Buck-passing bonanza
© 2001 WorldNetDaily.com
Six weeks after the first U.S. anthrax-related death, authorities in big cities –like, say, Los Angeles – are now prepared to handle and investigate calls regarding mysterious powder received through the mail, right? Well, you would think so. Unfortunately, the answer is: NOT!
One evening last week, a resident of Los Angeles by the name of Naomi McCotter noticed a fine powdery substance on the glass-top table where she puts her incoming mail. Since she lives alone, and the table is nowhere near the kitchen or bathroom (where flour, face powder, etc. might be) – she was naturally concerned. She also remembered that one of the letters she had opened earlier was from Florida, the first place that anthrax is reported to have been sent through the mail.
Miss McCotter did what most of us would have done – in fact, what we are told to do under such circumstances. She called 911. She soon found out, however, from the 911 operator that she really should have called the 800 Anthrax Hotline. Naomi quickly called the hotline, who told her she should call 911. "I already called 911, and they referred me to you," she protested. The agent restated that Naomi must call 911 and demand the Los Angeles Police Department come to her house. Naomi then placed her third phone call, and this time the LAPD came.
When the police arrived, they asked her a series of questions such as "Do you work for the government?" and "Are you a politician?" and "Have you received any threats?" When Miss McCotter answered "No" to all the questions, they told her that the powder probably wasn't anthrax, but they couldn't tell by looking, "Only the FBI can tell you that," they said. The officers suggested she go to her doctor the next day and get tested for anthrax. "If the test is positive," they said, "then the FBI will come to your house and collect the evidence."
So, the next morning, Miss McCotter called her doctor, only to find out that doctors' offices can't test for anthrax. Miss McCotter then called the Centers for Disease Control which told her to contact her local Los Angeles Health Department. Miss McCotter called her local public health department which told her to call the CDC. So, she picked up the phone, yet again, and called the CDC, which said they are directing all calls to the Los Angeles Health Department. Miss McCotter said, "I already called the Los Angeles Health Department and they referred me to you."
(Who's on first?)
Persistent, Miss McCotter recalled the Los Angeles Health Department, and after explaining her story to several different agents several different times, was told that she could only be tested for anthrax if the FBI gave them permission to do so. Miss McCotter then called the FBI and spoke to two different agents who had to put her on hold to find out what the procedure was.
When an agent finally got back to the phone, he explained that only "high risk" individuals were being tested, and since Miss McCotter is not a government employee, she would not be tested. The agent then explained that the anthrax expert at the FBI could almost guarantee that the powder on Miss McCotter's table was not anthrax because "no cases have tested positive west of the Mississippi." However, he explained, if you do get sick, go to the doctor. Miss McCotter responded, "Well before Sept. 11, there were no cases east of the Mississippi either!"
(Meanwhile, the white powder is still sitting on the table in Miss McCotter's home.)
Certainly not satisfied with the last phone call, Miss McCotter called a local infectious-disease doctor who told her that she was going about it all backwards, "Since you have the powder, test the powder!" What a revelation. Funny how the LAPD, the CDC, the Los Angeles Health Department, the ACDC and the FBI didn't think of that. But are you really surprised?
Our "never, never, never give up" girl then called the FBI to try and convince them to test the powder still on her table. And this, folks, is where it gets ridiculous. (And you thought it had already reached the nuts level!)
The FBI agent told Miss McCotter that the LAPD are the only ones trained to tell by looking at powder if it is anthrax or not, and that the FBI doesn't have the capability or training to test the powder! When Miss McCotter explained the LAPD had already been to her house and told her they don't know what is and isn't anthrax, but the FBI does, the agent, to her credit, made a call on Naomi's behalf and had a Hazardous Material Team officer call Naomi. This officer told Miss McCotter that "since no anthrax has been found west of the Mississippi," she should be fine. "But if you get sick," he said, "go to the doctor." He also told her that the LAPD was wrong, it is actually the Fire Department that is trained to know what is and isn't anthrax.
So, Miss McCotter called the Fire Department, and they told her to call the Los Angeles Police Department, who is then supposed to alert the Terrorist Early Warning team.
(Oh, boy.)
Miss McCotter re-called the LAPD, re-told her story and asked them to contact TEW. "What's TEW?" the LAPD asked.
(I Don't Know's on second.)
The officer then told Miss McCotter to call the 800 Anthrax hotline (which she had done way up in paragraph three.) So, she hung up and re-called the anthrax hot line and re-told her story yet again (which kept getting longer and longer.) Larry at the anthrax hot line in Sacramento listened to Naomi's story and said, "We need to investigate this situation. In the meantime, call the Los Angeles emergency line." Naomi's next call was to the Los Angeles emergency hot line where Carla said she would investigate and call her back. It took our persistent protagonist two days to get two people interested in her case.
After a couple of hours, the LAPD – TEW Team – called Miss McCotter. He explained that California just doesn't have enough labs to test all the suspicious powders. He explained that she should rest assured the powder on her table couldn't be anthrax. "How do you know?" asked Miss McCotter. "Because anthrax hasn't been found west of the Mississippi." When Miss McCotter protested, the agent finally said he would send an officer to her house to collect the powder, and that they would store it for 60 days. "If you get sick in the next 60 days," he said, "we'll test the powder."
(What's on third?)
Miss McCotter called her landlord and informed them that the LAPD was on their way over to collect the mysterious powder (which had been sitting on the table for two days since it was first noticed.) It turns out that they sent someone who is reportedly an expert in anthrax. He took one look at the powder, called Miss McCotter and assured her that the powder was not anthrax. "How do you know?" she asked. "Because anthrax isn't white and it can't be put into white powder." He swept up the powder, discarded it, disinfected the table and left.
Miss McCotter's mysterious white powder is finally gone, and it probably wasn't anthrax anyway, because as we are now well aware, anthrax can't be found west of the Mississippi. Besides that, anthrax isn't white, and it can't be made into a powder. But if Miss McCotter gets sick, she should call the doctor.
Thank you, Officer Abbot and Agent Costello!
For Education And Discussion Only. Not For Commercial Use.
