FBI agents

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Lewinsky, who has kept out of the public eye for a decade, photographed at her Los Angeles apartment. Photo Vanity Fair

The Stained Blue Dress?

In November 1997, Monica Lewinsky told her confidant and supposed friend, Linda Tripp, that she had in her possession a blue Gap dress that still bore the semen stain that resulted from her administering oral sex to President Clinton in February of that year.

Tripp called her literary agent, and fellow Clinton-hater, Lucianne Goldberg to report the news that evidence existed in Lewinsky’s closet that could prove a sexual relationship between Monica and the President. Goldberg and Tripp, according to published reports in both Time and Newsweek, discussed stealing the dress and turning it over to investigators. Goldberg admitted having such a discussion with Tripp, calling it a “Nancy Drew fantasy.”

In late November, Lewinsky mentioned to Tripp that she intended to have the dress, which she had been saving a souvenir, dry-cleaned for a family event. Tripp, anxious to preserve the dress to nail the President, discouraged her from doing so. “I would tell my own daughter,” Tripp told her, that she should save the dress “for your own ultimate protection” should she later be accused of lying about the affair with Clinton. When Lewinsky expressed skepticism that it would ever come to that, Tripp told her that the dress made her look “really fat” and she shouldn’t wear it again in public.

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1933 Wilbur Underhill Shootout: (L to R) Firearms Instructors, SA “Jerry” Campbell, Unknown, and SA John Vincent taking part in a filming by Universal at Quantico firing range during the mid 1930s.

FBI Beginnings ..


“…. You don’t know what hell is until you are a young housewife in Chicago with a 3-month old child and your husband gets a call to throw some clothes in a bag and go to Wisconsin at once. Later that evening a radio bulletin said that 2 unidentified FBI agents had been killed in Wisconsin. The wife of the agent across the hall and I called the Bureau headquarters all night trying frantically to find out if we were widows…….When you have gone through that you will have been through hell.”?(Judge Don Metcalfe, son of SA James Metcalfe, recalls his mother’s words.)

The Depression Era’s war on crime came on hard, and it came on fast. To say that formal firearms and investigative training was still in its infancy is an understatement. As Judge Don Metcalfe said in a 2009 telephone interview,?”It wasn’t until months after the Kansas City Massacre in 1933 that my father had to learn how to shoot a gun and drive a car.”

The 1920s claimed the lives of two FBI agents. Between 1933 and 1934 alone, four FBI agents would be dead, and others wounded by the wretched bastards they pursued. By decade’s end, four more agents would be added to the list of those lost. Policemen, sheriffs and detectives who worked with or without the Bureau were no less vulnerable.

Bureau agents and others who fought the 1930’s war on crime didn’t understand how much all of it would tax their home lives. Their remarkable bravery overshadowed the haunted thoughts that they may make widows of their wives and leave their children fatherless. What records of both theirs and official that can be found?reveal the enduring and relentless fatigue of extremely long hours; of being in one city one day and another the next. The all night driving or the seemingly limitless Pullman train rides. Boring and endless stakeouts; false leads and mistaken identities.? At times, on the move with only the clothing on their backs. Only to bed down in some motel or private room in a remote corner of a dusty, dry America or a grimy industrial city. There would be days and weeks away from their wives, their children and their friends who would have no idea of where they were or what they were doing. For many,?the chase offered the best meal it could;?a hardened sandwich and a cup or two of some diner’s rancid coffee.

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Before the Fatal Rage

?On April 16, 2007, Virginia Tech experienced one of the most horrific events in American university history?a double homicide followed by a mass shooting that left 32 students and faculty killed, with many others injured, and many more scarred psychologically. Families of the slain and injured as well as the university community have suffered terribly.

Like so many thousands of Virginia Tech parents, Sung Tae and Hyang Im Cho spent the day of April 16 calling their son,?Seung-Hui Cho’s cellphone and sending him e-mails, hoping he hadn’t fallen prey to the man who was shooting students and professors at Virginia Tech.

The Chos’ fears were confirmed when police officers, FBI agents and a chaplain showed up that night at their Centreville townhouse.

But the news was worse than they had imagined.

Their shy, quiet 23-year-old son was the student gunman who fatally shot 32 people before killing himself.

Cho?s imaginary life included calling himself ?Question Mark?; a ?supermodel? girlfriend called ?Jelly? who ?travelled by spaceship?; and reporting to his room mate that he was ?vacationing with Russian Prime Minister Vladimir Putin? having ?grown up with him in Moscow?. But a Senior in Cho?s class who read his one-act play told a friend: ?This is the kind of guy who is going to walk into a classroom and start shooting people?.

?He has made the world weep,? the statement by Cho?s family said. ?We are living a nightmare.?

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Yosemite Valley, Yosemite National Park.

Yosemite Valley, Yosemite National Park.

Evil in Paradise

In a setting of beauty and grandeur, a twisted soul was on the loose, a murderer who revived gnawing fears that National Parks are no longer safe. Evidence reveals the confessed killer’s tortured past?and his bizarre obsession with Bigfoot

Yosemite?National Park is a vast area of mountain paths, alpine wilderness and redwood forests, one of the most beautiful scenic attractions in America. Set aside in 1890 to preserve a portion of the natural beauty of the Sierra Nevadas in California, its breathtaking topography rises as high as 13,000 feet above sea level. Two-hundred miles of winding road and 840 miles of foot trail have lured tourists, campers and skiers for decades.

But, under the mosaic of green conifer pines, domes of granite rock, silvery waterfall and misty mountain sky, a killer lurked. His first victims were a 43-year-old woman and two teenagers. They were missing for more than a month, and when the FBI located their bodies a cry of “serial killer!” shook the peaceful tranquility of the park.

On?Thursday morning, July 22, Dr. Desmond Kidd, Yosemite National Park’s medical director, had just finished a busy 24-hour shift at the park’s clinic?it was, after all, the height of the summer tourist season?and the 36-year-old physician was beat. But not long after he arrived back at the log cabin he shared with other park employees in Yosemite Village, his pager went off. Kidd called in to the park dispatcher and was asked to join a search for a missing person?a search, the dispatcher said, “with law enforcement implications.”

In two and a half years of working in Yosemite, Kidd had helped rescue a number of hikers who had lost their way, but before he headed out of Yosemite Village in a convoy of four-wheel-drive vehicles toward the nearby hamlet of Foresta, he learned that this search was different. Five months earlier, three female tourists had vanished from their hotel room at the Cedar Lodge, near Yosemite’s entrance, and had been found a month later, brutally murdered. Now, Kidd was told, another young woman had disappeared. Joie Ruth Armstrong, 26, an ebullient, strawberry-blond naturalist at the nearby Yosemite Institute and a casual acquaintance of Kidd’s, had been planning to spend the weekend visiting friends in Sausalito. Armstrong had never shown up, and her friends feared something had happened to her.

Turning left off the main Yosemite highway, Kidd steered his Jeep down an unmarked road into Foresta: 30 cabins, inhabited mostly by park employees, scattered across the bottom of a wooded glen. A forest fire had roared through this area in 1990, and many of the pine trees here were still blackened and skeletal. For the past year, Armstrong had lived with her boyfriend, another Yosemite Institute naturalist, along with a second roommate, in a green cabin set by itself at the edge of a golden meadow. Rangers had cordoned off the area around Armstrong’s secluded house with yellow police tape. Her white pickup truck was still parked in the driveway, packed with luggage for her trip.

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