Most Popular

Most Viewed
Most Commented
News
"Most Popular" tools sponsored by:
Recent Articles
Related Articles

Recent Articles By Keith Plocek

National Features

  • OC Weekly
    Citrus in the Sunset

    Bidding good-bye to the last real orange grove in Orange County.

    By Gustavo Arellano
  • SF Weekly
    The Price of Truth

    Deanna Johnson agreed to testify about a murder suspect. In return, she lost her home, her son, and her dog.

    By Ashley Harrell
  • Dallas Observer
    Terrain of Grief

    At the Gold Star Family Support Center, families of fallen soldiers will never be told they need to stop mourning.

    By Megan Feldman

Four days before Christmas, 1988. A flight takes off from Heathrow, headed for New York. Thirty-eight minutes later, one blip on the radar becomes four.

Hidden in a Toshiba cassette player inside a brown Samsonite suitcase, a block of plastic explosive punches a 20-inch hole in the left side of the fuselage, right near the “P” of the Pan Am logo, sending shock waves through the craft and causing the nose to detach in less than three seconds. The cockpit flops on the ground near a churchyard outside Lockerbie, Scotland, looking like a severed fish head on a bed of brown and green grass. One of the wings, loaded with fuel, completely vaporizes upon landing, killing 11 Lockerbie residents instantly. Fire, metal and flesh rain from the sky.

The ground is strewn with the flight's crew and passengers, all 259 dead, all from less than one pound of plastic explosive.

With 189 Americans onboard, the bombing of Pan Am Flight 103 is the deadliest terrorist attack on U.S. civilians until the second Tuesday of September 2001. Libyan involvement is instantly suspected, seen as payback for President Ronald Reagan's decision to bomb Tripoli and Benghazi in 1986, and two Libyan nationals are eventually tried for the attack.

Barely a month after the incident, The Nation runs an article asking a question that's on the mind of many in the intelligence community: Was a former CIA agent indirectly responsible for the carnage?

“When E. Lawrence Barcella Jr. heard about the explosion of Pan American Flight 103, he immediately thought of Edwin Wilson, the Central Intelligence Agency's infamous renegade,” the article begins. “In particular, Barcella, the former Assistant U.S. Attorney who tracked down Wilson and put him behind bars, pondered the 40,000 pounds of C-4 plastic explosive that Wilson, well schooled by the agency in intrigue and arms dealing, sold to Col. Muammar el-Qaddafi in 1977.”

Wilson's involvement is a valid concern, one potentially rich with irony. And even though the explosive used in the Pan Am bombing turned out to be Semtex, a cousin of C-4 made in Czechoslovakia, Barcella still thinks of Wilson every time a bomb goes off anywhere in the world.

Here was a guy who had been trained by the U.S. government to set up fake proprietary companies and who turned around and used that knowledge to sell arms to a brazen sponsor of terrorism. Here was a rogue agent, a death merchant.

During his 1983 trial in Houston for shipping the explosives and his Virginia trial the year before for shipping guns, Wilson maintained his innocence, claiming he was still working under the aegis of the Company when dealing arms to Libya. The CIA called bullshit and produced an affidavit stating Wilson hadn't had any indirect or direct contact with the agency, save for one minor incident, since his retirement in 1971. The Houston jury asked for that affidavit to be reread right before bringing back a guilty verdict.

Wilson was sent away for a long time, sentenced to 57 years in all, the first ten spent in solitary confinement. Justice was served.

But there was just one problem: The CIA had lied when it said Wilson hadn't been in contact with the agency since 1971. He'd actually been in contact with CIA officials at least 80 times. And the Justice Department knew the CIA had lied and didn't do anything about it.

In 2003, U.S. District Judge Lynn Hughes vacated the Houston conviction, slapping the government for its willful use of false evidence. Wilson was freed in 2004. He now lives in Seattle. He's working on getting his Virginia conviction overturned, as well as a conviction in New York for conspiring to have witnesses and prosecutors killed. He filed a civil suit in 2005, but five weeks ago U.S. District Judge Lee Rosenthal declared that the former prosecutors — two of whom are now sitting federal judges — had immunity for their actions.

The history of what exactly happened 30 years ago will always be hazy, but Rosenthal's ruling makes one thing clear: The government lied and locked a man up, and there's not much he can do about it.

Like any good spy story, this one begins with murder: the 1976 assassination of a Chilean ambassador named Orlando Letelier in Washington, D.C. Letelier was rounding Sheridan Circle when a bomb exploded under his car, shredding him and his assistant. He had been a high-profile critic of Chilean dictator Augusto Pinochet.

Seven months later, Washington Post reporter Bob Woodward (yes, that Bob Woodward) penned an article titled “Ex-CIA Aide, Cuba Exiles Focus of Letelier Probe.” The Ex-CIA aide was none other than Edwin Wilson, and in the article Woodward outlined how Wilson had been in contact with the Libyan government and how Wilson was being questioned in connection with the Letelier murder. Nothing ever came of the Wilson-Letelier connection, but the article sent Washington scrambling to figure out what exactly Wilson was doing over there in Qaddafi-land. And perhaps most important, Woodward's story placed Wilson's name in the mind of Assistant U.S. Attorney Barcella, whose eventual pursuit of the arms dealer would span three continents and almost four years.

The revelation that a former CIA agent was running around Libya wasn't good PR for the agency, but no one could deny Wilson had been part of the Company. An Idaho farm boy, he became a spook after a stint with the Marines in Korea, where he suffered a leg injury. On a hop to D.C., he told his story to a stranger who gave him a number to call if he ever needed work. Wilson did call, and next thing he knew, he was taking a battery of tests, the last of which involved a lie detector. When asked if he'd ever engaged in a homosexual relationship, Wilson became livid.

Write Your Comment show comments (3)
  1. You can actually see the CIA criminals up close at the Dulles Airport in Washington, but not at the regular airline terminals.

    The place is the "Landmark Aviation" terminal, a public place. For more: http://www.indymedia.org.uk/en/2007/04/368475.html

  2. I am amazed that people still believe what Woodwards says. Phil Linehan

    8 May 2006

    The Bob Woodward Story, Part I, or How to Make a Sharp U-Turn

    by Phil Linehan

    Two young reporters, like all their kind,
    yearned to escape their daily grind.
    Keen they were, enthusiastic,
    and prayed they’d clinch that scoop fantastic.

    Little did they dream that fate
    would lay before them Watergate,
    and all the President’s men’s skullduggery
    best described perhaps as thuggery.

    Bob typified the dogged sleuth
    who’d dig ‘til he unveiled the truth.
    Investigation was his strength;
    for a story he’d go any length.

    He’d probe the White House fabrications,
    delve into Nixon’s aberrations,
    uncover every lie or prevarication
    and expose a rotten administration.

    So Bob and fellow newsman Carl
    vowed Tricky Dicky to ensnarl.
    Lucky for them a mole appeared
    with a modus best described as weird.

    He’d meet with Bob in a garage under ground
    where his whispers did not make a sound.
    He earned the nickname of Deep Throat
    and he gave our Sherlock cause to gloat.

    Bob and Carl gained widespread admiration
    for what they did to save the nation.
    They exemplified steadfast persistence
    as they wore down editor Ben’s resistance.

    So President Nixon was thrown out –
    a mighty triumph without a doubt.
    A task not easy to repeat
    on a humble newsman’s normal beat.

    New fields of effort they had to find
    and leave their news desks far behind.
    Carl’s modest ways stayed as of yore
    while Bob’s huge ego was now a bore.

    To young journalists he was quite the hero,
    a role he took to like De Niro.
    A real colossus he became,
    a legend now of worldwide fame.

    Made managing editor at the Post
    he seemed to vanish like a ghost.
    Now his by-line seldom would appear
    and co-workers soon began to sneer.

    They asked wherever could he be found
    and why he was never seen around.
    Eager hacks set out to trace him
    and it did not take them long to place him.

    He was seen as he left in a rush
    from an office occupied by Bush.
    The guy who hated presidents’ men
    had now become just one of them.

    The White House was in disrepair
    as leaks oozed out from everywhere.
    All around were phone call buggers
    when what they needed were good pluggers.

    George W. considered him a chum
    and how could poor Robert not succumb?
    He was handed info cherry-picked
    and it dawned not on him he’d been tricked.

    He played his cards close to his chest
    and his editor did not keep abreast,
    He was gathering all that he could muster
    for inclusion in his next blockbuster.

    He had once reported all the news
    but now felt he could pick and choose.
    He would decide which well-cooked brownie
    to feed to editor Len Downie.

    He appeared with awe-struck Larry King
    who allowed him his own praise to sing.
    His methods, once investigative,
    had now become accommodative.

    When asked if he felt any blame
    for keeping mum on Valerie Plame
    he denigrated the prosecutor
    though some others called him a straight shooter.

    There are many who have grown quite leery
    as every word of his they query.
    Why some still pay to hear him lecture
    is only open to conjecture.

    He no longer can be called a model
    when all he says is now just twaddle.
    But remember this, you who would berate him.
    Bob’s still a reporter, though now verbatim.
    ___________

    10 October 2006

    The Bob Woodward Story, Part II,
    or Bob’s State of Denial

    by Phil Linehan

    Quick, finish dinner! At the TV we must look
    to hear Woodward plug his latest book.
    It’s easy to learn Bob’s point of view
    for he’s on the networks, and on cable too,

    As we wait for his findings to be revealed
    we hope that nothing will be concealed.
    Will he throw any light on that odd love affair
    between George Bush and Tony Blair?

    When he sits face to face with 60 Minute’s Mike
    it’s awesome how they are so alike.
    It’s hard to decide whose demeanour is sternest
    as they prepare to discuss the book in earnest

    No levity here, no how are the folks?
    But we are all aware it’s no time for jokes.
    Have such austere expressions been seen before?
    Indeed they have, on Mount Rushmore.

    So we anxiously wait and with bated breath
    for Bob’s disclosures, we hope in depth.
    What will he tell us? What can we expect to learn?
    What inside stories that might cause concern?

    He addresses Wallace in ponderous tones
    as on and on and on he drones
    with that steady and unblinking gaze
    and then pauses for Mike his words to praise.


    As he gives all his phrases the self-same stress
    it‘s not easy their importance for us to guess.
    Could anyone ever consider terrific
    a delivery best called soporific?

    Once he decided his reporting role to abdicate,
    Was when Woodward began to pontificate.
    Now, should he find things get too hot at home,
    he could always hop on a plane to Rome.

    Newsweek says he knows how to excavate
    but that claim leaves room for much debate.
    We recall how he lauded Bush’s “moral determination”
    leaving none in doubt of his open admiration.

    But wait! What is reaching my disbelieving ears?
    The sound of Bob as he again changes gears?
    Can he really be saying that his erstwhile cronies
    Are nothing more than a bunch of phonies?

    He swears that Bush has been known to lie,
    and says things in Iraq have gone awry.
    So it’s obvious that he’s now jumping ship
    and has learned how to do a pancake flip.

    We’re mesmerised by his asseverations
    and dumbstruck at his aberrations.
    Is he telling us that he has seen the light
    in the book that he took two years to write?

    Alas! What he serves us is reheated hash
    when what we expected was a hot news flash.
    So what may we get when the Post’s straight shooter
    again hits the keys of his laptop computer?

    Will he tell us that tomorrow the sun will rise?
    That Polaris is seen in Northern skies?
    That Cheney’s is not the steadiest hand
    when he picks up a gun while he’s still half canned?

    Will he discover that Halliburton steals,
    charging millions for non-existent meals?
    Will he say Condi continues with her to’s and fro’s
    the reason for which God only knows?

    Will he warn us the CIA makes mistakes?
    Or tell us Laura is good at baking cakes?
    Will he say the Intelligence Service we cannot trust
    or drop another such nugget to leave us nonplussed?

    There is one question I feel I have to ask
    and hope that I’ll not be taken to task.
    While Rummy’s stuff may happen, or perhaps may not,
    for how much longer must we endure Bob’s tommy rot?

    As I wondered what became of the Bob I once admired,
    and, like many, whose footsteps to follow had aspired,
    I realized I’d overlooked a significant factor,
    That the Bob I was thinking of -- is Redford, the actor!

  3. I live near lockerbie and work in the town sometimes during uni holidays. The bomb went off a month before my second birthday, my mum saw it and apparently I did too, but I don't remember. Kind of a shame that after all that, there is just a single statue in Lockerbie now that nobody ever looks at. No visitors, nothing. All forgotten, the residents dont even mention it - not out of distaste or anything - because it's old and in the past. Seems like a waste to me.

Houston Press Insiders

  • Local food, music and news blasts
  • Free Stuff