by John M. Curtis
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Copyright August 2, 2008
All Rights Reserved.

aking a lethal overdose of Tylenol with codeine, 62-year-old government bacteriologist Bruce E. Ivins took ultimate flight from imminent prosecution for the 2001 anthrax case causing 17 illnesses and five deaths. Ivins, a specialist in Anthrax research, who worked 18 years at the U.S. Army's biodefense labs in Ft. Detrick, Md, was under intense investigation by the FBI for the 2001 unsolved anthrax attacks. Following only weeks after Sept. 11, many people were diverted into fingering Osama bin Laden. Ivins worked for years on developing a nonresistant vaccine capable of treating multiple strains of anthrax. Only days after Sept. 11, well before the anthrax assassin struck Washington, D.C. postal workers, White House officials were vaccinated with Cipro, a powerful antibiotic. No one knows why White House officials were given preventive Cipro (ciprofloxacin) treatments.

      While the Justice Department was not closing the case just yet, Ivins' suicide was powerful proof of culpability. “We are saddened by his death, and disappointed that we will not have the opportunity to defend his good name and reputation in a court of law,” said Ivin's attorney Paul F. Kemp, blaming the government's “relentless pressure of accusation and innuendo.” Ivin's was treated and released July 24 from Sheppard Pratt Health System's psychiatric hospital, apparently threatening suicide and bodily harm to a former love-interest. “We assert his innocence in these killings, and would have established that at trial,” said Kemp, unable to account for his client's suicide. Blaming his suicide on the government ignores Ivin's disturbed mental state, documented only a week earlier by private psychiatrists. Guilty suspects sometimes commit suicide to avoid prosecution and eventual consequences.

      FBI and Justice Department officials were reticent to file charges against Ivins after rushing-to-judgment against former government scientist Steven J. Hatfill, paying out reportedly 5.82 million to settle the case. FBI and Justice Department investigators jumped the gun fingering Hatfill, when he was not directly involved with anthrax. When the Hatfill case headed south in 2006, FBI Director Robert Mueller appointed new investigators Vincent B. Lisi and Edward W. Montooth to revisit the case. Examining Army reports taken from the U.S. Army Medical Research Institute of Infectious Diseases, they stumbled on Ivins' statements. Ivins apparently failed to report anthrax contamination in his lab from Dec. 2001 to April 2002. Without scrutinizing Ivins' statements, Army investigators closed the book, apparently embarrassed about finding the real source of the anthrax threat.

      Army investigators couldn't have just missed Ivins' feeble excuses why anthrax turned up on his desk. They also knew that the anthrax letters originated from a mailbox in Princeton, N.J., 198 miles from Ivins' home in Frederick, Md. “In retrospect, although my concern for biosafety was honest and my destire to restrain from “Crying Wolf!” . . . was insincere, I should have notified my supervisor ahead of time of my possible worries about a possible breach in biocontainment,” Ivins told Army investigators in a report released under the Freedom of Information Act. Information contained under the FOIA is usually obtained under duress, typically from stonewalling government agencies. If the Army had nothing to hide, why would they force a respected newspaper to demand documents under the FOIA? While it's commendable the FBI now has a dead suspect, the seven-year delay is inexcusable.

      Army investigators knew within hours that the anthrax spores received by Sen. Majority Leader Tom Daschle's office, NBC's New York office of Tom Brokaw, the National Enquirer Headquarters in Boca Raton, Fl., U.S. post offices in Washington, D.C., etc., came from the Army's lab in Ft. Detrick, Md. No attempt was made to alert the media that the spores were not from overseas, especially from the mastermind of Sept. 11. No, the Army kept hush about the incriminating reports from one of its own “scientists.” “I thought that quietly and diligently cleaning the dirty desk areas would both eliminate any possible [anthrax] contamination as well a prevent unintended anxiety from the institute,” said Ivins to Army investigators. Instead of putting Ivins under a heat lamp, the Army gave him a pass. They chose not to make public that they found anthrax right under their nose.

      FBI Director Robert Mueller acted upbeat telling CNN that, “in some sense, there have been breakthroughs.” “I tell you we made great progress in the investigation,” convinced that they had finally gotten the right guy. Nearly seven years later and after paying $5.82 million for fingering the wrong guy, Mueller expressed relief. After reviewing Ivins' incriminating statements in the recently released Army report, it's mind boggling that Mueller ignored the real question: Why did the Army miss Ivins? His older brother, Thomas Ivins, spilled the beans recently to the FBI. “I was questioned by the feds, and I sung like a canary,” fingering his younger brother Bruce in the unsolved anthrax case. “He had it in his mind that he was omnipotent.” Someone needs to ask not about Ivins but why the Army quickly closed its case against one of its own scientists back in 2002?

About the Author

John M. Curtis writes politically neutral commentary analyzing spin in national and global news. He's editor of OnlineColumnist.com and author of Dodging The Bullet and Operation Charisma.

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