Ronald Kessler - In the President's Secret Service

At Secret Service headquarters, the computer system that plugs into the intelligence community’s classified information on threats is limited in scope and technologically primitive. Agents say they typically learn more about overseas threats by watching CNN, Fox News, or MSNBC than from briefings by their own intelligence agents.

Until recently, the Secret Service even scrimped on cell phones, supplying agents with huge, obsolete cell phones and refurbished Motorola pagers that would not work near the White House. They have since been replaced by BlackBerrys. The agency’s radio communications that connect to agents’ earpieces often will not transmit through brick walls.

Citing innovations at the Rowley training center, an agent proudly mentions during a tour of the facility that agents are trained with a newly acquired “shoot/don’t shoot” computer program that scores them on whether they have made the right decision on when to fire. Yet when writing The Bureau: The Secret History of the FBI , I operated such a program at the FBI’s training center at Quantico, Virginia, back in 2002.

While the Secret Service scrimps on equipment needed to save lives, it wastes agents’ time by requiring them to engage in needless record-keeping using software out of the 1970s. Every two weeks, agents must submit a printout with the hours they worked each day. An attendance clerk then retypes the data into the payroll system. At the end of the month, agents are required to compute manually the number of regular hours and overtime hours they worked for each specific protectee and the number of hours they traveled or worked out of town. They then enter the data into an antiquated computer program.

While the Secret Service has an ombudsman to whom problems can be submitted, agents call the position a joke. “The ombudsman is buddies with the person you’re complaining about, or he went into training with them, and it’s a good ol’ boy system,” an agent on one of the major details says.

Because of the serial deficiencies and corner cutting, “I think we’re on borrowed time, personally,” a current agent says. “I really think it’s just a matter of time before an assassination occurs.”

WHEN IT CAME to protecting Jenna and Barbara Bush, the Secret Service had its hands full. Back when Bush was reelected governor of Texas, “The next morning after the inauguration, they had a breakfast for friends and family,” Laura’s friend Anne Stewart says. “George was sitting on a chair at a podium. He looked like he was about to fall off of it. I mean, his eyes kept closing.”

Bush gave a short speech.

“Thank God for the person who invented caffeine, because I really needed the coffee this morning,” he said. “I also have something to say about the person who coined the word ‘curfew’ Unfortunately, my girls do not know the meaning of the word ‘curfew’”

Later, Anne Stewart asked Laura what he meant.

“The girls did not show up after the inauguration party,” Laura said. “At two-thirty in the morning, I heard him frantically punching buttons calling all of their friends, finding out where they were. Finally, he tracked down one of the girls. He said, ‘I don’t care if it’s my inauguration. Get your booties home.’”

“They were partying and having a great time,” Stewart said. “They thought, ‘Dad won’t mind. It’s his inauguration as governor.’”

Recognizing how a presidential race would infringe on their family life, Laura later said she was “somewhat reluctant initially” about a presidential campaign. “I knew it would be hard to see someone I loved criticized,” she said. Laura knew that a run for the presidency and a possible win would mean giving up even more of their family’s privacy than when Bush was governor of Texas. Simply taking a walk or dropping in at a drugstore would require heavy security precautions.

The twins, especially Jenna, were opposed. They wanted to be normal teenagers. The thought of being different, singled out because they were in the White House, made them cringe.

When Bush became president, Barbara—code-named Turquoise—went off to Yale, and Jenna—code-named Twinkle—went to the University of Texas, and they both made good grades. But on May 29, 2001, Austin police officer Clay Crabb was dispatched to Chuy’s restaurant after manager Mia Lawrence called 911 at ten thirty-four P.M. Crabb later wrote in his report that when he arrived at the restaurant on Barton Springs Road, Lawrence told him the subject of her call was a blonde wearing a pink halter top who was seated in the bar area with her back to the wall.

Crabb and another officer “were about to go in and talk to the girl Mia pointed out when I was tapped on the shoulder by a subject identifying himself as a member of the Secret Service,” Crabb wrote. By then, the officers knew that the alleged offender was Jenna Bush, and they explained to the agents that they were checking into an allegation that she had used fake identification to buy a drink.

The Secret Service agents did not interfere. Instead, Michael Bolton, a Secret Service supervisor, told Jenna and Barbara, who was also at the bar, what was happening. He then told the police the girls were going to leave. Two days later, the Austin police issued tickets to both girls for Class C misdemeanor violations. Jenna was cited for misrepresentation of age by a minor, Barbara for possession of alcohol by a minor.

It had all started when a waitress became suspicious of the license Jenna handed her. The waitress showed it to Lawrence, who noted that the license had someone else’s name on it. In addition, the photo looked “slightly off.” Lawrence told Jenna she would not be served.

“Whatever,” Jenna said, according to the police report.

Apparently thinking she was older than Jenna, the waitress brought Barbara and two friends three margaritas and three tequila shots. The bartender kept watch to make sure Jenna drank none of them. After other patrons pointed out that Barbara was the same age as Jenna, Lawrence called 911. By the time officers arrived, the tequila shots were gone. Each of the margaritas had been at least “partially consumed,” the police report said. When officer Clifford Rogers asked Jenna for the identification she had used, she handed it over and started to cry.

“She then stated that I do not have any idea what it is like to be a college student and not be able to do anything that other students get to do,” Rogers wrote.

Another officer asked restaurant manager Lawrence what she wanted the police to do with the girls.

“I want them to get into big trouble,” Lawrence said.

Police Chief Stan Knee told the Austin American-Statesman that the unusual thing about the incident was not the way the police handled it, but that they were involved at all.

“Most business establishments usually handle those things themselves,” the chief said. “Once we were notified of the crime, or the potential crime, we felt obligated to make as thorough a report as possible.”

For Barbara, it was a first offense. But two weeks before, on May 16, Jenna had pleaded no contest to possession of alcohol at Cheers Shot Bar on Sixth Street in Austin. In response to the new charge, Jenna on July 6 pleaded no contest to misrepresenting her age. Her driver’s license was suspended for a month. She paid a six-hundred-dollar fine for the infraction at Chuy’s and for the previous charge. She also got three months of deferred adjudication, a form of probation, plus thirty-six hours of community service. She was required to attend an alcohol awareness class. Barbara also pleaded no contest and was sentenced to deferred adjudication. She had to attend alcohol awareness class as well.