Walking tour stop #7: Counting the lb’s

I know—this title is very lame and likely to attract perhaps the smallest number of visitors yet, but it’s all I could come up with, considering the scribble we’ll be addressing today. But if you do get past the title and read to the bottom…first, thank you! and second, you’re going to be glad you did. You know why? 

Because we’re getting very close to a major revelation.

The scribble in question looks like this, and Ron has four of them on his missing person documents, always in the righthand column, about midway down.

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The first letter is a lowercase l. Usually it looks like a straight line, but sometimes they gave it its characteristic loop, which enables me to state with confidence that it’s an l. The second letter could be a lowercase b, or it could also be an f. (I actually lean toward the latter.) It’s always underlined–always. But bear this in mind: this is not a common mark on FBI documents. In fact, I was just about to give up on finding a match until I delved further into James W. McCord, Jr.’s Watergate records. Then: pay dirt.

Here’s just a sampling I found on McCord et al.

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Click on image for a closer view. Note that the ‘b’ or ‘f’ has been cut off, but it’s written by the same person, as indicated by the underline.
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Our friend Hank Greenspun has one as well.

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Also Daniel Ellsberg, patriot and hero who risked going to prison to publish the Pentagon Papers, finally exposing the truth about the Vietnam War, has one.

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Click on image for a closer view. This is the same document as the one above it, however the lb/lf appears to have been erased.

All of these individuals are bound together by none other than James W. McCord, Jr., and they all involve burglaries: one of the DNC Headquarters at the Watergate Hotel, one “alleged planned” burglary of Hank Greenspun’s office safe at the Las Vegas Sun, and one at the office of Daniel Ellsberg’s psychiatrist, Lewis J. Fielding. All of these burglaries or planned burglaries were coordinated with “the White House plumbers,” and James W. McCord, Jr., played a lead role.

A few things I’ve noticed about the maker of the lb’s/lf’s:

  • They are privy to sensitive intelligence information.
  • The mark doesn’t match the initials of the usual FBI assistant directors. It could be that he or she is attempting to conceal their identity.
  • Judging by the date stamps on Ron’s documents, it appears that the person wrote his/her mark on them in June 1973. Interestingly, that same person was making that same mark on the Watergate docs during that same time period.

And this brings me to our next announcement:

You guys, I think Ronald Tammen was palling around with James W. McCord, Jr., and may actually have been working for him.

Just a quick word that we have one last announcement to make on our tour, which I’ll be making later this week. Then, shortly thereafter, I’ll be throwing a Walking Tour After-party, where we’ll be discussing some of the less prominent, but still important scribbles on Ron’s docs. At that point, the tour will be officially over, and we’ll be going back to more in-depth reporting. Because…I mean…I don’t know about you, but I think we have a lot to discuss.

Coming next: A Korean War POW who worked at Jack Ruby’s Carousel Club in 1963 and who bought a Sears & Roebuck rifle shortly before Kennedy’s assassination but who then disappeared has something on his FBI docs that looks very much like one of Ron’s docs

Thanks to maryferrell.org and TheBlackVault.com for making these documents available.

Walking tour stop #6: 2-D or not 2-D; that’s the conundrum

As we’ve been going through the scribbles on Ron’s docs, it’s becoming clear that having one or two of them strategically placed on a document is one thing. But to have a whole menagerie of them, including the ST-102 and MCT stamps, PLUS a “see index” in the left margin of the first page? Hoo boy. Pretty soon, I imagine that the FBI is going to start taking Ron Tammen seriously.

Well, just wait, because I’ve found another scribble that, to the best that I can determine, would be akin to sticking the biggest reddest sticky note on top of his file folder as a warning to passersby.

Before I proceed, I want to remind my readers—be you a government official, a representative of law enforcement, a member of the military, or a fellow member of the general public—that what I am doing is 100% permissible by law. I am reviewing declassified documents, some having been declassified only recently, and comparing them with each other to discover similarities and patterns. Once these records were declassified and released to the public, I was immediately given carte blanche to report on them. It is my inalienable right.

OK! So here we go:

On page 1 of Ron’s missing person documents, in the bottom lefthand corner, is a notation that, again, isn’t very common among FBI records. The format is consistent: there’s a number, which, in my experience, is either 1 or 2, there’s usually a dash, and there’s the letter D, which is either written in lowercase or uppercase.

For a while, I thought that the D stood for detention and the numbers were assigned according to their priority level on the FBI’s Security Index. So in my initial hypothesis, 1-D would be the individuals of highest priority, who would be detained first in the event of a national emergency. 2-D would be second highest priority, so they’d be detained next, and 3-D, which, to date, I’ve never seen, would be everyone else whose name resides in the Security Index.

But then… I found the below document, which happens to concern James W. McCord, our friend from Watergate fame. To remind readers, James McCord did things long before Watergate, which took place on June 17, 1972. He was in the CIA from 1951 to 1970, which is more than enough time to become entangled in something pernicious, especially during those wild years. Throughout his time with the CIA, McCord was employed by the Office of Security, and, from what I can tell, had been part of the Security Research Staff until 1962, which was headed up for many years by Paul Gaynor. Morse Allen, whom I’ve written about in other posts, was a colleague as well. Security Research was the epicenter of Project Artichoke, the CIA’s interrogation research program. As you know, I strongly believe that Ron Tammen’s psychology professor, St. Clair Switzer, was recruited as a consultant for Project Artichoke for his expertise in hypnosis and drugs as well as his strong ties to the United States Air Force. Louis Jolyon West ostensibly started out with Project Artichoke too, but then he moved over to MKULTRA. (As has been pointed out by H.P. Albarelli, Jr., and Jeffrey Kaye in 2010, Project Artichoke didn’t just evolve into MKULTRA, as many people have mistakenly claimed—including yours truly when I was just getting started in my research. The two programs were operated in tandem for nearly 17 years after MKULTRA’s start in 1953!) I guess what I’m trying to say is that whenever I write the name James W. McCord, don’t just think Watergate. Think Project Artichoke too. Maybe even think Project Artichoke before you think Watergate, since Artichoke came first.

OK, so let’s look at the document from July 7, 1972. When you examine the bottom lefthand corner, in the distribution list, you see that they made 2 copies for the Bureau—which means FBI Headquarters—and that number is circled. However, in the white space northeast of the circled 2, someone has written: “1 – Dept.; 2 of T file copy.”

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I take that to mean that of the 2 Bureau copies, one will go to the Department, and the second of two (T stands for two) will be the file copy at FBI Headquarters.

And that’s when it hit me: d or D stands for Department, as in the Department of Justice, the umbrella organization under which the FBI falls. So whenever we see a 1-d or 1-D, one copy went to the DOJ. When we see 2-d or 2-D, two copies were sent to the DOJ, which, it seems to follow, is more…um…elevated in importance. Doubly so, in fact.

You guys…Ron has 2-D written on the first page of his missing person documents.

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I will now post some of the people who had 1-d’s or 1-D’s on their docs, many of whom you know well. (I’ve provided links to a couple who may be new.)

LEE HARVEY OSWALD

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KLAUS BARBIE

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CUBAN REVOLUTIONARY BOARD

(I think this is the same thing as the Cuban Revolutionary Council)

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LOREN EUGENE HALL

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RICHARD COLVIN COX

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CARLOS SAMPAYAN BULOSAN

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ROCK HUDSON

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The list of people with 2-d’s (2-D’s) is shorter. To date, I’ve only found four of them, including Ron. And the other three people who do have them?

Hoo boy.

They are:

JAMES W. MCCORD

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JACK RUBY

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THOMAS RODMAN PEASNER, JR.

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Trust me, we will be discussing these folks more in the future, particularly James McCord and Thomas Peasner. But for now, here’s today’s announcement:

Of the four individuals I’ve found who have 2-Ds, two of them (Jack Ruby and Thomas Peasner) have been investigated for having possible ties to the assassination of JFK. One (James McCord) was reported by two separate sources to have been in Dallas on November 22, 1963. That just leaves us with Ron.

Coming next: Counting the lbs.

Thanks to the Mary Ferrell Foundation, The Black Vault, and the Assassination Archives and Research Center for making these records accessible.

Ronald Tammen’s FBI documents have been put in the same category as 1) an alleged plot to assassinate Spiro Agnew and 2) an alleged plot to assassinate Sirhan Sirhan

By now, I think we’ve all come to terms with the notion that Ronald Tammen in his adult years wasn’t the same person everyone had known when he was in his teens. Mind you, we still don’t know Ron’s whole story. We don’t know what predicaments he experienced after he disappeared, nor do we know the sorts of things he did when presented with said predicaments. But judging by his surviving FBI documents, we can see that Ron’s life after his disappearance was wildly different from his days as the solemn and studious business major from Maple Heights, Ohio. It was almost as if the day he went missing, he’d entered a bizarro world where up became down, where dull became exciting, where cash-strapped became cash-solvent, where good became, well…I’m not quite ready to go there.

At least for now, let’s cut him some slack and leave it at this: after Ron Tammen disappeared, his life had grown complicated.

Someday, in the not-too-distant future, I plan to share with you just how complicated his life had become. We already know that the FBI had added him to their infamous Security Index. That alone would complicate matters for any person. 

When I started researching Ron’s disappearance, I can remember reading about some of his attributes, and someone close to him would sometimes be quoted saying that he’d been on the Dean’s List or that he’d been asked to join Phi Beta Kappa or something like that as examples of how smart he was. To date, I’ve found no evidence of either of those things being true. For Ron to be listed on the FBI’s Security Index, which is something for which we do have evidence, is the bizarro opposite of Phi Beta Kappa times 100.

Hopefully soon, I’ll be providing a grand tour of every stamp and squiggle on his missing person documents and giving you my most educated guess of their meaning as well as some of the people in our country’s history who shared those same marks with him. And trust me, you will be surprised—even those of you who feel that nothing more can surprise you about Ron Tammen. But I want to be 100% certain I’ve done my due diligence, which is why I’m being so slow and methodical before writing that post.

In the meantime, I want to discuss a couple dots that are easier to connect. They have to do with the following stamps on Ron’s records, two of which we’ve already discussed somewhat in prior posts:

ST-102, REC-19, and MCT-49.

I’m still not sure what most of these letters and numbers stand for, and it’s not because I haven’t tried. I’ve shown Ron’s records to every FBI contact I’ve ever met over the past 14 years, and no one has offered an explanation. As I mentioned in the comments section on my last post, recently, I asked an online history group from the National Archives, and they kindly consulted with their contacts at the FBI. Their response was that they were likely the stamps of the Records Division to help with indexing and serialization. 

I respectfully disagree. The Records Division may have had a say in assigning the actual case numbers, but they wouldn’t have been involved in assigning these stamps, which were repetitive and erratically placed and which seemed to convey coded information about the case itself. And so, using my eyes and my ability to compare and contrast one FBI document from another, I’ve come to the following conclusions:

ST stamp

The ST stamp appears on some the most sensitive FBI documents I’ve found online. Not all documents that share the same ST number are on the same topic, but they all seem to be a bigger deal than a run-of-the-mill FBI record. Here’s what I’ve ascertained:

  • They seem to deal with serious crimes or highly sensitive topics.
  • They deal with topics that pertain to the FBI’s former Domestic Intelligence Division and specifically with internal security, which is why I think they were assigned by people in that division.
  • The lower the number, the more important they seem to be, starting at ST-100. Therefore, ST-101 appears to be more sensitive than ST-141, and so on. Ron’s number, ST-102, seems to have been assigned to some of the steamiest hot-potato cases in the eyes of the FBI.
  • The ST numbers are invariably accompanied by a stamp with the letters REC.

I’ve come to notice that earlier intelligence documents didn’t use the ST designation. They started with the letters SE instead of ST. This makes sense since, before the FBI’s Domestic Intelligence Division came to be, there was the Security Division. SE could be short for Security. So far, the documents that I’ve found that started with SE did so from around 1946 through the late 1950s. To the best of my knowledge, the documents with ST designations were date-stamped from the early 1960s through 1974, or thereabouts.

REC stamp

I now know that the letters REC stand for RECORDED, and they include a number to the right of them. In Ron’s case, that number is 19. According to the book “Are You Now or Have You Ever Been In the FBI Files?”, to be recorded means that “a document has been placed in the appropriate file, and has been given a case and a serial number.” But, in my view, the REC number can’t just mean that alone. Otherwise, why would there be different numbers—why not a little box to check? And why would they always accompany an ST number? From what I can tell, the REC numbers seemed to provide additional info about a given case. For this reason, I believe that the FBI viewed documents with the same ST/REC numbers as somehow similar or related and ostensibly that they should be grouped together. More on this in a second.

MCT stamp

From what I can tell, the MCT numbers are tied to the Security Index. If a person was listed in the Security Index, it was extremely likely they had an MCT number. Ron was in the Security Index and his MCT number was 49. One thing I’ve noticed is that if a person was on the FBI’s radar in the early 1950s, around the time that the Security Division was handing out SE’s and not ST’s, they didn’t appear to be assigning MCT numbers. Even if a person was of extreme interest to them in the area of internal security, they didn’t have an MCT number.

So keeping all of the above in mind, do you know what I think about Ron’s missing person documents? I think the FBI stamped his pages in June 1973 after the Cincinnati Field Office had sent the guy from Welco’s fingerprints to FBI Headquarters for comparison to Ron’s prints. The reason is that they weren’t using either the ST or the MCT stamps in 1953. To date, the earliest MCT stamp that I’ve found was assigned in 1958 and the earliest ST stamp was in 1962. I think Ron’s papers had been languishing for decades in the Missing Person File Room, room number 1126 of the Identification Building, and were only known to a chosen few, J. Edgar Hoover being one of them. After Hoover died in 1972, and after the Cincinnati Field Office had inquired about Ron’s prints on May 9, 1973, other staffers had to come up to speed on Ron’s case which is when I believe he received his steamy stamps of the hot-potato variety.

This information is especially useful to us as we compare Ron’s documents to other records from 1973, which is why I’ve called all of us together at this time when many of you would like to get back to watching the Olympics. (P.S. Weren’t the Opening Ceremonies amazing last night?  Wasn’t Celine Dion INCREDIBLE??)

Here’s a document with an MCT-49 stamp from February 1973. The document has to do with the Black Panthers and an alleged plot to assassinate Vice President Spiro Agnew.

Here’s an ST-102, REC-19 stamp on a document from August 1973. The document has to do with an alleged plot to assassinate Sirhan Sirhan. To see the full report, click on the below image.

Click on image to access the full report.

And here’s page one of Ron’s FBI docs, for comparison.

What I’m trying to say here is that Ron was given his MCT-49 stamp four months after a document telling of a potential assassination plot against Spiro Agnew had been given the same stamp. He was given his ST-102, REC-19 stamps a mere two months before someone who was given the same stamps, a guy named Vladimir Zatko, claimed to have been paid $25K in advance to assassinate Sirhan Sirhan.

Incidentally, I found the Sirhan Sirhan/Vladimir Zatko documents tucked inside some of the James W. McCord records, the former CIA operative and Watergate burglar about whom I’ve written before. We’re interested in McCord because he and Ron both have ST-102, REC-19 stamps, though McCord’s extensive FBI file has other ST/REC stamps as well. But here’s what’s interesting about Zatko and McCord: James McCord’s name isn’t listed anywhere in the Vladimir Zatko letter, yet they were assigned the same ST-102, REC-19 stamps and someone from the FBI felt that McCord and Zatko should be filed together. E. Howard Hunt, a fellow CIA operative and mastermind of the Watergate burglary, is mentioned, but not McCord. (Apparently anything or anyone having to do with Watergate was filed under McCord, which doesn’t exactly seem fair.)

I just thought this development was important enough to warrant putting the TV on pause for a second.

Have a good weekend.

I think Ron Tammen was one of the persons being investigated for JFK’s assassination

I can’t believe I just wrote that headline. One of the cardinal rules of writing a true crime blog is to not paint oneself into a corner. Present some new theory, sure, but remember to use words like “may” or “could” so you have a way out if new info turns up that doesn’t support that theory. (Please note that I did say “I think,” but still…it’s risky.) 

Nevertheless, I’m sticking with it because I have evidence that Ron—our Ron—nice, quiet, studious Ron Tammen, who, then as now, HAPPENED TO BE MISSING, was being looked at by the House Select Committee on Assassinations (HSCA) in 1976 as they investigated President Kennedy’s assassination. What’s more, I think the HSCA, not to mention the FBI, had lumped him into the same category of people as mobsters Sam Trafficante and Sam Giancana, the Cuban Revolutionary Board, CIA operatives James McCord and E. Howard Hunt, and Lee Harvey Oswald himself. (The committee was also looking into Martin Luther King, Jr.’s assassination, though I don’t have evidence that Ron’s name had turned up in that case, at least so far.)

First, a little background about how we got here. It has to do with the ST-102 stamps on Ron’s missing person documents. Those stamps had become so easy for me to ignore. I suppose it’s because we as humans tend to prefer words when we’re reading documents as opposed to indecipherable numbers and initials. But one day, roughly 14 years after having seen Ron’s FBI documents for the very first time, I started paying attention to those stamps and the people who shared the same numbers and initials with Ron. I was soon startled to discover that these were some seriously high-profile people, many of whom were what you might refer to as bad guys. Other stamp sharers weren’t at all bad—they were just very idealistic. They were fighting for civil rights, speaking out against the war in Vietnam, and sending telegrams to the FBI out of concern for the safety of farm workers in the Coachella Valley. But bad or good, noble or ignoble, the FBI considered the above diverse crowd to be somehow similar. The Coachella telegrams were stamped with an ST-102, just like the ST-102 that the FBI stamped on memos concerning renowned mobsters, just like the ST-102 they stamped on a memo from Mexico City having to do with Lee Harvey Oswald, just like the ST-102 that they stamped on Ronald Tammen’s missing person documents.

One of Ron’s FBI documents. Click on image for a closer view.
One of James W. McCord’s FBI documents.. Click on image for a closer view.

In my last post, we discussed another weird discovery: that Ron shared both the ST-102 stamp and an accompanying stamp, REC-19, with James W. McCord, Jr.—and only James W. McCord, Jr.—who is best known for being one of the Watergate burglars. But James McCord did a lot more in his life than just bungle a political burglary. He’d been with the CIA from 1951 to 1970. From 1955 to 1962, he was part of the CIA’s Security Research Staff, which was ground zero for Projects ARTICHOKE and MKULTRA. In 1953, he was on assignment in NYC to investigate bioweapons expert Frank Olson’s fall from a 10th-story window and to help steer the investigation away from the CIA, according to H.P. Albarelli, Jr.’s book A Terrible Mistake. McCord had also been tied to the Kennedy assassination.

There are other stamps on Ron’s documents as well, which we can discuss a little later if you’d like, maybe in the comments. But the real reason I feel compelled to interrupt your Father’s Day concerns a couple other marks on his documents that weren’t stamped. These marks were handwritten by someone in pen or pencil. They are:

  • “Hac,” which is written at the top righthand corner of ten of Ron’s pages, and,
  • The number “F-189” on the bottom left of seven of Ron’s pages, near the date stamp. A similar-looking number appears on two of Ron’s pages—number 149, minus the F—but it’s the F-189 that we’ll be focusing on today.
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Let’s start with “Hac.” At first, I wondered if it stood for the first three letters of someone’s last name. Then I thought it might represent the first letter of someone’s first, middle, and last names, which is how FBI officials usually initialed their documents, although these appear as a word as opposed to three capital letters.

But now? Now I think it stands for the House Assassination Committee.

I know what you’re thinking. You’re thinking, “That’s not its true name. The true name was the House Select Committee on Assassinations, or HSCA.”

Correct! But you know what? Humans prefer their acronyms to be short, and, if at all possible, they like them to be pronounceable as made-up words. Also, most of us don’t like the word “Select” to be used in any official names, like ever. It’s too pompous-sounding for government work. Because you know what happened? People didn’t refer to the HSCA as such unless it was for official communication with the biggest of big wigs, such as the actual people on the HSCA. When it was just one run-of-the-mill fed writing to another fed, or if it was a news reporter writing about the activities of the committee, it was most commonly referred to as the House Assassination Committee. That was the committee’s working title. And the working abbreviation of the House Assassination Committee was HAC. I believe that’s what was being referenced on Ron’s documents. 

Click on image for a closer view. Note the reference to the House Assassination Committee (HAC) in the first paragraph.

As for Ron’s F number, I think it’s important too. I’ve noticed F numbers on many an FBI document, from the highly marked-up to the relatively clean, but not all FBI documents carry them. Here are some general observations I’ve made about the FBI’s F numbers:

  • The numbers aren’t terribly large—never more than three digits and I don’t believe I’ve seen any F numbers that exceed 500. 
  • A person might be assigned one F number on one document and a different F number on another document.
  • Rarely have I found two or more people sharing the same F number, but it does happen at times, as you’ll soon see. 
  • Although I don’t know the exact purpose for the F numbers, I think they probably have something to do with an oversight group trying to keep track of the morass of information generated by the FBI. The FBI had its Central Records System which was cross-referenced to its many indices, but the F numbers appear to fall outside of those usual FBI record-keeping systems.
  • An oversight group might be internal, such as the FBI’s Inspection Division, whose responsibility was to audit other FBI divisions. Or the oversight group could have been external, such as the House Assassination Committee. 

OK, I think that’s pretty good for starters. Let’s stop here, and do the rest as a Q&A.

Do you have hard evidence that led you to conclude that Hac stands for House Assassination Committee?

The first time I entertained the thought that Ron’s Hac notation might stand for the House Assassination Committee, I went looking for other Hac notations. I needed someone else to have Hac written on their document. Extra points if that person was indeed investigated by the House Assassination Committee. 

Well, I’ve found a document that indeed has the letters “Hac” written on it, though it’s in the bottom lefthand corner, on the signature line reserved for the Special Agent in Charge (SAC) of an FBI form. This particular document is written from the SAC of the Las Vegas field office to the FBI director. The document has to do with a Rose Bowl gambling ring and a guy named Edward Kiper Moss. 

What really got my attention though is that this Hac appears to be written in the same handwriting as the one on Ron’s documents. There’s the same “H” with a loop that strays past the left vertical line. There’s the seemingly same “a.” Ditto with the “c.”

So…that’s exciting, right? I mean…was Ron a known commodity to the Las Vegas FBI? Well, hold on. The Las Vegas field office did have an SAC with two out of three of those initials. His name was Harold E. Campbell. He retired in April of 1972. The three letters “ret” probably stand for “retired.”

But that’s weird too, since the memo from the SAC is dated March 18, 1971. Harold was still in charge of the Las Vegas FBI then. Why didn’t he sign it in 1971? What’s more, did someone bring him out of retirement to sign his form and he accidentally got his middle initial wrong? Yeah, no. Methinks that someone else signed Harold’s form years later and added the “ret” to make it more honest and less like a forgery. That same person signed another of Harold’s forms, this one from August 1968 dealing with the Las Vegas division of La Cosa Nostra. (Harold wasn’t much for signing the bottoms of his forms, apparently.) The 1968 form has JFK verbiage at the top. Also, this one looks like they got the middle initial right.

I know what you’re thinking. You’re thinking that even if Ron’s missing person forms and Harold Campbell’s Las Vegas forms appear to have been signed by the same person, they don’t necessarily point to the House Assassination Committee. 

Maybe not. But I’ve noticed other FBI documents in which a handwritten H has a strikingly similar wayward loop, though, admittedly, they slant a little differently sometimes. Instead of preceding the acronym Hac, these H’s precede the word Hess, the last name of Jacqueline Hess, who was the deputy chief researcher on the House Assassination Committee. You guys, I’ve been staring at Ron’s and Jacqueline’s H’s for a very long time, and as of this writing, I believe that whoever wrote the “Hac” on Ron’s FBI documents was the same person who wrote Jacqueline’s last name at the top of other FBI documents.

After all, it’s not Jacqueline’s handwriting. Her handwriting looked like this:

So it appears to me that the person who wrote Hac on Ron’s forms was somehow knowledgeable about matters pertaining to the House Assassination Committee. That person also appears to have been the one who supplied the after-the-fact signatures for Harold E. Campbell and the Las Vegas field office. And why would those signatures be necessary to supply years later? Probably because they were being reviewed by an oversight group of some sort.

But the Hac notations aren’t the only interesting detail about Harold’s memo about Edward Kimper Moss.

I’m listening.

Do you see Edward Moss’s F number? It says F-189. Ron’s says F189 too. For Edward K. Moss and Ronald H. Tammen, Jr., to share the same F number tells me that someone felt those two individuals had enough in common that they should be grouped together. In my view, that someone had something to do with an oversight group, such as (again, in my view) the House Assassination Committee.

Click on image for a closer view.

Who was Edward Kiper Moss?

The name Edward Kiper Moss may sound like some boring accountant from the East Coast, but he was anything but. Officially, he’d been a PR analyst for the federal government at one time, but he was known to do business with gangsters and Cuban exiles who wanted to overthrow Fidel Castro. He also was a PR adviser to foreign governments and a CIA operative. According to the book One Nation Under Blackmail, by Whitney Webb, as well as Deep Politics and the Death of JFK, by Peter Dale Scott, Edward K. Moss was a powerful person with deep ties to the Mafia, foreign governments, and the CIA. He was most definitely investigated by the House Assassination Committee with regards to JFK’s assassination. So far, I’ve only read what’s available online. Now that I know that Edward K. Moss and Ron Tammen were assigned the same F number, I’ll be reading those books pronto.

Plus, don’t forget Ron Tammen’s link to James W. McCord, Jr.

Yeah, what about that? What did James McCord have to do with JFK’s assassination?

He didn’t admit it, and he threatened to sue two individuals and the magazine The Realist for libel when an article published there mentioned the alleged tie-in. 

Here’s what I can tell you. In a follow-up article written by Paul Krassner titled “Dear James McCord,” Krassner discusses McCord’s threatened lawsuit and he doesn’t back down. The original article, which was written by Mae Brussell, had referenced a passage in a book titled The Glass House Tapes, by Louis E. Tackwood. Brussell paraphrased that “James McCord, according to Louis Tackwood, was in Dallas the day Kennedy was shot, and flown afterwards to the Caribbean.” Tackwood had also divulged that McCord went by the alias of Martin, a fact that Brussell had repeated.

I don’t know if James McCord was in Dallas that day, but I can at least provide corroboration that McCord’s alias was Elwood Martin. You can see it for yourself on the below FBI document. Also, for a person who claimed not to have anything to do with JFK’s assassination, I find it interesting that his name has turned up on so many JFK documents that were released to the public over the years.

Click on image for a closer view. James Walter McCord, aka Elwood Martin, is listed at position number 1.

What could Ron have been up to?

Great question. Based on the resumes of some of the people he’s been tied to, it doesn’t look good.

Holy crap. Ronald Tammen’s FBI docs have the same identifying numbers stamped on them as a guy from the CIA

P.S. So far, they’re the only two people on the planet with this combination of identifying numbers

P.P.S. And even though CIA dude is famous for something else, you won’t believe what he was doing in 1953

Greetings! Admittedly, that was a rather lengthy title and subtitle, not to mention sub-subtitle, but sometimes a person has to put everything out there ASAP and this qualifies as one of those times.

I’ve found documents that tie Ronald Tammen to…well…this guy:

His name was James W. McCord, Jr., and he became famous in 1972, when he was identified as one of five Watergate burglars. What’s interesting about McCord, along with E. Howard Hunt, who masterminded the burglary, is that they were longtime CIA operatives just two years before it happened. And, although the CIA doesn’t claim him as such, burglar Frank Sturgis has been linked to Langley as well. 

Mind you, the FBI didn’t come off squeaky clean. Another famous Watergate plotter, G. Gordon Liddy, had been with the FBI in the late 1950s to early ‘60s. McCord had ties to the FBI too. He’d worked there after graduating from college in 1949. In 1951, he moved over to the CIA, where he worked until August 1970.

So, would it surprise you to learn that the FBI’s identifying stamps on James W. McCord’s FBI Watergate documents match the stamps on Ronald Tammen’s documents? That certainly surprised me! Moreover, to the best of my knowledge, no other people on the planet—and by “planet,” I mean no other people whose FBI documents have been posted online—possess that combination of stamps on their FBI documents.

How is it possible that a quiet 19-year-old who mysteriously went missing from an Ohio college campus in 1953 has anything in common with a seasoned CIA operative…so much so that the FBI has lumped those two individuals in the same category? How?

I made this discovery yesterday as I was searching through more FBI records that had the stamp ST-102 on them. As I read through the documents, it occurred to me that, despite the documents having the same ST-102 designation, they were very, very…different. The information that the FBI had wanted to keep secret was all over the map, from the names of potential confidential informants; to details regarding urban guerilla warfare; interstate gambling; Black nationalism; JFK’s assassination; Watergate; Cesar Chavez and the United Farm Workers; and the cute and funny foursome whose antics kept me giggling so much as a third-grade girl. I speak, of course, of The Monkees, a 1960s pop group that starred in its own TV show and that brought us such tunes as I’m a Believer, Last Train to Clarksville, and Steppin’ Stone. Evidently, the FBI had a problem with 9-year-old mini me dancing in the rec room to Micky Dolenz (my favorite), Davy Jones, Michael Nesmith, and Peter Tork because the Monkees posed a danger of some sort, what with their outspoken opposition to the Vietnam War and all. (Although the three other Monkees have passed away, I just want to say to Micky, if he ever happens to be reading this: thank you for your outspokenness. You were right.) 

It was a broad range of topics—too broad. I figured that, for ST-102 to have any meaning, there must be some way for the FBI to break topics down by category. In addition, I noticed that the ST numbers didn’t stop at 102. They ranged from 101 to at least the teens, possibly higher. Also, just because one document in a subject area happened to be assigned ST-102 doesn’t mean that all of the documents in that subject would have that designation. Sometimes, another would be given an ST-105, for example. 

Most important of all, I noticed another number that usually accompanied the ST-102 number. This number is preceded by the letters REC. Don’t ask me what REC stands for. I’m not sure. If you have any ideas, please feel free to suggest them in the comments.

Here are some examples of the REC numbers that accompanied ST-102:

  • James Franklin Hooker et al (urban guerrilla warfare): 15
  • Carlton Benjamin Goodlett (potential information source): 16
  • Susan Heiligman Frank aka IS China (something related to JFK assassination): 40
  • Dino Vincent Cellini (interstate gambling): 42
  • The Monkees (outspoken against Vietnam War): 72

Ron’s REC number was 19. Consistently. If there was an ST-102 on a page, there would be an REC-19 close by.

As for James McCord, his REC number was 19 too. He had a lot more pages (I mean, we’re talking Watergate), so I can’t say for certain that the 19 always showed up with the ST-102, nor can I say that he was always assigned an ST-102. However, what I can say for sure is that in multiple documents on James W. McCord, Jr., there was an REC-19 right next to ST-102.

I’ve found no other person, to date, with the ST-102, REC-19 designation. I’ll keep looking, and I invite you to do so as well. You can start by visiting The Black Vault as well as the FBI Vault and start looking at documents for the ST-102 stamp. If you find anything that supports or refutes my theory, please let me know.

Let’s talk a little more about James McCord’s activities. We know without a doubt that he was CIA from 1951 to 1970, which, if we trust the two stamps on his Watergate-related documents, could be a strong indication that Ron was CIA too. Also, we know all about Watergate. We have info up the wazoo about his role in Watergate. But he wasn’t officially in the CIA anymore by then. What was going on with James McCord in the 1950s is less known.

Thankfully, H.P. Albarelli, Jr., has done an exhaustive amount of research into the suspicious death of Frank Olson, whom we’ve spoken of. Olson, who was a bioweapons expert, had been given LSD at a cabin retreat days prior by CIA officials Sidney Gottlieb and Robert Lashbrook. On November 28, 1953, while he was visiting New York with Lashbrook, he “fell” out of a 10th-story window at the Hotel Statler. 

According to Albarelli, in 1953, McCord was part of the Security Research Staff of the CIA’s Office of Security Branch. He was a colleague of Morse Allen’s, also of the Security Branch, who was one of the key players in the CIA’s mind control efforts. McCord was sent to New York shortly after Olson’s death to investigate what happened. He also helped ensure that the original police report about Olson’s death was never seen. McCord helped orchestrate the CIA’s cover-up.

Albarelli’s book is titled “A Terrible Mistake: The Murder of Frank Olson and the CIA’s Secret Cold War Experiments.”

There’s a lot more to learn here, but for now, let’s leave it at this: Not only do we have a tangible link between Ron Tammen and the CIA, but this could also be a link to MKULTRA. 

Therefore, while we’re looking for the ST-102s, be sure to keep your eyes peeled for REC-19s. Whatever we find could help us determine how Ron might have been used by the CIA after he disappeared.

Short post: Ron Tammen’s FBI docs have been stamped with ‘ST-102’. Here’s why it’s a big deal 

We always knew that Ron Tammen’s case was a little different, right? The total runaround I’ve been getting from various parties tells you that there must be something inherently special about it, right? Plus, there was the whole Missing Person File Room thing that no one at the FBI seemed to know anything about. There was also the removal of his missing person documents from “Ident” in May 1973 for no explicable reason. Then there was the purging of Ron’s fingerprints 30 years too soon, and the FBI’s withholding of the reason why they purged them. (I had to go to the National Archives for that info.) All very, very…special. 

You know what would help me out tremendously? It would help a lot if someone who had in-depth knowledge about FBI scribblings were to look at his documents and say to me (off the record, natch), “Oh, wow. That’s something. I can’t believe that’s there.” And to date, no one has done that. I’ve run Ron’s FBI documents by several people in the know, and not one has looked at them and said, “Well, I’ll be darned. That right there? That’s significant.”

I think one or two of my people-in-the-know have been holding out on me. 

What’s gotten me to this point is my recent discovery concerning two Miami graduates whose mother had worked for years as a cashier at the Oxford National Bank, including the year Ron disappeared. Both men became FBI special agents after their graduation, and in 1953, one of them was working at FBI Headquarters in Washington, D.C. To be clear, I don’t think either of these men had anything to do with Ron’s disappearance. But it occurs to me that they might have been somewhat interested in the case because A) they’d grown up in Oxford, B) they were Miami grads, and C) there might have been something they could have done to help in the search. Plus, I’m sure their mother as well as their father, who happened to be Oxford’s village clerk, would have brought up the Tammen case whenever they talked on the phone. Heck, the younger brother had worked for Champion Paper right before his stint with the FBI. He might have even known Dorothy Craig.

I’ve been concentrating on the older brother lately, since he stayed with the FBI for his entire career, and he made his way up the ladder. Let’s just say that he would have been on speaking terms with J. Edgar Hoover and a few other recognizable names, including “Deep Throat” himself, Mark Felt. I was especially interested in knowing if he’d been in the loop in 1973 when the Cincinnati field office had sent in the guy’s fingerprints from Welco Industries to see if it might be Ron. That also happened to be the time when Ron’s missing person file was “Removed from Ident files” for whatever reason. Nothing was made public at that time, so it might be telling if an FBI official from Oxford, Ohio, had access to all of that inside info but didn’t say anything to anyone back home about that rather huge development.

So what I’ve been up to these days is poring over a ton of FBI memos, and comparing all of the marks, numbers, and initials to the ones on Ron’s documents. In short, I’ve been trying to find a direct link between Ron’s documents and our FBI guy from Oxford. I don’t know if one exists, but I’ll keep looking. 

That said, I can report something that I believe is big news: You know the stamp that’s on quite a few of Ron’s FBI documents, the one that says ST-102? That stamp is not on ANY OTHER missing person documents that I’m currently in possession of, including the hundreds of documents for Richard Cox. Bear in mind that I’ve been attempting to review even more FBI missing person documents, for which I’ve been told that it will take 39 months before I can see them. (I was given this estimate in December 2022, so we’ve shaved off about 16 of those months.) We’ll all be a couple years older by the time that happens. But as of this date and this time, I know of NO OTHER missing person document with the stamp ST-102 other than those of Ron Tammen, and he has it on 8 out of 22 pages.

Do you know which documents do have the ST-102 stamp on them? Some documents having to do with the JFK assassination and Watergate and a few other hot-button issues.

A formerly secret document from the JFK collection. ST-102 is at the bottom center.
A document from the Watergate collection. ST-102 is near the top left.

I know what you’re thinking: you’re thinking, “well, that’s probably because those are the the kinds of documents that people are actually requesting. They’re not requesting the boring stuff.”

OK, point taken. But still, I think it’s worth noting that a stamp that I originally took to be pretty basic and probably something that could be found on all incoming missing person documents and whatnot was NOT for all incoming missing person documents (and whatnot).

Also, if you type in “ST-102” AND FBI into Google, you’re not going to get a lot of FBI documents, since few organizations have transcribed that number onto their websites. But the documents you do get tend to have something to do with JFK or Watergate or Cesar Chavez and the United Farm Workers, or someone named Ron Tammen.

Oh, there’s this one too. Although it’s missing a letterhead, an agency name has been stamped prominently at the top that you’ll recognize.

A CIA document. ST-102 is in the center.

OK, I’ll end here. I told you this would be short.

Louis Jolyon West’s relatively rocky start with the CIA: How a ‘talkative,’ ‘unconventional’ ‘champion of the underdog’ became the face of MKULTRA

At some point in our lives, all of us has learned the valuable lesson that…pardon my French…💩 happens. By this, I mean that not everything is going to go exactly as planned. Sometimes, there’ll be the occasional hiccup, even though no one is really at fault. 

As a matter of fact, 💩 happened to me very recently. That’s not surprising for someone who spends a lot of their time doing what I do. But you know what? As all-powerful as the CIA has been throughout its history, sometimes 💩 happens to the CIA too. That’ll play a part in the story that I’ll be sharing with you today.  

Let’s do this the fun way…Q&A. The floor is now open. 

What was the bad thing that happened to you recently?

You know my Labor Day post on Facebook? The one where I was discussing a memo that I felt was describing Louis Jolyon West to a “T”? (I still feel that’s the case, by the way.) In my post, I made the bold claim that the number at the top of the memo—A/B, 5, 44/14—was an important clue, and that any document with a similar alphanumeric pattern and a number 44 in the second-to-last position would have something to do with Jolly West. Not only that, but I felt that two memos within that classification were probably describing St. Clair Switzer. Unfortunately, I came to realize later on that I’d gotten some details in my theory wrong, including the part about Switzer. 

Of course, I felt horrible because I really hate to say wrong things and mislead you all. But then, after doing a lot more digging, I’ve come to believe that I wasn’t that far off the mark. Yes, some things I got wrong, but I also feel confident that I got a number of things right. So I’m feeling a lot better now.

Here’s a copy of the memo, which was written on April 16, 1954, by the CIA’s Technical Branch chief, Morse Allen, to the chief of the CIA’s Security Research Staff. Paragraph 2 is what convinced me that he was referring to West.

The April 16, 1954 memo which shows its A/B classification number. Note that the CIA sometimes used Roman numerals and sometimes they separated the last two numbers by a slash instead of a comma. For consistency, I’ve chosen to use Arabic numerals and a slash between the last two numbers. Click on image for a closer view, thanks to theBlackVault.com.

Why are you so sure that April 16, 1954, memo is describing Jolly West?

I’d like to answer your question a little bit now, and a little more later. Based on documents that I found in UCLA’s Archives, West had become disenchanted with his position at Lackland Air Force Base (AFB) not too long after his arrival in July 1952. Back then, he was a 20-something hot-shot psychiatrist and hypnosis researcher who’d performed his residency training in psychiatry at Cornell University’s Payne Whitney Clinic in NYC. West viewed his time at Cornell with fondness, and he’d thought that he might like to return there one day as a faculty member. However, because the Air Force had made it financially possible for him to take his residency training in psychiatry, he was obligated to serve four years at the hospital on base.

In July 1953, when a neurologist who West didn’t seem to care for at Lackland was promoted to supervisor over both the neurology and psychiatry programs, West felt as if his wings had been clipped. He also worried that this development would jeopardize the plans he was cooking up with Sidney Gottlieb in regard to hypnosis and drug research under CIA’s Artichoke program. The last thing he needed was someone looking over his shoulder, especially when that someone wasn’t a believer in the use of hypnosis on patients.

Fast forward to April 1954, when Jolly was being courted by the University of Oklahoma for the position of professor and head of the Department of Psychiatry, Neurology, and Behavioral Sciences. Five days after Morse Allen had written his memo to the chief of the Security Research Staff, the dean of the University of Oklahoma’s School of Medicine wrote to Surgeon General Harry G. Armstrong, asking him to please relieve Jolly West of his duties with the Air Force so they could hire him. Armstrong wasn’t too keen on the idea at first, but by the end of September, under a new surgeon general named Dan Ogle, Jolly was permitted to begin his transition to the University of Oklahoma. It took some fancy finagling by an Agency representative named Major Hughes (I think it was a pseudonym used by Sidney Gottlieb) to help convince Air Force officials that this move would be in everyone’s best interest. 

Before we move on, can we talk about the letters and numbers at the top of the memo? What do you think they mean?

Many (though not all) of the MKULTRA documents have similar notations in the upper righthand corner. The A/B is consistently in the front. According to Colin A. Ross, M.D., a psychiatrist, author, and MKULTRA expert, the A/B stands for Artichoke/Bluebird. After the A/B is a number between 1 and 7, which is sometimes written as a Roman numeral. This number represents a grouping of like files. Although I’m not sure about the meaning of the other numbers, the number 5 appears to represent consultants of some sort. The second-to-last number—in this case, 44—is unique to a person or group of people who seem to be linked somehow. The last number is the number assigned to each document within the category. In 44’s case, the last number runs from 1 to 17, with a couple numbers (9 and 11) being skipped over, probably because the CIA decided we shouldn’t see them. One thing I’ve noticed is that the last numbers weren’t assigned in chronological order. Some seem to run in reverse chronological order. This makes me think that they were numbered by someone after MKULTRA became public in 1977.

This question is a two-parter: What was your hypothesis when you wrote your Facebook post on Labor Day and how has that changed?

It has to do with document A/B, 5, 44/1 (aka # 146319), which has the title “RESEARCH PLAN” typed in all caps at the top of the first page. The document describes a research project in which a team of researchers plans to study a demographic group referred to as criminal sexual psychopaths who were being hospitalized in the same facility. The point of the research was to use narco-analysis (psychoanalysis with the assistance of drugs) and hypnosis to see if the patients would admit to actions that they denied but that were documented through police reports and other records. In other words, they wanted to see if they could get people who made a practice of being deceptive to admit the truth.

What I initially thought

First of all, I knew that Jolly West was named in the January 14, 1953, memo as being part of the “well-balanced interrogation research center.” I also knew that Jolly West had written articles on the topic of homosexuality in the Air Force, and had studied airmen who were gay or who were accused of being gay at Lackland AFB from 1952 through 1956. Because it was the 1950s, I’d thought that perhaps it was an archaic term for gay individuals who’d been incarcerated, but I was mistaken. The term “criminal sexual psychopath” generally was used to describe people who’d committed sexual crimes against children and, what’s more, it wasn’t a term that was used universally back then. Canada used it as did the states of Indiana and Michigan. There may have been others, but I wasn’t seeing it in use in Texas or in the military. 

I later learned through old news accounts that the study on criminal sexual psychopaths was conducted by Alan Canty, Sr., a psychologist and executive director of the Recorder’s Court Psychopathic Clinic in Detroit, whose work included the analysis and placement of individuals whose cases had gone through the Wayne County criminal justice system. The selected location for the CIA’s project was Ionia State Hospital, in Ionia, Michigan, where 142 individuals labeled as criminal sexual psychopaths had been residing at that time. 

What I think now

Because references to Jolly West can be found in documents occupying the same “44” category as the researchers from Michigan, and because the researchers were receiving assistance from at least one outside consultant, my current hypothesis is that West had been providing guidance to them on occasion. Sidney Gottlieb signed off on the Ionia State Hospital project, listed as MKULTRA Subproject 39, on December 9, 1954. By that date, Jolly was spending roughly one week out of every month in his newly acquired academic role in Oklahoma City.

By the by? I still have my suspicions regarding whether Jolly may have been conducting his own studies on gay airmen stationed at Lackland AFB. In 1953, Air Force Regulation (AFR) 35-66 mandated that homosexuals were not permitted in the Air Force. If someone was caught in the act or if someone reported their suspicions to the authorities, that person would be subjected to a lengthy investigation, a portion of which included a psychiatric examination, which is when Jolly West would enter the picture. What’s more, during the investigative period, these men were placed on “casual status,” and relocated to a special barracks to await the results of their respective investigations and final rulings, a process which could take months. Somehow, I can’t imagine West walking by the special barracks and not thinking that these men sequestered together with little else to do would make good test subjects in the detection of deception.

Now that we know what the criminal sexual psychopath study was about, can I address the rest of the question that you’d asked earlier about how I’m sure that the April 1954 memo is referring to Jolly West?

Yeah, sure. Why else do you think the April 1954 memo is referring to Jolly West?

I’ve researched the primary participants in the criminal sexual psychopath study, and everyone was steadfastly employed in their positions in April 1954. Ostensibly, no one was looking for work elsewhere as evidenced by the fact that no one left. In addition, a psychiatrist and an anesthesiologist from the University of Minnesota whom I suspected had offered guidance to the Michiganders were happy in their jobs as well. To the best of my knowledge, no one directly or peripherally tied to that project was being considered for another job in April 1954. Only Louis Jolyon West.

Interesting. I noticed that you said there were ‘references’—plural—to Jolly West in documents occupying the same ‘44’ category as the researchers from Michigan. Where else have you found a reference to West?

Excellent catch! This is where our story gets fun…and it’s also where, as I noted earlier, the CIA was experiencing some, um, difficulty of the “💩’s a-happenin’” variety.

It all began when I was using the searchable, sortable MKULTRA index that Good Man friend and history buff Julie Miles created, and focusing heavily on the documents that were dated within the window of 1952 through 1954. I noticed that, at some point, a psychiatrist was having a tough time getting through the CIA’s clearance process. I’ve read that CIA clearance is a lengthy process that’s stricter than any of the other federal agencies, so it didn’t surprise me that it wouldn’t be easy. Fleetingly, I may have wondered who it might have been, but I didn’t get all that hung up over it.

Then I read document A/B, 5, 44/3 (#146321), dated July 24, 1953. The document is a memo from Morse Allen, chief of the Technical Branch, to the chief of the Security Research Staff, and he’s seriously worked up over the clearance issue. 

Click on image for a closer view, thanks to theBlackvault.com.
Click on image for a closer view, thanks to theBlackvault.com.

Apparently, when the CIA’s Special Security Division (SSD) was conducting its preliminary investigation into Morse’s man of interest, they discovered that another entity had conducted an investigation into that same person in mid-June 1953.

The other investigation was described as a “full field investigation,” which is an intensive background check into new government hires in which interviews are conducted with former bosses, family members, neighbors, clergy, you name it, and their comments are written up into summaries called “synopses.” Although full field investigations had been used before in the federal government, they were more notably implemented after Exec. Order 10450 was signed in April 1953. At that point, all civilian federal agencies were required to conduct full field investigations on new hires to make sure they wouldn’t be putting the nation at risk by giving information to the communists. The military required a full field investigation for Top Secret classifications. (As you may recall, the real reason behind Exec. Order 10450 was to purge the federal government of homosexuals because they claimed that they could be blackmailed.) 

So, to quickly recap: someone other than the CIA had conducted a full field investigation on Morse Allen’s man of interest and the memo which discusses the findings is labeled under the #44 category.

Moreover, this particular full field investigation had something to do with the military. I believe this is true because, over New Year’s this year, this blog site took advantage of the down time to decode what some of the letters in the margins of the MKULTRA documents mean. For example, we determined that an “A” stands for an Agency employee; a “C” stands for a contractor; and so on. (They didn’t always start with the same letter, but in those cases, they did.) In the July 24, 1953, document, the margins are filled with A’s, C’s, and H’s, the latter of which, we determined, was used for the Department of Defense or one of its military branches.

That’s extremely interesting, because none of the other people associated with the proposed research project at Ionia State Hospital had anything to do with the military. They would have needed to undergo the CIA’s clearance process, but they wouldn’t have to be subjected to a full field investigation by the military in June 1953.

There’s a lot in this memo, which we can discuss in the comments if you’d like. For now, let’s go to my favorite paragraph, which is paragraph number 5:

“You will note that these synopses indicate that REDACTED is ‘talkative,’ somewhat ‘unconventional’ and a ‘champion of the underdog’ but, according to all informants, he does not discuss classified information and can be trusted with Top Secret matters.”

That’s it. That’s the giveaway. Morse Allen is talking about Louis Jolyon West.

Wait—why is that the giveaway? Was Jolly West talkative? Unconventional? Was he a champion of the underdog? 

The answers are yes, yes, and, although you may find this surprising, yes he was. But don’t take my word for it. I have a few anecdotes to share. 

On being talkative

First, there was his nickname—Jolly West—which is an indicator of his gigantic personality that seemed to match his size 2XL frame. A 1985 Los Angeles Times article on Jolly and his wife Kathryn said: “Psychiatrist West’s nickname, Jolly, seems unlikely to casual acquaintances, for his manner is serious, attentive, concerned. But he lightens up with frequent moments of laughter, and he can convey a measure of humor even in moments of stress.” 

That was written when Jolly was a mellow 61. Imagine him when he was 28 and eager to impress his superiors and overpower his competition.

In an article that appeared in the U.K. publication The Independent after his death, a colleague of West’s, Dr. Milton H. Miller, said he was: “above all, a colourful figure, an alive person who loved to be on stage.” 

On being unconventional

This is a broad term—what does it even mean? But yes, it’s safe to say that Jolly West wasn’t your run-of-the-mill psychiatrist who’d been sent to medical school by monied parents. His father had immigrated to the United States from Ukraine, and according to The Independent, his mother taught piano lessons in Brooklyn. His family, who’d later moved to Madison, WI, struggled financially, and he had to work hard and think creatively to find his way in the world. 

“We were, in fact, quite poor,” West said in the 1985 L.A. Times article. “Some of our neighbors didn’t have jobs. Some had no books. The family across the street had no bathtub. It was strictly the wrong side of the tracks. But in our house there was an attitude of ‘Thank God, we’re in America,’ and there was always a willingness to help others.”

According to that same article, West enlisted in the Army during WWII because, as a Jewish teen, he took Hitler’s fascism personally and he wanted to fight and kill.

“I was a bloodthirsty young fellow,” he said.

Because there was a shortage of Army physicians, the Army steered Jolly West to medical school, first at the University of Iowa, and later at the University of Minnesota. As mentioned earlier, the Air Force had financially supported his residency at Cornell, which is why he was obligated to serve at Lackland AFB for four years before finally severing his military ties.

On being a champion of the underdog

This one is so fascinating, knowing what we now know about West and some of his more questionable actions during the MKULTRA years. But he truly was a believer in civil rights. 

A 2001 article on Charlton Heston in the Los Angeles Magazine said that Heston and Louis Jolyon West were best friends(!) and that in the 1950s, after Jolly had moved to the University of Oklahoma, he’d reached out to Heston, and “the two friends teamed up with a black colleague of West’s to desegregate local lunch counters.”

In 1983 and 1984, Jolly flew to South Africa to speak out against apartheid.

“Everybody makes a difference,” he said in the 1985 L.A. Times article. “You can fight city hall. You can change the world. It might not seem like much of a change at the time, but you have the power as an individual to do a great deal.”

West was also fiercely opposed to capital punishment. In 1975, he published a paper in the American Journal of Orthopsychiatry which provided one of the most strongly-worded abstracts I’ve ever read—and I’ve read a lot of them:

“Capital punishment is outdated, immoral, wasteful, cruel, brutalizing, unfair, irrevocable, useless, dangerous, and obstructive of justice. In addition, psychiatric observations reveal that it generates disease through the torture of death row; it perverts the identity of physicians from trials to prison wards to executions; and, paradoxically, it breeds more murder than it deters.”

So, yeah. I can see someone describing Jolly West with the words used in the memo. That the CIA would consider someone being characterized as a “champion of the underdog” as a knock against him kind of tells you all you need to know about the CIA of the 1950s.`

But what about the last part of paragraph 5? The part that said: “according to all informants, he does not discuss classified information and can be trusted with Top Secret matters.” Under what scenario would Jolly West come into contact with “informants”—again, plural—and be in a position to discuss classified information with them?

That line threw me too until I thought about the people West associated with when he was at Cornell. Two of the faculty members that he would have known well were Harold G. Wolff, a personal friend of Allen Dulles, and Lawrence E. Hinkle, who published a study with Wolff titled “Communist Interrogation and Indoctrination of ‘Enemies of the State’” in 1956. They were the CIA’s go-to’s in brainwashing. 

In 1955, Wolff created the Society for the Investigation of Human Ecology (later referred to as the Human Ecology Fund), which supported the Ionia State Hospital study. Hinkle, who was also in a leadership role in the society, was one of the primary contacts for the study’s researchers. It’s certainly plausible that Harold Wolff, Lawrence Hinkle, and Jolly West could have discussed national secrets when Jolly was conducting hypnosis studies at Cornell. For Morse Allen to identify Hinkle and Wolff as CIA informants in July 1953 doesn’t seem like a stretch of the imagination. Not in the least.

Oh my gosh. I just thought of something.

What?

Read Paragraph 6 of the July 24, 1953, memo. Morse Allen says the following:

“In further consideration, it should be remembered that REDACTED will be dealing with close personal friends and close professional associates of his in the REDACTED ARTICHOKE work and further if he works with us his professional reputation may conceivably be greatly enhanced by successful development of our program. These elements should be weighed, of course, in the evaluation of REDACTED.”

When you consider paragraphs 5 and 6 together, Morse Allen is saying: yes, I agree, West is currently an immature idealist. But if he could be cleared according to our plan—which is at the Secret level, not even Top Secret—he’ll be in close contact with CIA-sanctioned researchers Harold Wolff and Lawrence Hinkle, which will “greatly enhance” his “professional reputation.” In other words, if Security would just clear him, Morse and his pals could mold Jolly West into the person they desire him to be. Less angry young man—more “this is the way the world works.” Because Wolff and Hinkle were closely tied to the Society for the Investigation of Human Ecology, and the society funded the Ionia State Hospital study, it’s conceivable that Louis Jolyon West played a role in the study too, which was good reason to have his documents marked with a “44.”

Harold G. Wolff (credit: 1957 Annual Report or the Society for the Investigation of Human Ecology) Fair Use
Lawrence E. Hinkle, Jr. (credit: 1957 Annual Report of the Society for the Investigation of Human Ecology) Fair Use

[You can link to the 1957 Annual Report of the Society for the Investigation of Human Ecology.]

Very interesting. But how does that impact your hypothesis regarding St. Clair Switzer?

I’m happy you brought this up. You’re absolutely right—that’s why we’re here. We’re trying to understand how Ronald Tammen’s psychology professor St. Clair Switzer might have been used in Project Artichoke and, in turn, what might have happened to Ronald Tammen after he went missing from Miami University’s campus.

I haven’t budged from my belief that, in January 1953, St. Clair Switzer was mentioned in the same paragraph as Louis J. West for a “well-balanced interrogation research center.” In fact, I feel stronger about that hypothesis now more than ever. 

Let’s zoom in on the names of the Major and the Lt. Colonel in paragraph 3 of the January 14 memo. When we zoom in on the Major, we can see the letters of West’s first name—the L, the o, the u, the dotted i, and the s—even though it’s crossed out. We can see the J. We can sort of see the West. It’s him. Also, we know that Sidney Gottlieb was having conversations with West about a hypnosis and drug research center in June and early July 1953—roughly the time when the CIA’s Security office was conducting its preliminary investigation into the person who was talkative and unconventional.

The Lt. Colonel’s name is harder to see, but I definitely see a capital S. Without a doubt. I happen to see a w and a z as well. (Oh, who am I kidding? I see all the letters.) And I’ll be honest—I haven’t come across very many lieutenant colonels in the Air Force in 1953 with last names that began with S that were also hypnosis experts. In fact, I only know of one. (Switzer.) We’re still waiting on our Mandatory Declassification Review to see if we can finally remove the redactions and put that question to rest.

But there’s more. Do you recall how, at first, the Air Force Surgeon General’s Office wasn’t entirely on board with having the CIA using one of its bases as a testing ground for hypnosis and drugs? A memo dated September 23, 1952, was focused upon two individuals who were under consideration for the endeavor. Person A, a U.S. commander, had “nothing to contribute in the line of research.” (See paragraph 2.) 

Click on image for a closer view, thanks to theBlackvault.com.

As for Person B, a CIA rep said they were “inclined to go easy on him from a security standpoint, because of his propensity to talk.” (See paragraph 3.)

In paragraph 4, a colonel in the Surgeon General’s Office was speaking of Person A (I believe) when he said that “he thinks very highly of REDACTED, and that it will be essential to keep him cut into the picture.” The words “air research” were handwritten above the essential person’s blackened name.

In a former blog post, I argued that Person A, the one whom the colonel thought very highly of, was likely St. Clair Switzer, since he’d recently spent a summer working for the Air Research and Development Command, and he and the surgeon general had a connection with Wright Patterson AFB. Perhaps Switzer’s name was being floated as a liaison between the interrogation research center at Lackland AFB and the Office of the Surgeon General.

Today, I’m adding to that hypothesis. I’d suggest that Person B, who had the “propensity to talk,” was Jolly West. Perhaps the Office of the Surgeon General thought West a wee bit too chatty, and St. Clair Switzer—quiet, conventional, obsequious to the powerful—was brought in to appease the brass. 

OK! I think that’s all for today. Questions? Concerns?

**********************

To demonstrate how well Jolly West knew the guys at Cornell, he’s written Dr. Harold G. Wolff’s name as a character reference on a form he’d filled out on November 4, 1955. (I don’t know the purpose of the form.) Wolff’s name is directly below West’s adviser at Cornell, Dr. Oskar Diethelm.

When Doc met Jolly: the sequel

I think it’s time we elaborated a little on our theory about St. Clair (Doc) Switzer and famed MKULTRA researcher Louis Jolyon (Jolly) West. For a while now, I’ve been frantically waving a document in everyone’s faces from January 1953, and using it as evidence that the two men must have known each other and even worked together in some capacity.  

So…THEN what, right?

Right. This blog post is all about what happened to Doc and Jolly AFTER the January 14th memo. Admittedly, it mostly has to do with Jolly, but, based on events that came to pass in his career, we can deduce how Doc was affected as well. 

But first, let’s have a little recap.

Our running theory 

In September 1952, the CIA was rounding up experts to conduct research for Project Artichoke. One of the locations at the top of their list was an Air Force Base—Lackland AFB, to be exact, in San Antonio. The reason they were drawn to Lackland was likely two-fold. First, it was where all incoming basic trainees were psychiatrically screened and where “questionable” Air Force officer candidates and pre-flight cadets were more fully evaluated psychiatrically. That’s a lot of baseline data concerning what was going on inside pretty much every airman’s head. 

Second, the new chief of the Psychiatric Service had arrived at Lackland AFB in July 1952—Jolly West. He had just completed his residency at the Payne Whitney Clinic in New York City, which was part of Cornell University Medical College. As it so happens, people in the Payne Whitney Clinic were friends with people in the CIA. Harold G. Wolff, an expert on headache and psychosomatic illness, was one of those people. He would go on to head the Human Ecology Fund, which funded MKULTRA-focused research, and to coauthor a 1956 comprehensive report on communist interrogation and indoctrination methods—aka brainwashing. Jolly, having developed strong skills in hypnosis while at Payne Whitney, was now in charge of the entire psychiatric division at Lackland’s 3700th USAF Hospital. If that’s not a perfect fit for Project Artichoke, I don’t know what is.

At roughly the same time in which the CIA was scrutinizing Jolly West, someone else’s name had made a little ping on their radar. That person was Miami University psychology professor Doc Switzer, who was brought to their attention by way of a memo written on March 25, 1952. Chief among Doc’s selling points were his having worked under noted psychologist and hypnosis expert Clark Hull and for his being a pharmacist before becoming a psychology professor. By September, however, the CIA was having their doubts about someone—Doc, I believe—and, despite his Artichoke-friendly credentials, they didn’t think he had much to contribute toward the research they desired. 

As it turns out, Doc could be useful in a different way. Doc was well-connected in the Air Force, whose surgeon general would have to approve whether Lackland could be a site for CIA-funded Artichoke research. Not only had Doc made a name for himself during WWII, but he was on the rolls of the Air Force Reserves, and, most recently, during the summer of 1951, he’d served in a prestigious post at the Air Research and Development Command (ARDC) in Baltimore.  

On September 23, 1952, a CIA rep had spoken with a colonel in the Air Force’s Office of the Surgeon General, and the colonel had said that the person whom the CIA was uncertain about—the person I believe to be Doc Switzer—would be “essential” to be “cut into the picture” because they thought very highly of him. Four months later, on January 14, 1953, Jolly (I’m 100% sure) and Doc (I strongly believe) are named in a memo with regards to the creation of a “well-balanced interrogation research center.”

Jolly West; Credit: Oklahoma Department of Public Welfare; Fair use.

The hot shot and his rival 

The winter of 1953 turned into the spring of 1953, with all of its happy trappings:  

the flowers were blooming… 

the birds were singing…

 the bees were buzzing… 

…and, on April 13… 

…the director of the CIA was signing a memo establishing MKULTRA, an amped-up version of Project Artichoke. 

(Due to a lack of time, we’ll forgo discussing how, six days later, a certain student from Miami University who had Doc Switzer for his psychology professor seemingly vanished from the face of the earth. We can discuss that little coinkidink another day.)

Our story picks up two months later, in the summer of 1953, when Jolly West and Sidney Gottlieb, who oversaw the CIA’s MKULTRA program, are discussing the to-be-implemented operation at Lackland AFB. Jolly couldn’t have been more gung-ho. On June 11, a 28-year-old West wrote to a 34-year-old Gottlieb a detailed letter about his short-term and long-term goals with regards to the hypnotizing of human subjects—a resource he ostensibly had an endless supply of—as part of his new project for the CIA. Among those readily available subjects were basic airmen, whom he could summon by simply telling the folks in HR to: “Send us 10 high I.Q. airmen at 0900 tomorrow,” he bragged. Other potential subjects would include volunteers who worked on the base, hospital patients, and a miscellaneous category of “others,” including prisoners in the local stockade and returning POWs.

He had the subjects. He had the know-how. He had the drive. He had the space—though he’d need to purchase some suitable new equipment. He could hire the necessary staff. 

But there was a problem, Jolly informed Sidney. The problem’s name was Robert Williams, who, by the way, should not be confused with Robert J. Williams, who oversaw Project Artichoke in the CIA’s Office of Scientific Intelligence before it was reassigned to Inspection and Security. Nope, this guy was Robert L. Williams, who was chief of Neurology at Lackland AFB. Jolly informed Sidney that, after Williams had received his certification by the American Board of Neurology and Psychiatry—with coaching from Jolly in preparation for the psychiatry portion of the exam, he pointed out—Williams started eyeing Jolly’s territory. Williams persuaded Colonel Robert S. Brua, commander of Lackland’s 3700th Medical Group, to combine the two divisions into one and to put Williams on top. 

As you can imagine, Jolly was fuming over this power grab. Here was someone Jolly described as being “several years my senior professionally although his experience in psychiatry is considerably less than mine” getting in the way of Jolly doing whatever he wanted. He’d be a giant roadblock to the hypnosis research the two men were discussing, Jolly contended. 

“This is a most unhappy turn of events from the point of view of our experiments,” he lamented. 

“Dr. Williams is extremely acquisitive and will be an uncomfortably close scrutinizer of my activities,” he said. “The fact that I am still Chief of Psychiatry doesn’t alter the fact that it is now merely a section in this new Service, and that many of my administrative and even professional decisions can be hamstrung.”

He later added: “And, most unfortunately, he is one of those conservative traditionalists who actively opposes research or treatment involving hypnosis, states that it is ‘tampering with the soul,’ and spoken out against some of my previous work; he will undoubtedly hamper my efforts in many ways.” 

Jolly had some suggestions on how to fix this unlivable situation. Going back to the old organizational structure was one possibility. Transferring Williams the heck out of San Antonio to some other base was another one. Or, geez, maybe Jolly should, you know…leave. That last option wasn’t very realistic though. Because the Air Force had foot the bill for Jolly’s medical training, he was obligated to serve there until June 1956. For him to even entertain the possibility of leaving in July of 1953 was indicative of…what…his immaturity? His arrogance? His bullheadedness? Take your pick—I can’t decide.

“The ultimate solution to the repeated occurrence of this type of situational crisis is, of course, a return to civilian status. If I were back on the staff at Cornell Medical Center where my previous research was done, there would be no problem. I could receive some funds from you disguised as a U.S. Public Health Service grant, or some such thing, gon [sic] onto a half-time research basis, and plub [sic?] away at the problem with considerable independence. This future eventuality we’ll have to discuss at a later date; meanwhile, we have the local problem to solve. If someone in the Surgeon General’s office, or the Surgeon General himself, were in on this whole complicated situation, it might make the solutions a little easier.” 

Um, I’m sorry, but has this 28-year-old never had a boss before? I mean, sure, it’s a drag that his division got usurped and all, but who among us hasn’t had something like that happen at our jobs without our feeling the need to run to our boss’s boss’s boss in hopes that they’ll fix it? Plus, some might say that Jolly could have used a little more supervision at that time, don’tya think? (Did I mention he was 28?)**

**Dear 28-year-olds: I have nothing against you. If you happen to be in this age group, that’s fantastic. It’s a super fun age to be. It’s just that, occasionally, people in your age bracket have been known to think they have all the answers when in fact they really don’t. (Not you. Other people.)

Listen to the Traveling Wilburys. They’ll tell you what I mean.

Sidney Gottlieb was undeterred by the likes of Robert L. Williams. He asked Jolly for the names and contact information of Lackland’s top brass, which were Col. Brua, Col. Cowles (who oversaw the Human Resources Research Center), and Brigadier General Steele (who commanded the entire base). Although Sidney wasn’t willing to give these men all the goods on MKULTRA just yet, he would explore obtaining Top Secret clearance for each one, just in case. He also would contact Donald Hastings, a psychiatrist at the University of Minnesota who was to collaborate with Jolly on the project. Hastings had been chief of psychiatry for the Army Air Forces during WWII, so he was much more seasoned in dealing with military brass. If anyone could arm wrestle them into acquiescence, he could probably do it without their having to bother the surgeon general over trivial workplace politics. 

Sidney closed his letter with “I feel that we have gained quite an asset in the relationship we are developing with you. We will work this thing out one way or another. It is of the greatest importance to do so.”

Less than a year later, Jolly wanted out of Lackland. Maybe he’d predicted correctly, and Robert L. Williams had rained all over Jolly’s MKULTRA plans. Or maybe it was plain old bureaucratic red tape. The laboratory where he needed to conduct his research still hadn’t been built. No matter the reason, at some point along the way, Jolly decided to look elsewhere for a job. As far as his obligation to the Air Force was concerned, he’d have to cross that bridge when he came to it.

In April 1954, he arrived at the bridge. He’d been offered the position of professor and head of the Department of Psychiatry, Neurology, and Behavioral Sciences at the University of Oklahoma, and he would now need to seek approval from the Office of the Surgeon General before he could accept the position. Of course, he’d have to do so strategically and with finesse, since he had no intention of taking no for an answer.

University officials did what they could to get the Air Force to relinquish Jolly. The dean of the medical school promised to build Jolly the laboratory he needed to conduct his “special research assignment” for the CIA and USAF, including technical assistance and equipment. The laboratory was to be called the Air Force Psychosomatic Laboratory, likely as camouflage. Best of all, he would be able to conduct his research as he saw fit, with no questions asked. Still, months went by as Jolly tried to convince the assorted colonels and generals that the Air Force would be better off with him in Oklahoma than in Texas. He proposed transferring to Tinker Air Force Base, in Oklahoma City, where he could split his time between the university and military base, but the Air Force said no. Practically speaking, there was no need for a psychiatrist of his stature there. 

Despite the string of disapprovals, the Office of the Surgeon General began coming around to see things Jolly’s way. In August 1954, they offered a compromise in which Jolly would be granted 60 days of unpaid leave per year over and above any accrued leave he had, all of which he could use to work for the university. On September 26, 1954, the university announced that Jolly West would be joining their faculty. 

After all was said and done, Brigadier General H.H. Twitchell, in the Office of the Surgeon General, let Jolly know what had gone on behind the scenes that brought about the Air Force’s change of heart.

“It seemed ill advised to establish the Air Force Psychosomatic Laboratory either at Lackland or an Air Force base in Oklahoma only to have to abandon the project upon your release from the service 20 months from now. Therefore, General Powell, Major Hughes, Major Kollar, and myself conferred to discuss the best way to get your special research project underway on a continuing basis. It was decided that the Air Force Medical Service should withdraw from the project as it now stands leaving you and Major Hughes free to organize the program within your department at the University on a contract basis with the Agency that Major Hughes represents. Major Hughes indicated that other than the slight delay involved in establishing your program at the University of Oklahoma this will not seriously interfere with the conduct of the research since the acceptance of your professorship was predicated upon the unquestioned full support of this project. Major Hughes also indicated that he would discuss the details of this matter with you in the near future.”

Hmmm. Major Hughes sure sounds as if he had a lot of sway in the matter, doesn’t he? But who was he? Brigadier General Twitchell and General Powell both worked in the Office of the Surgeon General. Major Kollar worked at Lackland AFB. But this was the first I’d ever heard of Major Hughes. 

My guess? I think Major Hughes was our friend Sidney Gottlieb. Here’s why:

  • Sidney liked to use pseudonyms. In his July 2, 1953, letter to Jolly West, he signed his name Sherman C. Grifford, a pretend person who was affiliated with the pretend organization Chemrophyl Associates. In a meeting with the military men, I can see him taking on a more suitable pseudonym for the occasion—something with a rank that was respectable, but not too high—and a last name that was a little more forgettable than Gottlieb. 
  • Major Hughes was representing an Agency—with a capital A. General Twitchell was being cautious with his wording, but there’s no question that he was referring to the CIA.
  • Major Hughes seemed to be closely tied to Jolly’s research project. In fact, the way General Twitchell described it, Major Hughes and Jolly would be working together to organize the program in Jolly’s new department.
  • The person from the CIA with whom Jolly was working most closely on this project since June 1953 was Sidney Gottlieb.
Credit: CIA; Was Sidney Gottlieb Major Hughes?

In December 1954, Jolly wrote to a friend telling him that he’d started at Oklahoma, and by January 1955, he’d submitted a proposal to the Geschickter Foundation (another CIA front organization) for MKULTRA funding. By March 1955, he’d received approval for a $20,000 grant to begin his infamous work which came to be known as Subproject 43.

That pretty much sums things up, except there may be a little more to the story. In an article for the investigative site The Intercept, authors Tom O’Neill and Dan Piepenbring brought to light a gut-wrenching story in which Jolly West played a critical role. It concerns a murder that took place near Lackland Air Force Base at around midnight July 4, 1954. The victim was a three-year-old girl named Chere Jo Horton who’d been playing in the parking lot of a tavern while her parents and brother were inside. (Helicopter parenting was definitely not a thing in the ‘50s.) A search went on, and, tragically, her lifeless body was found in the nearby gravel pit.

The man who was charged with the murder, Jimmy Shaver, had come walking up from the gravel pit before her body had been discovered, almost as if he was in a trance. His body was bloody and scratched from brambles. Chere Jo’s underwear were dangling from his car door. An Associated Press story that ran the following day said that Shaver had written in a statement that he remembered putting her in his car and driving away. His last memory was of removing her from the car, and “then I blacked out.” Shaver was employed at Lackland AFB as a drill instructor. Up until that moment, he’d been a law-abiding citizen.

According to the Waco Times-Herald, Jolly testified at Shaver’s trial that Shaver was “given over to his care two months after the crime.” During that period, Jolly had given Shaver sodium amytal which, according to the paper, “put Shaver into an hypnotic trance.” A United Press wire service story said that West had examined Shaver “under hypnosis and truth serum.”

Jolly stated to the court that Shaver had been ridiculed and abused as a child by a little girl, and when he saw Chere Jo, Shaver was mentally transported back to his childhood. He killed her—a voice in his head had told him to do it—but he thought he was killing the abusive girl, Jolly told the court. Shaver was “insane” at the time of the killing and “did not know right from wrong,” the paper quoted him as saying. 

Jimmy Shaver died from the electric chair on July 25, 1958. 

It’s a horrible, tragic story that I’ve avoided writing about for a while. Here’s why I want to discuss it now: First, this was all happening while Jolly was trying to leave Lackland AFB. At the time of Chere Jo’s murder, Jolly had already been offered the job, and he was trying to convince the Office of the Surgeon General that he’d be of more use to them in Oklahoma than in Texas. In September, during Shaver’s trial, Jolly’s name, along with the name of Lackland Air Force Base, was being splashed on newspapers across Texas, and beyond. It was precisely at this time when the Office of the Surgeon General gave the green light for Jolly to conduct his research elsewhere.

Could it be that the surgeon general decided to make the Jolly West P.R. problem go away by approving his early move to Oklahoma? They’d allow him to continue with his experiments, but just not on their turf.  

The reason I pose this question is that in Tom O’Neill’s and Dan Piepenbring’s piece, they raise the question of whether Jolly West may have actually been conducting hypnotic experiments on Shaver before the murder and perhaps even introduced false memories during his hypnosis sessions after the murder. You can read the story and see the evidence for yourself.

I’d like to focus on one detail. Jolly had said under oath that Jimmy Shaver was “given over to his care two months after the crime.” But in O’Neill’s and Piepenbring’s piece, O’Neill had actually spoken with another psychiatrist at Lackland, a man named Gilbert Rose, who’d taken part in the sessions with Jolly West and Shaver.

In 2002, he said the following:

“[Rose had] also never known how West had found out about the case right away. ‘We were involved from the first day,’ Rose recalled. ‘Jolly phoned me the morning of the murder. He initiated it.’”

If what Rose said is true, then Jolly had committed perjury when he told the court of his later involvement. Why would he say that if he didn’t have something to hide? And again, were any of the Air Force officials knowledgeable? 

There’s one last person we need to discuss, and that person is Doc Switzer. Where does Doc factor into all of this?

In our running theory, Doc was considered “essential” by the Office of the Surgeon General in September 1952. At that time, the surgeon general was Harry G. Armstrong. However, when Jolly West received the OK to move to Oklahoma in 1954, the surgeon general was Dan C. Ogle. And once West was doing his work at the University of Oklahoma, the Office of the Surgeon General had purposely written themselves out of the equation. 

I have no idea what Surgeon General Harry Armstrong wanted from Doc Switzer. Perhaps he helped keep him up to speed on things. But by the time Jolly West moved his laboratory to the University of Oklahoma, there would have been no need for his services, at least in that regard. 

To look at it another way, could it be that the perfect window of time when Doc Switzer was considered “essential” to Project Artichoke happened to coincide with the time that Ronald Tammen disappeared from Miami University?

Why I think the USAF Surgeon General’s Office wanted St. Clair Switzer to be their liaison to Project Artichoke

In the spring of 1951, St. Clair Switzer was in a predicament. The war was on in Korea, and he’d been ordered to report to Maxwell Air Force Base, in Montgomery, Alabama, for a four-day processing period to determine his eligibility for active duty as an instructor at Air University. Making matters worse, he’d received his orders at around noon on April 14, a Saturday, and he was expected to show up at Maxwell by 2 p.m. on Monday, April 16, which isn’t a whole lot of notice. Although he may have managed to make the trip to Alabama for the required four days, there wasn’t enough time for him to obtain a written statement from Miami officials as to whether they approved his release for active duty or if they would request a delay. On April 21, Ernest Hahne, Miami University’s president, wrote a letter to George C. Kenney, commanding general of Air University, scolding him for the ridiculously tight turnaround, and letting him know how important Dr. Switzer was at Miami, what with his teaching and advising responsibilities and all. 

“It is our urgent request that Professor Switzer be released from this call to duty at this time,” Hahne wrote.

Hahne’s letter worked. Switzer didn’t become an instructor at Air University in 1951.

Nevertheless, the Air Force didn’t put Switzer’s name at the bottom of the pile either. In June of that same year, Major H.G. Rollins, chief of the Military Training Branch at the Air Research and Development Command (ARDC) in Baltimore, Md., had reached out to Switzer, seeking assistance. Rollins had been placed in charge of a high-level project that involved the recruitment of scientific personnel, and a friend of Switzer’s from his WWII glory days had volunteered his name as someone who could potentially help in that cause. As usual, Doc Switzer was ready and willing to hightail it out of Oxford. (Truth be told, I think he’d have been happy to relocate to Alabama too if President Hahne hadn’t interceded.) Doc submitted his lengthy application one day after receiving the form, and by August 6, 1951, he was on the government’s payroll, working in the Sun Building at 5 West Baltimore Street. 

I’m sure he loved it. Who among us doesn’t adore that gritty city with its glittery Inner Harbor, its memorial to master poet and writer of scary stories Edgar Allan Poe, and its crab cakes? (My God, the crab cakes.) As for his living arrangements, he was staying in room 1022 of the iconic Emerson Hotel. Niiiiice, Doc.

According to records I’ve obtained, Switzer worked for the ARDC from August 6 through the pay period ending September 22, 1951, and he was paid $35 per day. That may not sound like much, but during that month and a half period, Switzer earned a gross income of $910, which translates to roughly $10,679 in today’s dollars. That’s pretty good in this girl’s opinion, especially when you factor in the prestigiousness of the position.

Because, make no mistake, working for the ARDC was pretty huge. It was officially established in April 1951 to oversee all research and development for the Air Force.

I probably need to say that last part once more with the caps lock turned on: the ARDC oversaw ALL RESEARCH AND DEVELOPMENT FOR THE AIR FORCE.  

As in all of it.  

As in every last bit.  

Although its initial home was Wright Patterson Air Force Base, near Dayton, Ohio—a place I’ve mentioned before on this blogsite—in June 1951, an “advanced echelon” was moved to Baltimore and “charged with recruiting additional scientific personnel,” according to that month’s Air Corps Newsletter.

Click on image for a closer view.

So if the ARDC was started in April of 1951 and an advanced echelon of the ARDC had moved to Baltimore in June of 1951, then St. Clair Switzer, who’d been approached by Major Rollins also in June of 1951, was getting in on the ground floor. As far as Switzer’s role in the operation goes, he submitted the following blurb to a Miss Marshall for publication in the autumn 1951 issue of Benton Bulletin, a newsletter that was ostensibly written for university administrators occupying Miami’s Benton Hall:

“Prof. S.A. Switzer spent August and the first part of September as a civilian consultant with the headquarters of the Air Research & Development Command in Baltimore. Dr. Switzer assisted in formulating the long-range training program for Reserve officer scientists who have research and development assignments in the Air Force.”

Doc went on to tell Miss Marshall that “I am enjoying this work very much, and I believe that I am being much more useful to the Air Force in this assignment than I would have been in the one for which they planned to call me to active duty last June.” 

He’s probably referring to the Air University gig in that last comment. Sadly, nowhere in his four-page letter does he mention the crab cakes.

So, in sum, the ARDC was very big and very important and, consequently, it would have had the attention of big and important people within the Air Force.

With all of this in mind, let’s now direct our attention to a CIA memo that had been written on September 23, 1952.

Click on image for a closer view.

The memo was written almost a year to the day after St. Clair Switzer had ostensibly stopped working for the ARDC. I say “ostensibly” because there were signs that he had some sort of ongoing working relationship with them. On January 2, 1952, again, ostensibly after his ARDC stint was over, he’d applied for a Social Security account number and listed the Air Force as his employer. For his employer’s address, he wrote down ARDC’s address on West Baltimore Street. (If you’re wondering why he didn’t already have a Social Security number, he hadn’t needed one before that time. Then as now, Miami University employees were enrolled in a separate public retirement system.) 

St. Clair Switzer’s Social Security application; click on image for a closer view.

The number assigned to Doc Switzer was 216-32-8226, with the “216” prefix designated for Baltimore applicants. Based on the history of how Social Security numbers were assigned in those days, his number tells me that he must have been in Baltimore the day after New Year’s in 1952, when Miami U was still on break, to submit his application. He would’ve had to get back on the road soon, however. Classes were scheduled to start the next day.

So the question of whether he continued working for ARDC every so often—be it remotely, at Wright Patterson AFB perhaps, or through some other arrangement—or if his work ended in September 1951 remains a small mystery.

Back to the memo of September 23, 1952, which is four paragraphs long. I’d now like to dissect this memo, paragraph by paragraph, to see if anything new can be gleaned from it. But first, to help with our dissection, I’ve isolated a couple letters that were typed within that same memo which I think will come in handy in certain places.

Here’s a capital S.

And here’s a lower-case r. 

Let’s go!

Paragraph 1 – The transfer

Click on image for a closer view.

We really don’t care about paragraph 1. When the memo was written, Project Artichoke had been handed over to the Inspection and Security Office by the Office of Scientific Intelligence, and they were busily working through the logistics of that transfer. No big revelations here.

Paragraph 2 – The doctor who had ‘nothing to contribute’

Paragraph 2 focuses on a doctor whose redacted name is mentioned in the first line. The consensus concerning the doctor was that he had “nothing to contribute in the line of research.” Above the noncontributing doctor’s name are the words “U.S. commander,” which is a clue to his identity.   

A “commander” could be someone in the Navy or the Coast Guard as is shown on the below chart.

Click on image for a closer view.

But if you look above those lines on the chart, you’ll see that the rank of commander is the equivalent of a lieutenant colonel in the Army, Marines, or Air Force. Indeed, in military speak, lieutenant colonels are also considered commanders, in that they are put in command of various types of squadrons. The person who wrote the term above the doctor’s crossed-out name could have been referring to a Naval officer, sure, but they also could have been using the term generically. 

We can whittle down the possibilities even further since only the Army, Navy, and Air Force were involved with Project Artichoke. I happen to believe the person with the pen was referring to someone in the Air Force. You’ll see why in the next section. 

Next, if you zoom in on the redacted name of the U.S. commander, a few letters appear to stand out, with some standing out more than others. Do I think the first letter of the first name looks a lot like a capital S? I do, but, admittedly, it’s iffy. Does there appear to be a second capital S beneath the “n/d” in commander? There kinda does, but again, I wouldn’t stake my life on it. We’re going to go the conservative route here and say that it appears that the last letter in his last name is an r. 

Click on image for a closer view.

Finally, as we discussed in a previous post, someone from OTS—the Office of Technical Service, which was run by Sidney Gottlieb—may have visited the doctor/U.S. commander on September 19, 1952, to explore the question of whether he might be able to contribute to Artichoke research. 

To summarize, I believe the 2nd paragraph is telling us that a commander in the U.S. military (which will be narrowed down further in the next paragraph) whose last name ends with an r had been considered for Artichoke research, though the consensus was that he had nothing to contribute. Someone affiliated with Sidney Gottlieb’s group may have explored that question with him during a visit on September 19, 1952. Moving on… 

Paragraph 3 – The colonels 

Click on image for a closer view.

Although there are still areas of uncertainty, I think we can put together a few more pieces to the puzzle that is paragraph 3.

The first thing we notice is that the term Col. is placed in front of a number of names throughout paragraphs 3 and 4, which means we can eliminate the Navy. The Navy doesn’t have colonels. Therefore, the writer is speaking about people from the Army or Air Force. And because we already know from paragraph 3 of the January 14, 1953, memo that a major in the USAF’s medical corps (whom I believe to be Louis J. West) is being considered for a well-balanced interrogation research center in addition to a certain lieutenant colonel (whom I believe to be St. Clair Switzer), I think we can safely conclude that they’re talking about the Air Force in this memo too. So Air Force it is. On this I will stake my life.

If it’s the Air Force we’re talking about (and it is), then the surgeon general who’s referenced in paragraph 3 has to be the Air Force’s surgeon general at that time, Major General Harry G. Armstrong.

Major General Harry George Armstrong

In order to be a surgeon general, you need to have a medical degree, and Major General Armstrong had received his in 1925 from the University of Louisville, Kentucky. He was the second person to serve as surgeon general of the Air Force, succeeding his mentor, General Malcom Grow, in 1949.

In 1939, Armstrong published Principles and Practice of Aviation Medicine, which was groundbreaking at the outset and remained the field’s authoritative text for decades. According to a write-up in the February 2011 issue of Aviation, Space, and Environmental Medicine, his research focused on protecting the body against the dangers of high altitudes, such as extreme temperatures and reduced oxygen levels. After General Grow successfully spearheaded the creation of the Aero Medical Laboratory at Wright Patterson AFB, Armstrong became its first director, overseeing the laboratory from 1934 to 1940. I’m sure when he moved to the Surgeon General’s Office, in Washington, D.C., in 1949, he continued to have a soft spot for his old stomping ground in Dayton, Ohio.

Despite the above accomplishments, Armstrong and Grow were the men whose brains had conjured up Operation Paperclip. As you may recall, Operation Paperclip was the infamous military operation in which Nazis with strong scientific credentials were brought to the United States, many to Wright Patterson AFB, so that the U.S. could benefit from their expertise. Operation Paperclip was also viewed as a defensive move, to prevent the Soviets from getting to those scientists first. The name originates from the sanitized cover sheets that were paperclipped to the Nazis’ papers to help move the process along.  

So…there’s that.

Back to paragraph 3. Let’s skip over the first part, especially the part about the person they were going to go easy on from a security standpoint because he had a “propensity to talk.” I still don’t have an inkling of who that person was, and I can’t understand why someone from the CIA would want to go easy on anyone who had such a propensity.

Instead, let’s focus on the last sentence of paragraph 3. 

Without worrying too much about the owners of the names that have been redacted, let’s first concentrate on what the writer is saying: According to the new Artichoke protocol, OTS (aka the Office of Technical Service, which was led by Sidney Gottlieb) “will be obligated to check with OS” (aka the Office of Security, led by Sheffield Edwards) and OS (the Office of Security) “would automatically check with REDACTED in view of the fact that REDACTED is a consultant of, and of primary interest to the Surgeon General.”

In other words, according to the last sentence of paragraph 3, even though Harry G. Armstrong’s name has never been officially linked to Project Artichoke, certainly not to the degree in which Sidney Gottlieb’s has, he appears to have had veto power over Sidney Gottlieb when it came to the Air Force’s involvement in Project Artichoke. 

So…there’s that too.

And what of the person with whom the Office of Security was supposed to check? That person’s name—likely his surname—began with the letter S. Clearly. There is no other letter that fits. 

Click on image for a closer view.

Paragraph 4—the person who needed to be ‘cut into the picture’

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In 1952, the USAF’s Office of the Surgeon General was composed of the following people:

Click on image for a closer view.

The colonel from that office—the one with whom another colonel had recently spoken—was in all probability Col. Jack Buel, who was in charge of special projects for the Surgeon General’s Office. (The other colonel in the office was an assistant for veterinary service, so it couldn’t have been him.) As it so happens, Jack Buel had earned a Ph.D. in psychology from UC Berkeley in 1935, one year after Switzer had earned his Ph.D. at Yale. Before his time with the Office of the Surgeon General, Buel had published articles on finger mazes and polygraphs. A few of his later publications are listed on the National Library of Medicine’s biomedical research website known as PubMed.

I believe that it was Col. Buel who advised the other colonel whose name is redacted that “he thinks very highly of REDACTED and that it will be essential to keep him cut into the picture.” As I’ve stated in a previous post, I think that Doc Switzer is the person that the Surgeon General’s Office thought very highly of and whose involvement they wished to retain. But I was having a tough time figuring out how they would have known him. As you may recall, I thought perhaps Switzer had conducted behind-the-scenes book research for the Air Force or CIA since he lived so close to the Armed Services Technical Information Agency, in downtown Dayton. Who knows, maybe he still did that. I also thought the word “research” above the person’s redacted name was how they wished for him to be used in the Artichoke project—to do book research for them perhaps.

I guess what bothered me about that theory was the illegible word in front of the word “research” above the redacted name. It appeared to be a short word of three letters. The letters are light and slanty and difficult to decipher. 

But after spending some time zooming in on those letters very closely, I now believe I know what’s written there. Air. As in Air Research.

Where have we seen that phrase before?  

OK, so let’s put together everything we’ve learned to see if we can make sense of things:  

A doctor—maybe an M.D., maybe a Ph.D.—who was also a lieutenant colonel in the Air Force and whose last name ended with an r had been considered by the CIA for possible Artichoke research. However, the consensus was that they didn’t feel he could contribute.

On another front, according to a new protocol, a person whose name starts with the letter S was to be the USAF surgeon general’s point person for Project Artichoke. The CIA’s Office of Technical Service would first check with the Office of Security, which, in turn, would approach the surgeon general’s point person, a Mr.—or Dr.—S for his input and approval. 

Finally, an official in the Office of the Surgeon General whom I believe to be Jack Buel made it clear to a fellow colonel that someone that the CIA was on the fence about—quite feasibly the doctor/lieutenant colonel from paragraph 2—was essential to the program. And the reason was because Buel (and, by extension, Harry G. Armstrong) thought highly of this person, who had experience in “air research.”  

And what do we know about air research? We know that if a person had experience with air research, then they likely had connections to the ARDC, since the ARDC oversaw all research and development for the Air Force. 

Final thoughts

There are still plenty of details we can’t be sure about. We don’t know if the doctor/lieutenant colonel whose name ends in r is the same guy as the surgeon general’s point person whose name starts with S.

We don’t even know if the surgeon general’s point person whose name starts with S is the same person as the consultant who was of “primary interest to the Surgeon General.”

With that being said, I think it’s likely that the doctor/lieutenant colonel (whose name ends in r) was the person that the CIA was considering cutting out of the picture, and therefore, the person that Jack Buel stood up for. For that reason, I think the doctor/lieutenant colonel was the same person who had work experience with the ARDC. 

Was this person St. Clair Switzer? If it was, then Doc Switzer had the ear of the USAF Surgeon General’s Office, and they had requested him as their liaison to Project Artichoke.

I can’t imagine him saying no, can you?

In recognition of the upcoming July 4th holiday and the 57th anniversary of FOIA, I give you the Psychological Strategy Board report from Sept. 5, 1952

DC’s Union Station all decked out for July 4th; photo by Caleb Fisher on Unsplash

If you haven’t seen my announcement on Facebook, you may be bummed to learn of my recent discovery that the September 5, 1952, report for the Psychological Strategy Board (PSB) was not, I repeat was not written by St. Clair Switzer. Instead, it was written by a psychiatrist by the name of Henry P. Laughlin, M.D. Dr. Laughlin was also a professor of psychiatry at George Washington University, which is located in the Foggy Bottom section of DC, near the State Department, the National Academies. and as luck would have it, the CIA’s former location at 2430 E Street, NW. People in the CIA were hot hot hot for the Sept. 5., 1952, PSB report. If asked, they would loan their copy out, but they would also make sure that it was returned to them asap. It was that much in demand.

So Doc Switzer didn’t write it, as I’d originally thought.

It’s fine. I’ve moved on.

In honor of the Freedom of Information Act’s 57th birthday, which is this coming Tuesday, I’m posting the report in its entirety here. Unfortunately, the bibliographies mentioned in the Table of Contents aren’t included with the report that I received. But that’s OK. The 110 pages that we do have has cost me the equivalent of a day pass to Disneyland in scanning fees, which is as much as I care to spend at present. Plus, although I’d love to see the bibliographies, if they still exist, I’m not sure we would have learned that much more.

My reasoning is that, for a while, I’d wondered if perhaps Doc Switzer might have at least helped in compiling the bibliographies. I thought this because he was so close to Dayton, Ohio, where, at that time, every technical study funded by the U.S. Department of Defense (DoD) was being filed at the Armed Services Technical Information Agency (ASTIA). If we saw any mention of a military study in the bibliography, then it would have been safe to presume that ASTIA would have been the source, and, by extension, Switzer the likely researcher. But, from what I can tell, it doesn’t appear that Switzer assisted with this report in any way. Otherwise, I think Dr. Laughlin would have thanked him for his help. He seems as if he was that kind of guy. Mind you, I still believe that Doc Switzer likely helped with report writing for Project Artichoke—just not this report. I’ve been doing some additional digging in this regard, and plan to discuss this topic with you in the future, once my bruised ego has fully healed.

One bonus is a second report that has been tacked on at the end of this report, titled “Brain-Washing: A Supplemental Report.”

I should add that I’m posting this even before I’ve had a chance to read it. So far, I’ve only done an initial skimming. If you find something interesting, let us know. Enjoy, and have a happy fourth!