Working out nearly every day of the week, I grew in strength relatively quickly.  The gym ended up being a great source of knowledge as it helped in differentiating the various groups of agents along with their objectives.  I remember overhearing a comment in early summer of what the agents were going to do when I became really big, but I was still in denial that most of the agents present were there to make sure I did not skip town.  Thus, I did not understand why they felt they should feel physically in danger.  

 

In May, my partner and I visited our friends Hal and Ed in Chicago.  We stayed overnight, and I spent some time with Ed the next day having afternoon cocktails at some Chicago gay pubs while my partner and Hal did some shopping.  Ed somehow seemed to know of my squandering career and made a snide comment about me needing civil unions.  At a second pub we visited, the bartender looked like a champion weight lifter.  Not only did he know Ed personally, but he leaned over to me and said, “That’s why we’re here, to make sure you don’t hurt any kids.”  I was unsure of how to respond, but when I saw the bartender at our local YMCA, I knew something was not adding up.

 

By the time a pride event occurred in June, I was beginning to turn the corner from confusion to anger.  After Clint, the Homeland Security agent who purchased our local gay bar, and his buddies taunted me with slanderous comments regarding young boys, my partner walked me away and convinced me to blow off their comments.  Although not proud of considering violence in retaliation, it signified the amount of dislike and frustration I had for Homeland Security.

 

Also at the pride event were the flight risk agents that worked out at our local YMCA, but I still thought they were of those that were there to help me.  The one break through of the weekend was concerned questioning, before leaving for the pride event, by a Democratic Homeland Security agent.  I explained to him once again that my partner and I were being followed, I called the FBI, and “someone will always be there.”

 

I knew he and others involved in politics were federal agents as a result of overhearing a multitude of their conversations, odd statements and questions, and them having knowledge of our lives beyond what could be considered legal.  I did not make the Homeland Security identification, however, until his repeated questioning regarding my contacting the FBI.  He said that one of the Democrats believed Ann and I were just paranoid about Homeland Security, and that is when I made the separation between the FBI and Homeland Security.

 

When my partner fell asleep on our boat over the July 4^th holiday and drifted into a swim area, I ran back to our house to grab my wireless phone to call him.  While walking back to our beach association at the end of our street, I overheard someone comment that if he fell into the lake and drowned, it would solve a lot of their problems.  Surprisingly of Homeland Security agents, their mindset is not that of honor and professionalism. 

 

In addition, there was also a remark that all they needed to do was find someone who looked like a guy that I had a crush on when I was in high school.  One would have hoped it was someone near my age, but he was just like my high school crush.  Eventually I saw the guy they found at the YMCA, and he reported to the manager in charge of handling flight risk responsibilities.  Thus, it was fair to assume a connection between the agents in our neighborhood and those in charge of making sure I did not skip town.  

 

The choppiness of the relationship between my partner and I always brought the managers out of their shells.  A big argument would spawn talk of hiring me.  The flight risk manager gave up his cover, including those on his team, after my partner and I signed a separation contract.  The manager stated, “We may have hit the goldmine on this one.” 

 

Another comment of his was, “Oh my god, he controls Congress…think of what he could do for us!”  Controlling Congress could not have been further from the truth, but he clearly knew what advice I passed along and where I stood on specific issues.  He wanted to hire me so badly that even in mid 2008, assuming I would leave my partner, he continually returned to the YMCA.

 

August in 2007 made it crystal clear there were a multitude of federal agent teams, and I knew for sure that I was under investigation.  The conversation between one of the agents that seemed to look over us and the folks at Jeanine’s residence was undeniable in realization.  In addition, I overheard fellow campers at Rock Island state that I must be an important person because important people always think they are being protected.  Still, no one ever told me that I was under investigation.

 

My partner and I spent Thanksgiving in Minneapolis, and that was a turning point as the number of federal agents that looked after us began to increase when we returned home.  The flight risk manager even noticed the change at our local YMCA.  Before leaving that day abruptly, he stated to someone via his wireless phone, “This place is packed with agents!”  The pieces of the puzzle continued to fit into place, but connecting all of the dots extended into mid 2008.