Trouble with the law

I have always attempted to be a law-abiding citizen, yet things have happened from time to time, things beyond my power to control, which have put me in a nervous position, in regard to the law.

When I was about 10 years old our family took a vacation trip to Mexico. In Waco, Texas, we stayed overnight in a cabin camp (the precursor to the modern motel). My sister and I were playing in a large open space in front of our cabin when a large gentleman engaged me in conversation, asking about our trip, who I was traveling with, and a lot more questions that seemed strange to me -- even as a 10 year old.

After a few minutes he knocked on our cabin door, entered and engaged my Dad in serious conversation for about 10 minutes. When he left I asked my Dad about his visitor. He explained that the fellow was an FBI agent. They were on the trail of the people who had kidnapped a 10 year old boy from a Dallas home. Seems that the description of the boy matched my own description and the fellow was investigating my Dad and me -- just in case. After quite a serious grilling the fellow was satisfied that we were not the people he was looking for and he became quite friendly. Over a cup of coffee he told Dad about things we should see in Mexico, and he invited us to look up his brother, who lived in Omaha, when we got home. There was really no problem, but my Mother was visibly shaken, being mistaken for kidnappers -- even for just a moment.

Another time, before we were married, I decided to visit Jean at her farm home, south of Wisner, on my way home from Lincoln. I knew that I was running low on gas, but thought I could make it to the farm, where Jean's Dad would fill my tank. I was wrong. I ran out of gas about two miles short of my destination.

I proceeded to the first farm house I came to, a place off the road, with a long drive-way. I was sure I could at least make a phone call from there. It was very quiet as I approached the house. I wasn't sure there was anyone home. As I stepped on the porch a good-sized dog came out of the bushes and bit me on the leg, tearing my trousers.

With that the owner came to the door, and through the screen he called off his dog. He seemed unusually shy, almost afraid. After I explained my situation he reluctantly invited me into the house to make my phone call. He told me his story. ..

There had been a prison escape from the Penitentiary at Yankton, SD. Two escapees made their way to the Wisner area and had holed up at this farmer's home, holding the farmer and his wife hostage for three days, then leaving with the farmer's pick-up truck, a full tank of gasoline, and all the cash the couple had in the house. All during the time they had been there the family dog had been tame, even friendly, as if the escapees had been members of the family.

A few days after my experience there was a long story in the Omaha World Herald, telling of the couple's ordeal with the escapees. Right at the end of the story were the comments about the family dog making friends with the captors, and afterwards attacking a "harmless stranger." Harmless stranger, indeed! They didn't even give me name recognition in the story.

When I got out of the Army, in 1952, my wife Jean and I spent the winter in the South, making an extended tour around the Gulf of Mexico, with a memorable visit to Key West, Florida. Highway #1 extends from Key Largo, at the tip of mainland Florida, some 100 miles across the Florida Keys, to Key West, only 90 miles from Cuba. It is impossible to get lost -- there is only one road, but after the first few miles the novelty of a road just a few feet above the ocean wears off, and it ends up being quite a boring trip.

We had been on the road about an hour when we noticed a dirigible above, traveling in our direction, at about our speed. Anxious to try out a new movie camera, we stopped along the road and were taking pictures of the dirigible, when a jeep and two Navy Shore Police pulled up beside us. With guns drawn, they told us in no uncertain terms that we were violating national security by photographing that Navy dirigible and we would have to accompany them to their base in Key West.

I attempted to argue that we were just tourists and had no ulterior motive.. I was getting nowhere with my argument, when suddenly, maybe a quarter of a mile back, there was an accident -- one car just swerved into the path of an oncoming vehicle. The two SPs were torn -- should they stay with us, the possible saboteurs, or should they give aid to the accident victims. They left us, with instructions to stay where we were -- they'd be back to take care of us later. We stayed, for perhaps 20 minutes. They were preoccupied with the accident. We hated to bother them. Maybe they forgot about us. We left. We were relieved when no one came to arrest us -- Oh yeah, the pictures turned out great.

One time we hosted a German student, Christian, at our home in McCook. A highlight of his trip to America was to be a visit to Washington, DC, where we joined our daughter, Marie, and her family, who were attending a conference in the city. It had been a great trip. We had already seen most of the usual tourist sights, (including Christian's top priority, the Hard Rock Café) and were now on our tour of the White House.

As usual, there was a long line, and one by one we were examined for concealed weapons. As I approached the head of the line we heard beeping. The guards summoned a lady in plain clothes, who asked me, politely, to accompany her -- Jean could come too.

Our lady, and two husky guards, took us two floors below, to a room with two small cells in the bowels of the White House. There, two more guards began to wave wands over my body. The beeping was loud and quite unnerving.

At this point our lady identified herself as an FBI Agent and began asking a lot of questions -- where we came from, how long we'd been in Washington, where we going next, and finally, if I had had any medical tests recently? I had to think, then asked if a thalium treadmill test, some three months before, would count? She was non-committal, but asked for the name of my doctor, and where she could reach him by phone. I told her as best I could. She left us in the care of the two husky guards.

After perhaps 20 minutes she returned to report that she had been in touch with my doctor. He confirmed the tests. She said that the thalium could stay in my system for as much as 6 months. I was free to go now, to catch up with our tour. She said that I would set off two more nuclear signals on the tour, but the men on the monitors had been notified that I'd be coming, and they would ignore my nuclear signal.

After our White House tour we decided to have lunch at the Washington Train Station, which had been converted into huge restaurant, with numerous stalls, representing cuisine from countries worldwide -- a very interesting place to eat.

We were enjoying our lunch when Christian, our German friend, leaned over and whispered in my ear, "I don't want to alarm you, but are you sure they believed your story about the thalium treadmill? Look over at that table, by the window. There's that FBI Agent that took you to the White House jail."

Coincidence! That FBI Agent just happened to be having her lunch at the same place as we. Surely, it was just a coincidence -- wasn't it?