It would appear they're looking at people who aren't dangerous and not looking at the ones who might be...
Spy-file release no Clancy thriller
Police relinquish activists' dossiers, but most lack plot
By Michael Bedan And John C. Ensslin, Rocky Mountain News
September 4, 2002
Protesters protest, and they were in quintessential form Tuesday even as they waited to find out if previous protests - or other "peaceful, legal activities" - had canonized them in the Denver police "spy files."
Typical responses from those who submitted a request for a file on themselves and left disappointed: "Damn," or a morose, "I guess I'm clean."
The day started with a slow trickle of local activists and a few journalists filtering through the Denver police headquarters, the first time citizens could find out if they had a file.
The activist deluge hit about 5 p.m., creating long lines and mini-demonstrations.
They passed out fliers while they waited for their files: "Big Brother Is Watching You," one flier read - bold-face words surrounding a photocopy of a smiling Mayor Wellington Webb.
They wore telling T-shirts: "Tyranny Response Team."
They toted signs: "In case you did not know, there is a war going on here: DPD (Pigs) vs. The Denver People!"
Most of the activists left empty-handed.
In all, 167 requests were processed and 145 people left without a "spy file," which means either one does not exist or the file is not among those police have decided to purge.
Only purged files will be released, and 22 were released Tuesday - 17 on individuals and five on groups.
A three-judge panel appointed by Webb recommended destroying the files, kept on some 3,277 individuals and 208 organizations.
Webb is no stranger to intelligence files. The mayor had a file of his own in the 1970s, an FBI file that came to light when an informant admitted breaking into a Socialist Workers Party office.
Among the spy files to be purged, the FBI has requested that 22 files be kept secret because they pertain to ongoing federal investigations, which left some people wondering if their file is among those. The possibility irks Douglas Vaughan Jr.
"How far back does that go?" Vaughan asked Lt. Steve Carter.
"I don't have an answer for you," Carter said. "The only thing I can tell you is that in the files that we are purging, you are not contained in that."
An additional 100 requests went unprocessed Tuesday night.
Denver police "just got a little overwhelmed," mayoral spokesman Andrew Hudson said.
Among the hundreds who showed up Tuesday, Steve Schweitzberger got his "spy file."
The file's summary report read: "Steve Schweitzberger came to police with a document he had prepared for the chief. He suggested an idea he had for a 'Mena Monitor,' a recording device he wanted to attach to all police officer's holsters. He also discussed in his document his role in (a) march to protest police action in (the Sept. 29, 1999) shooting of Ismael Mena. Investigation disclosed Steve Schweitzberger lives at 6720 W. Summit in Littleton, Colorado, and his motor vehicle record reveals he has 13 vehicles registered (to) him. There is no previous intelligence or criminal record on the subject. In his document, he included a picture of a cross, which intelligence detectives had observed being carried in (a) recent rally against the police at the Mayor's office and at the police building."
Schweitzberger cradled his own sign Tuesday: "Listed for this?"
Yep.
"I invented a holster that turns on a recorder when an officer removes his gun from the holster," Schweitzberger explained. He invented the holster after Mena was killed in a drug raid on the wrong home.
"For them to be critical of me for inventing a holster that would take away unanswered questions . . ."
Schweitzberger's was among the more revealing files perused by reporters Tuesday. Most of them were page after page of blacked-out names.
Activist Barbara Cohen's "spy file" implied she was affiliated with a particular motorcycle enthusiast group.
"Trust me, I've never been on a motorcycle in my life," she said.
Magdalen Seamon said she knew she would have a file.
"I guess they've caught me on camera at protests," the 76-year-old said.
"That's the only thing they can go by."
She says she has protested in Nevada, Arizona and Colorado. She demonstrates with The American Friends Service Committee (the Quakers) and the Colorado Coalition for Prevention of Nuclear War.
"Because I am older and always angry at the government and things that happen," the retired French, Spanish and English professor explained.
Johnson: The few . . . the proud . . . the guys on city's spy list
September 4, 2002
They're telling me I am not shady enough.
Oh, please. Look at me!
I am a cop-hating, race-baiting, gay-loving, left-leaning Negro liberal anarchist. If my readers, who tell me this all the time, know of my danger, how come the Denver cops don't?
But they tell me I don't have a police department spy file. Either I'm not doing my job well enough, or they aren't.
I want to be a dangerous man. At least to be perceived as such.
To find out, I filled out a simple, one-page form and waited a few hours in the police headquarters lobby.
I want a recount.
We all do.
It was the most fascinating several hours I've spent in some time, mingling with folks who just knew they were bad.
Guys like Jumbo. He figured the cops were on him, had long had his number.
Which is another thing: I need a handle. Almost everyone waiting in the lobby for their spy file had one.
Jumbo, as he introduced himself, actually is Richard Pace, 49, of Denver. "I just got busted two days ago," he said conspiratorily as we sat there, him trying hard not to give me his true name.
Sit with a man a while, though, and you learn his real name, and that the "bust" was a $113 ticket for speeding near Breckenridge.
Jumbo looks like the kind of guy the cops would want to keep an eye on.
He's wearing a black beret, black jump boots, camouflage pants and a three-strand necklace made from a whistle and aerosol spray can buttons.
He says he is an aspiring writer, and attended every day the trial of Oklahoma City bomber Timothy McVeigh.
Well, until the day families of the victims complained to federal security men that he was stalking them.
They hauled him in. So he just knows he has a file.
If he does, "Oh, I'll be happy," Jumbo says. "It'll be like a badge of honor. I'm an anarchist - I've never even owned a Visa card, never had a mortgage. I'm a bomb-thrower - not an angry one. It's all a game, really, that we play with the cops. A freaky game."
There is a certain nervousness that comes with awaiting your file. There is an urgency to know what - if anything - they might have on you.
The young woman seated in the back row I just knew was in on a post-Sept. 11 police-harassment or surveillance beef.
She was dressed from neck to sandals in a flowing robe, her head swathed in a scarf, what she said was a hajib.
The problem was, she looked Irish.
Her name, she said, was Paulie Rainbow, which I figured was just another handle, until she produced her driver's license.
"Let's just say my family and I had a falling out awhile ago,'' she said.
Paulie Rainbow, 41, was headed to the Middle East for her job with a software company. She wanted to test out the few Arab garments she'd amassed, she said.
She'd always wondered if she was on some list, she explained. Since 1981 she's been to virtually every protest gathering there has been in Denver, she said.
"Everybody likes a parade," Paulie Rainbow said. "I was young, it was a social thing."
Her lunch hour was running out when police Lt. Steve Carter called her name. She had no file.
"I think they're lying," she said.
"And why not? There's no double-check, no independent check-and-balance of this system."
My name was called next. I would be the 25th person or group checked Tuesday morning. Lt. Carter handed me back my original form.
An "X" was checked at the bottom next to this single line: "The requesting party was not on the list of files due to be purged from the system, so no information was provided."
Carter said only one group and one individual to that point discovered there was a spy file on them. The individual was Priscilla Falcon. She was sitting next to me the whole time.
She holds a doctorate of international studies and is a professor of political science at the University of Northern Colorado. Her printout was dotted with Kennedy assassination-type censor blackouts.
"An Hispanic activist since 1972," the top read. She was awaiting the delivery of the full file.
Beginning in 1997 to the present day, she participated in protests outside the Mexican consulate in Denver against the North American Free Trade Agreement. It was enough to put her on the list.
"It doesn't suprise me,'' she said, bouncing her 3-year-old grandson as she waited. "The police department and the U.S. government tend to harass those who don't agree with domestic and foreign policy."
Will being on the list change her activities? "Never," Priscilla Falcon said. "I will teach my grandson of this type of interference and intimidation, and to oppose them."
The hour is growing late. Jumbo still has not heard.
"If I am not on the list," he says, "I won't be bummed. Oh, but if I'm on it, I'm framing mine."
Lt. Carter walks into the lobby and intones his name. Jumbo isn't on the list, he is told.
"Damn!" he says, clearly dejected.
"That's OK," he finally says, looking at his request form.
"Maybe I'll frame this."
Bill Johnson's column appears Wednesday, Friday and Saturday. Call him at (303) 892-2763 or e-mail him at johnsonw@RockyMountainNews.com
