My 7-Year-Old

I’ve spent the last couple of days mulling over names of possible nominees to replace outgoing FBI Director Louis Freeh.

It’s going to be hard to find someone to duplicate his fabled history of managerial competence, honesty and success.

I nominate…my seven-year-old.

I’m not too impressed with my son’s choice of friends. But he has never included in his social circle a man like Special Agent Hanssen, who’s charged with selling out his country and ending the lives of more than one friendly intelligence agent.

Granted, my son Joshua is not long on organization. Walking into his room is like wading through the Okefenokee Swamp.

But neither has he "misplaced" thousands of pages of critical witness depositions crucial to the fair prosecution of two criminal murder cases. Before wandering off for a snow cone, he would probably have assigned the case to someone who would have provided the McVeigh and Nicholls’ defense teams with the testimony of one witness in particular, who challenged the government's official version of the Oklahoma City tragedy..

Yes, Judge Maitsch and the juries would have been forced to consider the possibility of a second bomber, even if that individual was tied to a Middle East plot to get even with us for the Desert Storm operation.

Chances are my son could have drawn more reliable likenesses of John Does #2 and #3 than those released by the FBI artist.

And while Joshua has been known to destroy his surplus toys, he would never destroy evidence. By the way, Mr. Freeh, whatever did become of the surveillance tapes taken by those 6 to 10 video cameras in the vicinity of the Murrah building at the time the bombs went off? Is it true your secretary is named Rosemary Woods?

How could all those unedited tapes remain under lock and key, long after all known accomplices to the destruction of the Murrah Building have been convicted of the crime? Years of Freedom of Information Act requests have gone unheeded…and as they say, one picture is worth a thousand words. Are you afraid that videotape, aerial photographs and seismographs don’t lie?

My seven-year-old doesn’t lie too much, anymore. So maybe he wouldn’t make such a successful FBI director, after all.

But who knows? Under your masterful tutelage, Mr. Freeh, Joshua just might surprise both of us.

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