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My Brush with Greatness

When I was in the Navy and stationed in the little town of Washington DC, many things were
going on. It was before Watergate but I despised Nixon. Turned out to be for all the right reasons.

I was working in a vault that was set up to make sure the soviets could not monitor our communications.
After all I was a Communications Technician. The security clearance was extreme but the only part of
this story that involved that is the social life.

I was invited to a party of like cleared people. Even in DC we were paranoid and careful.
At the party I met this beautiful, tall, long legged blonde who worked for the FBI.

A few months in to our relationship, she told me she was quitting and was going to return to her home
in South Carolina. She got away with my High School class ring in the process but that is an aside to the story.

Yvonne, her middle name, asked if I would like a tour of the FBI. This was the old building, not the
current new one. Of course I said yes expecting to go on one of the public tours. She said she would
set it up which she did.

The tour was on a Saturday and I drove my blonde to the empty building with plenty of parking and
we went inside. She did some magic with the internal communications and we waited for a short time.
A man showed up and greeted Yvonne and I was introduced. This was 1970 so I still can not verify what
name I was given, but I was already impressed by the fact that it was Saturday and this was not a public tour.

The tour began and there was no area that I did not see. My most memorable impression was the gun room.
The room was lined with walls and drawers of guns. I was told that there was a gun there of every crime that
the FBI had investigated. Some were duplicates but many were recovered. I was told I could look at any one
of them but not a particular one that was the gun that killed Kennedy. At this point I was in a state of shock
at what I was experiencing and I remember holding a Tommy gun that was from the gangster wars.

We finished the tour and said our thanks and left the building. I was amazed and thanked Yvonne for such
a great tour. I asked her about the man who gave us the tour. It turned out that it was her boss. Then she
told me he was an Assistant Director of the FBI. Nice tour guide too.

Time marches on. Yvonne left me in DC and went home to South Carolina. We talked by phone when
she would go to the local store, yes we are talking about those times. She called one last time when she
found lumps in her breasts. She said she would call when she knew but she never called again.

The point of this story is the Assistant Director. I know his picture from the time.
He later became the Associate Director of the FBI. You can read his story on Wikipedia.
His name was Mark Felt and he eventually admitted to being Deep Throat.


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