-Caveat Lector-
TENNESSEE UNDERWORLD
Gore plays fixer to 'crooked' uncle
How vice president used police to 'take care' of friends, family
Editor's note: This is Part 2 of a three-part exclusive
WorldNetDaily investigative series on allegations that Vice
President Al Gore and his Tennessee associates have thwarted
criminal investigations involving friends and family members and
have engaged in abuse of power and illegal fund raising.
In Part 1, "Al Gore's Uncle Whit," yesterday, WorldNetDaily
revealed that Gore's uncle and confidant, retired judge Whit
LaFon, has been targeted as an alleged drug trafficker by federal
and state law enforcement officials in Tennessee.
Part 2, in today's edition, involves allegations that Gore has
routinely relied on his longtime friend and supporter Larry
Wallace, director of the Tennessee Bureau of Investigation, to
"take care" of criminal matters involving Gore's family and
friends.
The series was researched and written by native Tennessee
reporters Charles C. Thompson II and Tony Hays. Thompson is a
long-time veteran of network news, having been a founding
producer of ABC's "20/20," as well as Mike Wallace's producer at
CBS's "60 Minutes." Hays is an experienced journalist whose
recent 20-part series on narcotics trafficking received an award
from the Tennessee Press Association.
Part 3 will be published in tomorrow's edition of WorldNetDaily.
By Charles Thompson II and Tony Hays
� 2000, Charles C. Thompson II and Tony Hays
SAVANNAH, Tenn. -- According to a senior official with the
Tennessee Bureau of Investigation, the state's premier
law-enforcement agency, Vice President Al Gore Jr. routinely
contacted his longtime friend and supporter TBI Director Larry
Wallace for assistance with criminal matters involving Gore's
family and political cronies.
Speaking on condition of anonymity, the official stated that on
at least four occasions during the past two years, while sitting
in Wallace's office, a secretary would enter the room and
announce, "Director Wallace, Vice President Gore is on the line
for you." The official, who was intimately involved in criminal
investigations, understood that the calls were related to
criminal cases. According to this same source, Wallace
frequently told senior staffers that Gore had put the arm on him
to "take care" of criminal matters involving Gore's "crooked
[expletive] uncle," retired judge Whit LaFon, brother to Gore's
mother, Pauline LaFon Gore.
LaFon, 82, who according to one senior political correspondent is
"as close to Gore as you can get," was apparently also in
frequent need of protection from the TBI and other
law-enforcement agencies. At least twice while LaFon was a state
prosecutor and later a judge, federal prosecutors attempted to
indict him for bribery and extortion under the federal Hobbes
Act. He has also been under investigation by federal and state
agencies for public corruption, alleged narcotics trafficking and
desecration of a Native American burial mound.
The Gore campaign declined to answer questions about LaFon, who
denied that he had any involvement with illegal drugs. LaFon
recently bragged to the Sun newspaper in his hometown of Jackson,
Tenn., that his nephew visited him often in Jackson and at his
cabin on the Tennessee River and that his family shared a skybox
with the Gore family during the Democratic National Convention in
Los Angeles.
Wallace had no comment for this story, despite repeated calls
over a three-month period.
The fact that Wallace was helping Gore and his uncle was
well-known among a number of TBI higher-ups, according to many
former and current agents, as well as three past directors of the
TBI. During Wallace's tenure, the once highly respected TBI has
been laid low by ever-increasing charges of institutional
corruption, causing wholesale defections.
John Carney, who headed the TBI 10 years ago and is now the
district attorney in Clarksville, Tenn., said, "The TBI is in sad
shape. Nobody trusts it because it's totally dominated by
politics."
Former TBI Director Arzo Carson, who drafted the 1980 legislation
to take the TBI outside the governor's control, agreed, saying he
is "bitterly disappointed" with what Tennessee Bureau of
Investigation has become.
"The TBI is really great for getting small fry, but for some
reason, they are never able to make cases against the rich and
famous, especially if these folks are politically
well-connected," said one federal prosecutor.
Wallace, a tall, rugged individual, began his law-enforcement
career as a 20-year-old patrolman on the Athens, Tenn., Police
Department in 1964. He then served with the Tennessee Highway
Patrol for seven years before joining the TBI in 1973.
He was only a field agent for three years, but some of his
contemporaries never forgot nor forgave what they considered his
lack of courage in the face of danger.
Retired agent Bill Thompson said that Wallace once left him in
the lurch by not showing up to arrest a multiple murderer, whose
case was assigned to Wallace.
"Jimmy Dale Smith was the murderer. He was about the baddest
character in rural eastern Tennessee back then," Thompson said.
Thompson had learned that Smith would be playing poker in a club
one night in the shadows of the Great Smokey Mountains. When
Wallace failed to show to make the collar himself, Thompson
positioned himself just inside the club and snared Smith when the
killer arrived. He stuck his pistol in Smith's neck and
handcuffed him.
"I heard all about Larry Wallace's cowardice. I knew better than
to take him along as a back-up when there was going to be
gunplay," said George Haynes, another retired TBI agent.
"George Haynes and Bill Thompson are the real thing," Carney
said. "George killed at least two men in the line of duty, and
Bill was there to back George up during one of those shoot-outs."
According to Robert Lawson, the former commissioner of public
safety and Wallace's one-time boss, "Everybody in law enforcement
knows that Larry Wallace isn't going anywhere near where bullets
are flying."
Wallace left the Tennessee Bureau of Investigation in late 1976
when he was elected sheriff of McMinn County occupying that
office for four years.
He returned to TBI in 1980. Seven years after Wallace's return,
he incurred the wrath of Carson, who suspected Wallace of leaking
secrets from a 1987 federal grand jury to high-ranking members of
then-Gov. Ned McWherter's cabinet.
Wallace used family connections to become the uniformed head --
colonel -- of the Tennessee Highway Patrol, or THP. His
then-wife Charlotte and her family were big in the Democratic
Party. He asked his in-laws to intercede with the governor, and
it worked. He landed the job.
According to former members of the Tennessee Highway Patrol,
Wallace involved himself whenever a prominent politician had a
traffic accident on a state highway or had a dust-up with the
law. One such case involved state Sen. John Ford, who allegedly
fired a pistol at a trucker on Interstate 40 near Lexington,
Tenn., in 1990. Ford was a member of the powerful
African-American Ford political dynasty in Memphis. A Dallas
trucker reported the shooting to the Highway Patrol station in
Jackson, Tenn., around 4:30 p.m. The Jackson troopers called
Nashville headquarters for guidance, and according to a former
THP official, Wallace said, "Don't stop that car (Ford's). Let
it go."
At this point, there was adequate time to apprehend Ford on the
interstate and search his car for the weapon. But because of
Wallace's order, Ford escaped and wasn't questioned until the
next day. By that time, there was no pistol found in his
Mercedes-Benz.
Although a bullet was recovered from the truck, Ford accused the
trucker of making everything up. A jury in Jackson acquitted
Ford of all charges.
Lawson said that he, like Carson before him, became convinced
that Wallace was bootlegging highly sensitive criminal
investigative material to politicians who were under
investigation in order to curry favor with them.
The primary motivation for the TBI director selection committee
and Gov. Ned McWherter to pick Wallace, according to former
director Carson, was self-preservation.
"At that time, the TBI was feared by all politicians, regardless
of their political party," Carson said. "The bureau had sent
many corrupt Tennessee officials (33 out of Tennessee's 95
sheriffs) to jail. The politicians obviously thought that TBI's
fangs had to be pulled."
What better way, Carson said, to control the TBI than have a weak
individual head it, someone who would undermine the organization,
keep the governor and other officials thoroughly apprised as to
ongoing investigations and terminate politically sensitive
investigations before they became public issues.
A sampling of aborted investigations under Wallace involving
politicians as well as institutional cover-ups bears out Carson's
assessment of Wallace.
Among Wallace's first acts as director was to abolish the
agency's highly regarded public corruption unit. Wallace went
even further, ordering his agents never to open an investigation
in any of Tennessee's 95 counties without first notifying the
sheriff, if the sheriff was the target of the investigation.
Rank-and-file agents and their supervisors were outraged.
"We were hamstrung. There was no way we could investigate a
crooked sheriff anymore," one supervisor said.
Wallace also allegedly interfered in the murder investigation
implicating his own son, Larry Dean Wallace.
In 1994, at least three TBI agents and supervisors came to
Wallace and told him that his son, Larry Dean Wallace, then in
his late 20s, was heavily involved in drug trafficking.
When former TBI drug agent Milton Bowling told Wallace about his
son's drug dealings, the director reportedly became glassy-eyed
and said, "You're to stay away from this case."
A year later, Larry Dean lay in ambush and shot to death James
Edward Wilkerson over $1,500 that Larry Dean owed Wilkerson for
drugs.
Larry Dean then loaded the body into the trunk of Wilkerson's car
and arranged to have a wrecker haul the car some 10 miles from
the scene of the crime.
After confessing to second-degree murder, Larry Dean was
sentenced to a 15-year prison term. Never imprisoned, he served
his time in a cushy clerical job, all because, in the words of
his attorney, Hal Hardin, "His father is the state's top
law-enforcement officer."
Wallace faced a political quandary in 1994. His staunch
supporter, McWherter, was retiring as governor and would not be
able to help him when he came up for another six-year appointment
as TBI director in 1998.
Bill Morris, the mayor of Shelby County (Memphis) was locked in a
heated contest for the Democratic gubernatorial nomination with
Phil Bredesen, the mayor of Nashville, and eight other
candidates. Even though Morris appeared to be a winner, Wallace
hedged his bets, hoping to be on the side that won.
But before Morris' campaign left the launching pad, a bombshell
landed. A hard-hitting series by investigative reporter Louis
Graham of the Commercial Appeal newspaper in Memphis inspired a
TBI criminal investigation of Morris. The newspaper documented
100 events since 1987 in which Morris allegedly used prison
inmates to cater his political and personal social events.
Wallace sent his No. 2 man, Robert Reeves, to coordinate this
delicate investigation and try to rescue Morris. TBI agents
based in Memphis were upset by Reeves' orders to investigate only
two of Morris' subordinates -- his executive assistant, Robert C.
Lanier, and Garner Branch, who was in charge of dietary services
at the Shelby County Correctional Center -- and to leave Morris
alone.
Roger Moore, an assistant district attorney in Nashville
appointed special prosecutor, worked hand in hand with Reeves.
According to a well-placed source in the Shelby County District
Attorney's Office, Reeves presented evidence to the grand jury.
But, according to one of the grand jurors, her fellow jurors
became incensed by Reeve's blatant attempts to insulate the mayor
from blame.
"People (on the grand jury) were awfully mad," the grand juror
said, and they voted to indict Morris on six felony and three
misdemeanor charges.
Reeves hastened back to Nashville to explain what happened to
Wallace.
When Reeves emerged from Wallace's 3rd-floor offices nearly four
hours later, he was visibly shaken.
"Larry told me to go back to Memphis and unindict Morris," said
Reeves, according to a senior TBI official.
Five weeks later, rather than face the defiant grand jurors
again, special prosecutor Moore and Reeves appeared before
Criminal Court Judge Joseph B. Dailey and signed a motion
dismissing all the charges against Morris. They left the
indictments standing against Lanier and Branch.
"Why would they drop the charges against the mayor when my
husband only did as he was instructed to?" Branch's wife asked.
Both Lanier and Branch later pleaded no contest and were placed
on probation. Reeves publicly rebuked them for not having "the
courage to stand up in court and admit their guilt."
Morris never recovered from the quashed indictments. Phil
Bredesen beat him, who was in turn beaten by Republican Don
Sundquist.
Secret test site for Hillary's plan A lifelong Democrat, Wallace
quickly switched his allegiance to the Republican Party with
great fanfare. Although he kept close contact with many of his
Democratic buddies, such as Gore, he began ingratiating himself
with members of the Sundquist administration.
Early in the Clinton administration, while Hillary Clinton was
unsuccessfully attempting to cobble together a nationwide
health-care system, then-Gov. McWherter contacted Bill Clinton
and Gore and volunteered Tennessee as a test site for Hillary's
health plan.
About 1.1 million poor and uninsured people were enrolled in the
program. The federal government allowed Medicaid dollars to be
diverted into TennCare, and the program quickly became the
financial and criminal equivalent of the Black Hole of Calcutta.
Despite the fact that the state contributed more than 25 percent
of its annual budget to the program, TennCare was still
under-funded.
"We couldn't get the big guys (insurance companies) in. We got
the fly-by-nights," said a federal prosecutor who has tried a
number of TennCare fraud cases. "Many of these insurance
companies who joined TennCare were just fronts for legislators,
their families and other public officials who raked in money
while the poor were denied services to which they were legally
entitled."
The program was a revolving door for administrators, eight in
only six years, and now threatens to bankrupt the state.
Wallace established a health-care fraud unit, which many TBI
agents described as a joke. Even so, some members of the unit
were aggressive and vigorously pursued those who bilked TennCare.
According to TBI agents and federal prosecutors, OmniCare, a
health insurance company closely allied with the politically
potent Ford family of Memphis, was one of the most scandal-ridden
of the 12 managed-care organizations participating in TennCare.
In 1995, TBI agents arrested a Nashville woman who admitted
forging more than 140 applications for TennCare while working as
an independent contractor for OmniCare. Pamela Renee King said
she obtained the data contained on the false applications while
working as a fitness consultant in the health center at the
sprawling Saturn automobile plant in Spring Hill, Tenn.
TBI investigator Shana Roberts said King was paid between $13 and
$17 for each application. As long as the scam went undisclosed,
OmniCare received $111 per patient per month for patients who
didn't exist or who were fraudulently enrolled in the program.
King was the second OmniCare representative to be caught by TBI
agents in 1995. Harold McGhee, a former employee at the Shelby
County Corrections Center, admitted to agents he had enrolled 202
inmates that he knew already had medical coverage and were
therefore ineligible for TennCare.
Both King and McGhee were convicted of mail fraud and making
false statements. Each received a sentences of about a year in
prison.
'The Fords had gotten him' Although he wasn't a company officer
or a member of OmniCare's board of directors, former Rep.
Harold Ford was publicly identified in 1996 by the Commercial
Appeal as being associated with OmniCare. Ford, an
African-American, was first elected to Congress in 1974, beating
a white incumbent. Ford's district encompassed most of Memphis,
which became majority black.
Ford had a rocky political career, and he allied himself and his
family with Gore. He was indicted on federal bank, mail-fraud
and conspiracy charges in 1987, stemming from $1 million of loans
he had received from banks controlled by Democratic politician
Jake Butcher and his brother C.H. Butcher. The money was loaned
for business purposes, but was allegedly converted to personal
use by Ford. His first trial resulted in a hung jury. A second
jury acquitted him.
When the House banking scandal broke in 1993, it was revealed
that Ford had written 388 bad checks totaling $552,447 at the
bank between 1988 and 1991. Although he was one of the worst
offenders, a special prosecutor's probe found no criminal
wrongdoing on Ford's part.
Ford retired from Congress in 1996 and was succeeded by his son,
Harold Ford Jr., a move that angered some local black leaders who
resented the Ford family's belief that the congressional seat
belonged to them rather than to the people. At the time, Ford
Jr. was only 24 years old, the youngest member of Congress. It
was Harold Ford, Jr. whom Gore picked to make one of the
Democratic convention's keynote addresses.
In addition to Harold Ford Sr.'s older brother, John, a state
senator, other Ford brothers who have been actively involved in
family politics include: 1) Joe Ford, who ran for mayor of
Memphis in 1999; 2) former state Rep. Emmitt Ford, who served
time in a federal prison in the late 1990s for failure to file
tax returns on income of $700,000; and 3) Dr. James Ford, an
ophthalmologist, a member of the Shelby County Commission and a
TennCare provider.
A hard-charging young TBI agent, David Loftus, who worked on the
Shelby County Corrections Center portion of the OmniCare
investigations, told his colleagues he was bound and determined
to find out why the Ford family's involvement in OmniCare was not
being taken more seriously by the TBI.
"The evidence showed that the Fords were up to their eyeballs in
OmniCare and yet nobody was holding their feet to the fire," said
Loftus. Even though an assistant U.S. attorney in Memphis warned
Loftus to be more discreet "about what he said about the Fords or
they will get you," he continued to probe the Ford family's
involvement with TennCare.
Loftus had nearly finished his two-year stint as a probationary
agent with TBI and had recently received an outstanding
evaluation from his supervisor, when suddenly he was summoned to
TBI headquarters and was summarily fired. No reason was given.
He was going boating that day with three of his colleagues on a
lake near Nashville. The others were laughing and drinking beer
when he arrived. They saw his long face and asked him what had
happened. "I got fired," Loftus said.
"I knew immediately that the Fords had gotten him," one agent
said. "There was no way that Larry Wallace was going to let a
rookie agent upset the Fords."
'Good Ol' Boys Roundup' Agents say that TBI cover-ups weren't
limited to just protecting politicians.
In the summer of 1995, Tennesseans and the rest of the nation
were dismayed by the news that a group of off-duty federal, state
and local law-enforcement officers had gathered in May for an
event known as the "Good Ol' Boys Roundup," where racist
activities were apparently encouraged.
Camping along the banks of the Ocoee River in southeast Tennessee
for three days of whitewater rafting and beer drinking, 300
law-enforcement officers and their friends, including federal and
TBI agents, were exposed to some virulent racist displays.
Vendors sold T-shirts depicting the Rev. Martin Luther King Jr.
in gun-sight cross hairs and others bearing the slogan "Boyz on
the Hood" with police officers surrounding two black men
spread-eagle over a police cruiser.
The reaction was swift from Washington. President Clinton
denounced the roundup as "an event literally overflowing with
racism." Both the Justice and Treasury departments opened
wide-ranging investigations.
Gov. Sundquist announced there would be an investigation of the
roundup to be headed by Wallace. There was only one hitch --
Wallace had reportedly attended the roundup.
Wallace handed over the day-to-day management of the
investigation to his general counsel, David Jennings. Richard
Brogan, TBI's special agent in charge in Chattanooga, handled the
fieldwork and some of the interrogations. Like Wallace, Brogan
had also allegedly attended the roundup.
State arson investigators Robert Frost and Dennis Ledbetter said
that Ledbetter provided Jennings with a statement putting Wallace
inside the meeting grounds. Ledbetter said he cooked a steak for
Wallace.
Agent Lee Porter wrote a memo stating that Brogan and his wife,
Brogan's assistant, Brooks Wilkins and his wife, and agent T.J.
Jordan and his wife were present.
Jennings turned his investigative file over to Jeff Long, head of
the intelligence division, for further processing. Long was one
of the most respected senior officers in the Tennessee Bureau of
Investigation.
Long, who subsequently resigned from the TBI and is now a
prosecutor serving four counties in Middle Tennessee, said that
Ledbetter's statement and Porter's memo were missing from the
file Jennings gave him.
"Jennings told me that no further investigation was required. I
took him at his word," Long said. "In retrospect, I wish I
hadn't."
During a televised news conference, Wallace reassured Sundquist,
who appeared with him, that neither he nor any of his senior
officers had attended the roundup.
Bat guano Another institutional cover-up, which is still haunting
Wallace and the TBI, involves a substance known as bat "guano," a
genteel way of saying feces.
In 1994, the TBI sought accreditation from a nonprofit
organization, the Commission on Accreditation for Law Enforcement
Agencies, Inc., or CALEA. Thousands of dollars of tax money and
many hours of employee time were allocated to the project, headed
by Jennings.
CALEA sets rigorous guidelines regarding an agency's training,
record management and storage of evidence. That last category
appeared to be an insurmountable obstacle to the TBI's
accreditation. Evidence of upcoming cases and cases under appeal
were spread willy-nilly in agents' offices throughout the
headquarters building.
This practice was strictly counter to state and federal court
guidelines requiring a rigid chain of custody. Evidence was
supposed to be logged in and preserved in a tightly controlled
vault. TBI had a vault, but it was not nearly adequate to hold
all the evidence.
Bulky evidence was stored in a separate building referred to as
the old cafeteria. Two or three rooms in the building were
filled with bat guano taken from a cave in the foothills of the
Cumberland Mountains. This fertilizer had been advertised in
nationally circulated magazines devoted to the drug culture.
Bat droppings are supposed to make marijuana grow faster and
hardier. The guano is also guaranteed to work miracles on
vegetable gardens and flowers.
The guano had been seized from Robert Senick, who ran a company
called Bat Majic. At the time of the accreditation, Senick was
awaiting trial on drug charges.
In addition to Senick's exotic fertilizer, an elaborate
hydroponic marijuana growing system was also crammed into the old
cafeteria.
The day before the CALEA inspectors arrived, agents say that
Jennings, along with Reeves, Wallace's most trusted aide, decided
to get rid of everything in the old cafeteria and also throw away
or hide many other pieces of evidence.
Jennings and Reeves allegedly both looted piles of the Bat Majic
guano for their own use. Reeves hauled a pickup truck full of
bat dung away to fertilize his flower garden. Ten to 12 other
employees helped themselves to the guano. These same employees
also destroyed evidence, according to a TBI memo written after
the event.
Bob Pearce, then TBI's assistant director for administration, was
seen carrying away five bulging duffels and three to four boxes
of evidence. The boxes and bags contained hunting rifles,
shotguns, pistols, assault weapons, sheaf knives, switchblades
and bayonets, according to multiple TBI sources.
After the Tennessee Bureau of Investigation cheated its way
through the CALEA exam, Pearce brought back just two of the
boxes. Nobody is quite sure what happened to the rest of the
evidence. Pearce, who has since retired and is a Baptist
minister, refused to talk about the incident.
Agents say that evidence destruction occurred again in 1997
during CALEA's re-inspection process. When WorldNetDaily first
contacted CALEA, Steve Mitchell, the program manager for the TBI,
was incredulous. Mitchell said he found it hard to believe that a
state police agency would willfully destroy evidence.
When informed that documentation existed, he said, "That's very
serious, possibly a criminal matter."
Mitchell later said that Wallace and Jennings told him that TBI
destroyed evidence in 1994 and 1997. Did they obtain the
requisite court orders before doing so?
"They told me they didn't obtain court orders," he said.
According to many former and current agents, drug cover-ups
perpetrated under the Wallace regime undermined many agents'
morale.
'The godfather' In 1995, Butch Morris, one of the TBI's best
undercover agents, and his partner, Milton Bowling, were
investigating reports that local law-enforcement officers and
perhaps local prosecutors in the Cookeville, Tenn., area were
providing protection to drug dealers and might even be involved
in drug trafficking themselves.
In the course of their investigation, Morris and Bowling learned
how hazardous it could be to run afoul of a Wallace political
crony. Numerous law-enforcement sources said that Cookeville land
baron Mike Gaw is a close associate of Wallace. Gaw owns 500
pieces of rental property in Putnam County (Cookeville).
"Mike Gaw is the godfather of Cookeville. He owns the whole
town, the condos, apartment buildings and slum property," a TBI
official said.
Tennessee political reporters said that Gaw gained his power by
contributing $70,000 to Sundquist's two gubernatorial campaigns
and that he became acquainted with Wallace through Putnam County
Sheriff Jerry Abston, one of Wallace's closest friends.
Morris infiltrated a Putnam County gang and served as its
intermediary in buying a pound of methamphetamine from a Los
Angeles group. He then arranged for the gang to buy up to 40
pounds of the drug, which had a street value of about $360,000.
Morris said the gang was connected "to some of the highest
rollers in the community," people who rubbed elbows with the
sheriff, the prosecutor and Mike Gaw.
Shortly before he rounded up the gang members, Brogan, Morris's
TBI supervisor, stepped in and "put his investigation on hold."
"We missed a chance to shut down one of the largest meth labs in
the country and at the same time destroy a major Tennessee drug
connection," Morris said.
Five years after Morris was pulled off the case, a gung-ho FBI
agent picked up the threads. Two defendants pleaded guilty to
federal drug trafficking charges and another was convicted after
Morris testified against him. Later, Morris tells WorldNetDaily,
he was asked by an assistant U.S. attorney what had gone wrong
back in 1995, in response to which Morris shrugged and looked at
the ceiling as if to say, "it's a very long story."
Two years ago, Morris appeared before a state legislative
investigative panel and publicly criticized TBI's drug policy.
The next day, TBI Deputy Director Reeves appeared before the same
body and trashed Morris' job performance. One of Reeve's
complaints was that Morris had misspelled an informant's name.
Morris later resigned from the agency and is now police chief in
La Vergne, Tenn.
Sundquist reappointed Wallace to another six-year term in 1998,
although Wallace received fewer votes from the "independent"
selection committee than Jeff Long. According to published
reports in the Tennessean and Associated Press, within a matter
of hours after having received the committee's recommendation,
Sundquist, without comment, ignored the committee and reappointed
Wallace.
Some members of the state legislature have become so disenchanted
with the TBI's desultory performance in catching drug dealers
that there is now a serious legislative effort to abolish the
agency's drug unit.
Not long ago, TBI dispatched 49 agents to shut down a cockfight
in eastern Tennessee.
"If the TBI doesn't have the manpower to make serious drug cases,
then how does it have 49 men to halt a rooster fight?" one top
official said. "It's high time to quit doing favors for public
officials, even if they are the vice president of the United
States, and get back to enforcing the laws fairly like we did
before Larry Wallace came along. If we can't do that, then it's
time to abolish the TBI and start all over."
TOMORROW: In Part 3, senior Tennessee law enforcement officials
says Vice President Al Gore killed a major drug trafficking
investigation in their state that allegedly implicated several of
Gore's long-time friends and supporters.
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Kadosh, Kadosh, Kadosh, YHVH, TZEVAOT
FROM THE DESK OF: <[EMAIL PROTECTED]>
*Mike Spitzer* <[EMAIL PROTECTED]>
~~~~~~~~ <[EMAIL PROTECTED]>
The Best Way To Destroy Enemies Is To Change Them To Friends
Shalom, A Salaam Aleikum, and to all, A Good Day.
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