No Regrets, Mr. Hoover Part One

By Joseph Webb

In 1950, Joseph Webb boarded a Washington D.C. bus to the Federal Bureau of Investigation and the beginning of a two-decade career under J. Edgar Hoover in Nebraska and Texas. No Regrets, Mr. Hoover Part One vibrantly details the author’s first experiences as an FBI agent.

From a professional and personal perspective, he gives the reader a unique, realistic sense of daily regional operations during the 1950s and 1960s. From training to meeting Mr. Hoover, first assignments and gaining expertise, to Theodore Roosevelt Brown and a bombing at Lake Bistineau, No Regrets, Mr. Hoover Part One is a worthy addition to any individual’s library.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Courtney Bowen
• Release date: Jan 31, 2016
• ISBN: 9781311991782

Joseph Webb

Joseph Webb (1922-2007), born in Pennsylvania, was a navy veteran of World War II and an accountant and lawyer. He served over twenty-one years with the FBI under the leadership of J. Edgar Hoover.He married his college sweetheart Florence (1923-2014) in 1945. They had three children and five grandchildren.After retiring from the FBI in 1972, he spent the next ten years training law enforcement officers for the University of Texas System. He and his wife then lived in Austin, Texas, Ruidoso, New Mexico and finally Cuero, Texas, where they are buried together.

Book preview

No Regrets,

Mr. Hoover

Part One

True Experiences of

A Veteran FBI Agent

By Joseph Webb

Smashwords edition

Copyright © 2002 by Joseph Webb

All rights reserved.

Cover design and editing: Courtney Bowen

No part of this book may be reproduced, used, or transmitted in any form or by any means, except brief quotations in critical articles or reviews, without written permission from the author’s family.

Part One Smashwords edition © 2016

Editorial Note

My grandfather Joseph Webb self-published his memoir No Regrets, Mr. Hoover about thirteen years ago with a limited printing from a small press. Since then, that first edition has gone out of print and the press seems to have failed. Both my grandfather and grandmother Florence have also passed away.

About a year before my grandmother died, though, I had an editorial project for college that required the use of another author’s manuscript. I asked her permission to use an excerpt of my grandfather’s memoir for the project and she agreed.

At the time I corrected some areas that I thought needed improvement, trying to be as objective as possible in adherence to editorial standards. Yet even then such objectivity can be considered subjective, based on the editor’s style preferences.

In the process of working on this editorial project, I read more deeply and further into my grandfather’s memoir than I ever had before. Though I have written and self-published books of my own, my work and my reading preferences have tended towards different genres than law enforcement memoirs.  Yet for most of my life I have been interested in history as well as literature, and some of the fascinating portions of my grandfather’s memoir have dealt with the historical time period of mid-20th century America.

At the start of his Preface, he acknowledges the chaos of that time period and how it affected his career and life. Some of his cases and his writing style reflect the ethos and attributes of that time period. While some of my editorial and authorial tendencies would have veered in a different direction, I merely adjusted the length of some paragraphs and ensured the preservation of my grandfather’s work

I hope that you enjoy it.

Courtney Bowen, 2015

About the Author

Joseph Webb (1922-2007), born in Pennsylvania, was a navy veteran of World War II and an accountant and lawyer. He served over twenty-one years with the FBI under the leadership of J. Edgar Hoover.

He married his college sweetheart Florence (1923-2014) in 1945. They had three children and five grandchildren.

After retiring from the FBI in 1972, he spent the next ten years training law enforcement officers for the University of Texas System. He and his wife then lived in Austin, Texas, Ruidoso, New Mexico and finally Cuero, Texas, where they are buried together.

Preface

They were turbulent years, the 1950s, 1960s, and into the 1970s. The war years of 1941-1945 were stiff fresh in our minds, when, lo, our country again became immersed in conflicts on distant shores that were to stem the tide of oppression. But there would be no real victory.

Because of these hostilities, there came sudden outbursts of resentment, defiance, and open acts of violence. Tragedy struck with a presidential assassination, while on the other side of the world leaders were openly flaunting threats of atomic attack.

Questions arose as to the stability of our government and the course it was following, and bitter accusations against the United Nations were being aired by advocates of strongly opposed forms of government. At home, the causes of civil rights and integration took center stage.

It was during this era that I became a Special Agent for the Federal Bureau of Investigation and, but for the final few days of my career, I was privileged to have served those years under the direction of our great leader, J. Edgar Hoover.

Almost immediately following his death on May 7, 1972, a voluminous number of acrimonious articles began to appear concerning him. I am not about to distinguish between those that lambasted him deliberately and erroneously and those few that described him accurately and fairly.

That judgment is better left to those who worked for him, who knew him well, who could best characterize him, and who could best answer the questions that were being asked about the man. No American citizen was more loyal than Hoover, but so many others wanted to believe, and did believe, those vicious untruths that were being widely circulated.

But I say to that, Let the man rest in peace. He served his country above himself and developed one of the finest, one of the greatest, and one of the most efficient and noteworthy law-enforcement agencies in the world.

But this book is not about Hoover. It is about one agent who became one of five thousand.

I entered the Federal Bureau of Investigation in 1951. During the ensuing years I experienced the same pressures, the same rules, the same regulations, the same concerns and inherent fears that every agent did. Our only differences lay in the criminal violations we investigated. But we stood as one force, with an esprit de corps exceeded by no other. Without fear, without trepidation, we daily went about our business, able to take pride in what we accomplished.

I have always believed that the training I received at the FBI Academy on the U.S. Marine Corps Base at Quantico was very inadequate. On the other hand, the sound advice, training, and guidance I received from the resident agent in North Platte, Nebraska, more than offset that—it provided me with the knowledge and experience that I vitally needed.

Because almost all of my career was spent in Texas while assigned to the San Antonio FBI office, most of the cases I have described occurred there, either while I was working different road trips or during my years as a resident agent in Kerrville.

It is true that none of the investigations or unusual incidents that I have described in my book ever caught the attention of the nation. Nor were there any acts of violence that might hold the reader spellbound. These have been left for the movie and television melodramas in which so much distortion from actual law enforcement has prevailed as to completely mislead the American public into having a false understanding of the profession.

The investigations and incidents are all true. They happened as I have portrayed them. The agents and other law enforcement officers named are real people, and for those whose identity I wish to conceal I have given fictitious names and identified them as such.

While there were many other cases and experiences from which to choose, I feel the ones I selected represent a cross section of my experiences.

There is no other career, no other type of work, and no other job for which I would trade the years I served under Hoover. It was truly a great profession and will forever remain as a great memory.

Acknowledgments

The spark that triggered the first thought of writing a book about my FBI experiences happened in a very unexpected and casual way. During a conversation with Mr. Duane Crowley, he briefly remarked that my experiences as an FBI agent would make interesting reading.

As I gave his suggestion considerable thought, I knew I could recall with relative ease the definitive details of many incidents and investigations that I had personally handled during my years with the Bureau. It was then that I made a firm commitment to describe these experiences in the best manner that I could. So it is to Duane that I am indebted for first planting the idea for this book in my mind.

In December 1990, I began writing my book in Rockport, Texas, and completed it in July 2000, in Ruidoso, New Mexico. Over those years, I received much encouragement from many of my friends, but there are four who truly stand out for the able and generous assistance they provided:

Mrs. Harriett Walton proofread many chapters and made valuable suggestions that I incorporated into the book. Mrs. Jonora Hahn also proofread sections of my book and made many useful recommendations that I adopted. To these two ladies I extend my deepest thanks for the time and effort that they so graciously gave.

There are no words that can adequately express my deepest gratitude and thanks to my good friend and fishing partner, Mr. A.T. Ed Crump, for the long hours and detailed work he provided by closely reviewing, revising, and recommending changes, chapter by chapter, all of which added to and greatly improved my manuscript. To him, I can only humbly say, Thanks, Ed. May the good Lord bless you.

To my wife, Flo, I can only give my dearest thanks for the many years she put up with me as I struggled along trying to put together the investigations that I wanted to describe. I know I ignored her on many occasions as I devoted my time to my book.

I should have realized that the book should be my second priority. But she understood, and continuously gave me the encouragement that was so valuable. There are no words that can truly express my heartfelt thanks.

CHAPTER 1

Washington, Law, and the FBI

It was early September, 1950, when I caught the bus on Connecticut Avenue for the long ride down to 9th and Pennsylvania. The District of Columbia weather was unusually warm and humid for that time of year.

The bus was crowded, noisy, heavy with exhaust fumes and, without air-conditioning, it was hot. In no way, I thought, would I ever want to make this trip every day—a lousy ride to work, and the same lousy bus ride home. But I had no other choice.

My gray gabardine suit was a carryover from my days as a naval officer. The suit wasn't my only fashion defect. My white shirt with its starched detachable collar and French cuffs added to my outdated appearance.

As the bus slowly worked its way into downtown Washington, what was uppermost in my mind was not the style in which I was dressed but what I was about to do. A little over two-and-a-half years before, in 1948, I had been uncertain as to which choice I should make in planning my future livelihood. I had now made a decision, and I hoped that it was the right one.

February, 1948 was a time filled with crucial decisions. My wife Flo and I were expecting our first child. Having worked for AT&T during the years I was attending George Washington University (GWU), she had resigned a few months before our daughter, Ann, was born on the 9th.

Without her salary, I needed a job to augment our income because my monthly government allotment under the GI Bill was not sufficient to meet our needs. Therefore, on the recommendation of a friend, I obtained a job in the Research Department of the Potomac Electric Power Company. That job was to predestine my future career.

Upon my graduation from GWU with a degree in accounting, my plan had been to take the Certified Public Accountant (CPA) examination. But that had become an issue because I wasn't completely comfortable with the thought of accounting as my profession. I found that I lacked the interest, the enthusiasm, and the desire that I should have had for my chosen career.

Furthermore, there was the matter of qualifying for the CPA exam. Under the District of Columbia CPA requirements at that time, those qualifying not only had to have an accounting degree, but also had to have a minimum of one year of experience with an accredited accounting firm. From inquiries with those I knew in the field, I found that any neophyte accountant, such as I would be, was at the mercy of accounting firms whose starting salaries were pitifully low.

Casting aside any hope of becoming a CPA, another possible career was with the Internal Revenue Service. During my senior year at GWU, the accounting program offered the opportunity for me to choose several electives. From these I chose two on the Federal Income Tax Code.

They both offered the interesting challenge of trying to arrive at reasonable, sensible, and logical interpretations of its provisions. Because of my interest in that special field, I felt that the IRS was a good possibility as a career.

There was a third choice. I still had educational benefits remaining under the GI Bill. The question was whether I should take advantage of them or seek a job with the IRS. After three-and-a-half years in the Navy, I felt that I was entitled to them and believed they were the means by which I could get a law degree. There could be little doubt that a background in both law and accounting would provide a solid recommendation for any future employment, especially with the Treasury Department.

Flo played an important role in helping me to make those decisions. Together, we thoroughly discussed each possibility until my final decision was to forego any kind of an accounting job, forget about becoming a CPA, and go to law school while I continued my job with the Potomac Electric Power Company. Law school would require two-and-a-half to three more years, but the rewards at the end of that time would be favorable, regardless of what I chose to do.

Following graduation, I applied for admission to George Washington University's Law School, and a month later I was notified that I had been accepted. Classes would start in June, 1948, but I would have to register as a night student while I continued with my job.

Adjusting my lifestyle to working and attending night classes was not difficult. The main concern was budgeting my time. After work, I would usually manage to eat a light dinner on the way to class, then following that was a long bus ride home to study until the early hours of the morning. Sleep was my biggest loss, but even that was not discouraging.

Note: I was one among the vast number of returning veterans in the Washington area who found it necessary to work while continuing their education. GWU prearranged full night school programs to meet this demand. At the time, it was the only university in the Washington area that satisfactorily did so.

One of my first acquaintances in law school was Russell Wherry, a man who later became a very good friend. Surprisingly enough, he was an FBI agent who was seeking a law degree in the hope that it would enhance his opportunities for advancement in the Bureau. Prior to the start of World War II, he had been a high school principal in Illinois, but when the Bureau dropped its educational requirements of law and accounting, he applied for an agent's position and was accepted.

In August, 1950, Russ and I were assigned as defense counsel in a moot court civil suit which we would argue later before a federal judge. Through Russ' access to the law library at the Department of Justice, most of our Saturdays and Sunday afternoons were spent there doing legal research and preparing our case.

During one of our Saturday lunch breaks, Russ pushed his sandwich aside and, in all seriousness, remarked, Joe, I've come to know you quite well over the past couple of years, and I know you plan to become a tax attorney with the IRS, then later become a tax attorney for some company, or maybe even start your own practice. But answer me this, Have you ever thought about becoming an FBI agent?

Russ, I don't know anything about the FBI except that J. Edgar Hoover is its director, and the few things that you've mentioned. I have no idea what kind of work you guys do, but I do know something about taxes, and because of my interest in that field when I finish law school and, hopefully, pass the District of Columbia bar examination, I want to go to work with the IRS. I'm pretty well set on doing that.

Well now just listen to me for a minute, he replied. "From what I know about you, I think that you're the kind of guy that the FBI is looking for and that you'd make one damn good FBI agent. You have the type of background that the Bureau likes to see in its agents and, most important of all, you have the right kind of temperament for that kind of work. You're a Pennsylvania farm boy, who, after a couple of years of college, enlisted in the Navy after Pearl Harbor and served over three years. Another thing that I think would be attractive to the FBI and would stand in your favor is the fact that you're an avid outdoorsman who loves to hunt, fish, and camp out.

"I still remember your experiences on that five-day camping trip you made alone down to the Shenandoah River to fly fish, and how you rode a freight train out of Winchester, Virginia to reach the spot where you wanted to camp. Then how you had to flag down another freight train to ride back to Winchester to catch your train to Washington. That's quite a lifestyle, especially for anyone who'd like to become an agent.

Experiences like these mean an awful lot to the Bureau when it evaluates applicants for an agent's job. It certainly speaks well for you, and if you were to apply for an FBI job, you must tell the agent who interviews you just what I've mentioned. So tell me, are you willing to change your chances of continuing to do things like that just so you can sit on your ass for the rest of your life in some office pouring over some damn tax problems? Just think about it.

Well, it certainly sounds like you're trying to change my mind. Go ahead and tell me some of the things that FBI agents do. I'm interested in knowing. As a matter of fact, I'd like to know more about the FBI even if I stay with my present plans.

"Well, first of all, if you were to become an agent, you wouldn't be sitting in an office all day. The Bureau wants you out on the street working your cases and, more than likely, they would all be criminal investigations. If you think tax problems are challenging, let me tell you that working criminal cases is every bit as much, if not more so.

You've got to be smarter than the criminals, and some of them are smart and shrewd sons-of-bitches. They're clever, they're intelligent, they're persuasive with their alibis and lies. It's not a job for the faint of heart. What makes it so interesting, so challenging, is that every case is different. The people and the criminals are different. You meet all kinds, the good, the bad, the smart ones, the dumb-asses, but rest assured, there are never any dull moments.

Admittedly, I learned many things about