Post by KC on Apr 29, 2006 19:39:50 GMT -5
It was the big day. Twenty-three sixth-graders from Northeast Washington were getting to go inside one of the most top-secret rooms in the world: the FBI command center. A lair deep within FBI headquarters downtown. The inner sanctum where all spy brains converge to make split-second decisions to protect American citizens and fight evil during national crises.
Not only that, but the students were also about to meet The Big Guys: the director of the FBI and the attorney general of the United States. And they were going to see whether they could pass muster on the agent fitness test.
This was like visiting the Oz of the intelligence world.
What would it look like? Dimly lit with giant screens and two-story-high computers? Listening devices, radars, hidden mirrors? Six-foot-thick concrete walls with beams of cold steel? Would it be like the Counterterrorism Unit on Fox's "24"?
Suspense built yesterday as the sixth-graders of Charles Young Elementary Hilltop Academy gathered in the FBI cafeteria to begin the tour as part of the Junior Special Agent program, an outreach mentoring program for kids in Washington. When they are 16, they may be able to get top-secret clearance and work there.
Serious-looking men in dark suits with earpieces were everywhere. The students, wearing blue "FBI Junior Special Agent" T-shirts, nibbled on burgers, pizza and french fries with a guy they had been told to interview.
"What is your full name?" asked Maurice Davis, 12, chosen to be class interviewer.
"My name is Alberto Gonzales," said the attorney general of the United States. His sticky name tag kept falling off.
"What would you like us to know about you?" Maurice asked.
"I have two boys about your age," Gonzales replied. "So I know a little about what you like and what you don't like."
The attorney general looked at Maurice. "What else, Maurice?"
"That's it," Maurice said.
"That's it? No more questions?" Gonzales asked. He smiled. "That's a good interview."
Not so fast.
A 12-year-old at the other end of the table had a question. "What do you think about the war?" he asked.
Gonzales put down his hamburger. "One thing you have to remember is that sometimes people have to die so we can all live in freedom. That's always been the case."
"I think they should end the war," Maurice said.
"You know what, I think everybody wants the war to end as soon as possible," Gonzales said. "I really do. Nobody wants young American soldiers to die, including the president."
"If the president made us go to war with Iraq, why doesn't he go over there and fight the war?" Christian May asked.
"Why doesn't he go do that?" Gonzales responded. "He's sort of the commander in chief. He's kind of leading the troops. That's what happens in wars. You have people making the plans and making the decisions . . . and then you have people who make sure those directives are carried out."
At that moment, a Justice Department public relations officer suggested that the onlooking reporter leave the two to "chat freely."
* * *
They headed down. The moment was almost here for the 13 girls and 10 boys, mostly from Carver Terrace and Langston, two Northeast housing projects. The command center was where high-ranking officials with the FBI, CIA and the ATF gathered the morning of Sept. 11, 2001.
What would be inside?
"Guns," said one girl, Bobbie Jackson. "Big ones and little ones."
"A lot of computers," another guessed.
"Top-secret files," one boy said.
"Cases they couldn't solve," offered Sabrina Winstin.
"It's gonna be neat. And big."
The elevator doors opened, and they faced two glass doors. Glass ? Wasn't this supposed to be secret?
The doors were labeled "The George H.W. Bush Strategic Information Operations Center."
The SIOC is not one large room, it turns out, but a warren. The class was led first into the executive briefing room for an overview. It looks like a classroom. On the wall are a giant screen and clocks that tell the time in Turkey, Riyadh, Kuwait, Baghdad and Morocco.
"Do you think you could possibly work here?" asked Michael A. Mason, the bureau's No. 3. "Absolutely, you could work here," Mason said, answering himself and launching into a motivational speech. "When we rip off our shirt, we do not have Superman capes underneath it. We are regular folks just like you.
"I grew up on the south side of Chicago," Mason continued. "Single father. He was a truck driver. I grew up in an area that had gangs. But all of you can do anything you see here today. You have already made positive choices by being part of this program. . . . I have friends who went in a different direction and got involved in drugs and alcohol. But you all have made a decision that you aren't going to get involved in that."
Gonzales came to the front next. He told them about growing up poor in Texas in a family of eight with no hot running water and no telephone. When he was their age, he said, he sold Cokes and Sprites at Rice University football games and dreamed of going to college there.
"Dream big dreams," he told the children. "They can come true for you. They did for me."
The sixth-graders were led down a hallway, past photos of bombed-out buildings, a crashed airplane, a bombmaker with fingers missing on his right hand -- legacies of terrorism. An FBI agent told them how many people died in each incident.
Solving such cases is "time-consuming work," said unit chief Charles Provost. "This is why we need people like you to join us."
The kids stared at a wanted poster of Osama bin Laden.
Then they arrived: the 24/7, state-of-the art FBI command center.
The boys and girls stared through the glass: It looked kind of like an insurance office. More computers, three giant screens.
All three were tuned to Fox.
"There are no guns," one girl said.
On to the FBI gym for the timed sit-ups and push-ups like the ones they give new agents at the FBI Academy at Quantico. For many of the kids, not a problem.
"Terrific athletes," said FBI Director Robert S. Mueller III.
"I'm so impressed," said John Pistole, No. 2.
"Great competitive spirit," said Joseph Persichini, acting FBI assistant director in charge of the Washington field office.
Gonzales cheered.
At day's end, the sixth-graders said that, yes, one day they might want to be G-men, they might want to work there. Thirteen-year-old Sabrina called the tour "very unique."
What was best? The FBI command center? The most secret room in the world? The state-of-the-art computers?
"I really liked the food," Cory Knight said.
Not only that, but the students were also about to meet The Big Guys: the director of the FBI and the attorney general of the United States. And they were going to see whether they could pass muster on the agent fitness test.
This was like visiting the Oz of the intelligence world.
What would it look like? Dimly lit with giant screens and two-story-high computers? Listening devices, radars, hidden mirrors? Six-foot-thick concrete walls with beams of cold steel? Would it be like the Counterterrorism Unit on Fox's "24"?
Suspense built yesterday as the sixth-graders of Charles Young Elementary Hilltop Academy gathered in the FBI cafeteria to begin the tour as part of the Junior Special Agent program, an outreach mentoring program for kids in Washington. When they are 16, they may be able to get top-secret clearance and work there.
Serious-looking men in dark suits with earpieces were everywhere. The students, wearing blue "FBI Junior Special Agent" T-shirts, nibbled on burgers, pizza and french fries with a guy they had been told to interview.
"What is your full name?" asked Maurice Davis, 12, chosen to be class interviewer.
"My name is Alberto Gonzales," said the attorney general of the United States. His sticky name tag kept falling off.
"What would you like us to know about you?" Maurice asked.
"I have two boys about your age," Gonzales replied. "So I know a little about what you like and what you don't like."
The attorney general looked at Maurice. "What else, Maurice?"
"That's it," Maurice said.
"That's it? No more questions?" Gonzales asked. He smiled. "That's a good interview."
Not so fast.
A 12-year-old at the other end of the table had a question. "What do you think about the war?" he asked.
Gonzales put down his hamburger. "One thing you have to remember is that sometimes people have to die so we can all live in freedom. That's always been the case."
"I think they should end the war," Maurice said.
"You know what, I think everybody wants the war to end as soon as possible," Gonzales said. "I really do. Nobody wants young American soldiers to die, including the president."
"If the president made us go to war with Iraq, why doesn't he go over there and fight the war?" Christian May asked.
"Why doesn't he go do that?" Gonzales responded. "He's sort of the commander in chief. He's kind of leading the troops. That's what happens in wars. You have people making the plans and making the decisions . . . and then you have people who make sure those directives are carried out."
At that moment, a Justice Department public relations officer suggested that the onlooking reporter leave the two to "chat freely."
* * *
They headed down. The moment was almost here for the 13 girls and 10 boys, mostly from Carver Terrace and Langston, two Northeast housing projects. The command center was where high-ranking officials with the FBI, CIA and the ATF gathered the morning of Sept. 11, 2001.
What would be inside?
"Guns," said one girl, Bobbie Jackson. "Big ones and little ones."
"A lot of computers," another guessed.
"Top-secret files," one boy said.
"Cases they couldn't solve," offered Sabrina Winstin.
"It's gonna be neat. And big."
The elevator doors opened, and they faced two glass doors. Glass ? Wasn't this supposed to be secret?
The doors were labeled "The George H.W. Bush Strategic Information Operations Center."
The SIOC is not one large room, it turns out, but a warren. The class was led first into the executive briefing room for an overview. It looks like a classroom. On the wall are a giant screen and clocks that tell the time in Turkey, Riyadh, Kuwait, Baghdad and Morocco.
"Do you think you could possibly work here?" asked Michael A. Mason, the bureau's No. 3. "Absolutely, you could work here," Mason said, answering himself and launching into a motivational speech. "When we rip off our shirt, we do not have Superman capes underneath it. We are regular folks just like you.
"I grew up on the south side of Chicago," Mason continued. "Single father. He was a truck driver. I grew up in an area that had gangs. But all of you can do anything you see here today. You have already made positive choices by being part of this program. . . . I have friends who went in a different direction and got involved in drugs and alcohol. But you all have made a decision that you aren't going to get involved in that."
Gonzales came to the front next. He told them about growing up poor in Texas in a family of eight with no hot running water and no telephone. When he was their age, he said, he sold Cokes and Sprites at Rice University football games and dreamed of going to college there.
"Dream big dreams," he told the children. "They can come true for you. They did for me."
The sixth-graders were led down a hallway, past photos of bombed-out buildings, a crashed airplane, a bombmaker with fingers missing on his right hand -- legacies of terrorism. An FBI agent told them how many people died in each incident.
Solving such cases is "time-consuming work," said unit chief Charles Provost. "This is why we need people like you to join us."
The kids stared at a wanted poster of Osama bin Laden.
Then they arrived: the 24/7, state-of-the art FBI command center.
The boys and girls stared through the glass: It looked kind of like an insurance office. More computers, three giant screens.
All three were tuned to Fox.
"There are no guns," one girl said.
On to the FBI gym for the timed sit-ups and push-ups like the ones they give new agents at the FBI Academy at Quantico. For many of the kids, not a problem.
"Terrific athletes," said FBI Director Robert S. Mueller III.
"I'm so impressed," said John Pistole, No. 2.
"Great competitive spirit," said Joseph Persichini, acting FBI assistant director in charge of the Washington field office.
Gonzales cheered.
At day's end, the sixth-graders said that, yes, one day they might want to be G-men, they might want to work there. Thirteen-year-old Sabrina called the tour "very unique."
What was best? The FBI command center? The most secret room in the world? The state-of-the-art computers?
"I really liked the food," Cory Knight said.