Unabomber

by Dave Shors

  If in a hurry, he also used a quick-and-dirty rating system with two letters maximum.

  It read as follows:

  S—Slightly Queer

  R—Moderately Queer

  Q—Very Queer

  QQ—Super Queer

  Other notations used in the documents addressed the disposability of items:

  B—Burnable

  NB—Not Burnable

  There was another classification system devised to help him quickly decide how to deal with all his jars, containers, documents, maps, drawings and journals.

  Class #1, Hide carefully, far from home

  Class #2, Hide carefully, far from home, but can be destroyed at a pinch

  Class #3, Hide carefully, far from home, but can be burned at a pinch

  Class #4, Burn away from home

  Class #5, Burn in a stove, eventually

  Class #6, Burn with glass jars

  Class #7, Destroy with glass jars

  Class #8, Treat to make safe

  Class #9, Burn in stove, then dispose of remains

  Class #10, Dump in trash far from home

  Ted’s systems and classification codes seemed to cover every conceivable possibility: how to treat postage stamps, what to do with refuse, how to dispose of a container of chemicals, the sensitivity of a particular document or complete notebook, where to hide or stash a document or writing, and finally how to burn or dispose of “Top Queer” items quickly.

  FROM FBI INVENTORY OF ITEMS SEIZED AT KACZYNSKI HOME CABIN

  L-31—Two rolls of brown paper marked “3QQ,” can containing wire marked “QQ” and documents…

  L-32—Box marked “All 1 or 10 Q or QQ” (Handwritten), metal tubes, wiring, springs, ball trigger in tin foil, stapler, 9V battery, and small copper color tubing….

  L-33—Books with “5Q” on container…

  L-52—Five bottles labeled “SaltPeter” and plastic bag “3Q”

  Despite this all-encompassing system, Ted occasionally found it wasn’t enough, so he also wrote special instructions for certain journal sections.

  FROM JOURNAL OF VANDALISM, THEFTS, AND OTHER CRIMES

  Here I am going to confess to—or, to be more accurate, brag about—some misdeeds I have committed in the last few years.

  He ended this multi-page section of confessions (which are quoted throughout the present book) with this entry:

  By the way, my motive for keeping these notes separate from the others is the obvious one. Some of my other notes contain hints of crime, but no actual accounts of felonies. But these notes must be very carefully kept from everyone’s eyes. Kept separate from the other notes they make a small, compact packet, easily concealed.

  Just as he switched between English words and Spanish, in his numerical code certain words and non-sensitive phrases were written in English, then he would revert to the sophisticated numerical code for the rest of the text.

  It was a marvel, the great effort and thought that had gone into all his codes, classifications, methods, and categories set up to conceal, and yet at the same time protect, his legacy. Ted explained in his journals that the reason he kept such meticulous notes was to prove that his acts were planned and were not random acts committed by a crazy person, or as he labeled it, a “sickie.”

  Yet he was writing his own detailed exposé about a secret world that he also tried so diligently to conceal. There was a conflict raging inside his mind, pitting Ted the master criminal, who was making every effort to deceive, and Ted the scientist and historian, who wanted to archive his work so that at some point the world could marvel at his ingenuity and see him as a jungle fighter in a war against the modern world.

  As if all this wasn’t enough—the codes, Spanish, Queer Ratings—Ted also had a “No Queer” rating for benign information.

  It was nothing more than a non-rating, and it helped complete the classification of almost every aspect of his life.

  His system did have one practical application; it enabled him to quickly find a sensitive page or group of pages, containing embarrassing or incriminating information. Once the FBI understood his system, it was a time-saver for investigators. Coupled with the fact Ted conveniently had placed the key to his numerical code within the walls of his home cabin, his organizational skills were greatly valued by the FBI.

  FBI agents admitted his numerical code was sophisticated and would have been difficult to crack, requiring a great deal of time and resources.

  Time was critical, but resources didn’t seem to be a problem. At one point certain agents in Lincoln said money was no object. I was told that, in all, upwards of $70 million was spent on the Unabomber case, not including final court costs.

  Monday, December 22 arrived, and even though it was almost Christmas, the weather was incredibly mild. It just didn’t seem like the holidays. I was still building outside, making a final effort to enclose our garage for the winter.

  I walked out to the mail box and found a Christmas card containing notes from both Dave and his wife, Sue. It was a nice gesture, and made me feel good.

  In Sacramento, jury selection had been completed and Ted’s trial was slated to begin before the New Year. That seemed unlikely, though. Ted and his defense team were determined to delay the trial and would probably file some sort of motion or plot another tactic to compel Judge Garland Burrell to postpone opening arguments until after the holidays.

  The upcoming trial promised to be fascinating for technocrats around the world and feature never-before-seen methods. I had learned all the exhibits, documents, interviews, supporting evidence, etc. had been recorded on CD ROMs, a first in U.S. criminal trial history. Kodak, I learned, was working with the prosecution on the technical details and how the evidence would be presented.

  This technological advance was to be initiated in the trial of a man who epitomized anti-technology.

  Dave told me Ted had been held in the Bay Area’s Dublin Federal Correctional Institution from September 3 to November 6, then he was moved to his Sacramento County jail cell near the federal building. Dublin was a high-security, low-profile women’s prison where Ted was housed to answer his complaints about noise in the Sacramento jail, but mainly to avoid excessive media attention.

  From everything Dave had told me, Ted had apparently adapted remarkably well to prison so far, and if convicted and sentenced to life, incarceration would mirror his reclusive mountain ways—quiet, contemplative, a place where he could write extensively and communicate with himself through those writings. His punishment would be not roaming in the wilds.

  At the time of his arrest Ted was still plotting more acts of terrorism, despite the vow in 1995 to stop if the manifesto was published.

  It was hard not to think about the people who were on the “hit list” found among his papers in the home cabin. By fate’s hand they were now spending Christmas with their families.

  The list consisted of a cross-section of people with diverse occupations, but all were employed in technology-related fields. For instance, the list included people working for Pegasus Gold, which operated mines in Montana; Potlatch, a large wood-products manufacturer; and a helicopter-charter business. Along with the list were maps of the cities where these targets lived, with their neighborhoods marked.

  Everything found in his home cabin, my gulch and the secret cabin clearly pointed to a life of continued violence. Also, he seemed prepared for nearly every conceivable situation, except his arrest, which truly caught him off guard. Because of the surprise, he wasn’t able to carry out his plan to destroy the plethora of evidence in his cabin with an incendiary device and then escape.

  All the carefully documented schemes proved useless once he was handcuffed. He didn’t have a clue as he walked out his door when lawmen pretended to need his help interpreting a map that it would prove to be the last time he would ever step out of his cabin.

  He moved too far from the cabin door that April day in 1996, while his .25 caliber Raven automatic sat just inch
es away behind the door. If he had just reached inside, he could have grabbed the gun and held law enforcement officials at bay.

  A completed device lay under his bed. It lacked an address and name, but seemed to be earmarked for an airliner or an airline-affiliated person. Written on the wrapping was a misleading note that inside was a “Newell Channel Reamer,” a tool commonly used by aviation mechanics.

  Was Ted planning another sabotage attempt on an airliner, like the one in 1979—where not one, but hundreds of lives could be taken at once? Who knows? But one thing is certain, he wouldn’t have labeled the package as containing an airline related tool if he were planning to send it to a microbiologist. Maybe his threat to blow up a plane at the Los Angeles airport by July 4, 1995, wasn’t as much a hoax as he claimed.

  Ted was extremely careful about formulating precise plans to make “hits” on people who represented technological industries he hated. One of his plans explained how to murder an oil executive.

  Kaczynski’s typewritten letter to the FBI that followed the 1995 Los Angeles airport incident.

  UNDATED JOURNAL ENTRY

  How to hit an Exxon exec:

  Send book-like package preceded by a letter saying I am sending him a book I’ve written on oil-related environmental concerns attacking environmental position—and I’d like to have his comments on it before preparing a final version of manuscript. Also put in the letter a disclaimer stating that the book represents my own personal views and not those of the company I work for. This gives a touch of realism and it also explains why the letter is not on the company’s [letterhead?].

  Ted had spent plenty of time working on every detail of his plots. Now, incarcerated, he had nothing but time on his hands. After his arrest, one project was to create a chart that showed the mathematical probability of his being found guilty.

  But in some ways Ted was prepared even for being arrested. He had acquired a copy of a publication on civil liberties and civil rights with precise instructions detailing the rights of an accused prisoner.

  Ted knew every right, and followed to the letter every trick, that the booklet spelled out—right through all the pretrial actions.

  His manipulation of the court system eventually tested the patience of Judge Burrell, who after the plea agreement would accuse Ted of “trickery” to preserve his life; grandstanding “antics” to delay and disrupt the trial proceedings; “contriving conflicts” to affect the process; and staging an “alleged suicide attempt that was merely one attempt among many rational and ongoing attempts to delay the trial he dreaded.”

  The judge also described Ted’s “conflicts” with his attorneys as “purposeful attempts to delay” and cause chaos in the courtroom.

  As Dave once put it, Ted was running his lawyers, not the other way around, and he was upset when he discovered they were planning an insanity defense.

  His defense teams reluctantly went along with everything, but what else could they do?

  Christmas seemed to come and go in a flash and I hoped the trial would as well. I knew better, though. Dave had told me the state of New Jersey would become the site of a second trial. He said a federal magistrate had ordered this trial and also told the prosecution to be prepared for it in no more than seventy days, which allowed little time to get ready for such a complicated case.

  A second trial would have its advantages for the prosecution: in the event of a hung jury or a mistrial, there would be another chance to obtain a conviction.

  On Monday, December 29, Dave called and left a message saying he had something important to tell me and would call again. I missed his call the next day and then decided to work near the phone until he called again. The next day, Dave reached me.

  His important news disturbed me deeply. He said he was leaving the Unabom Task Force, and transferring to a job as a firearms and weapons instructor at a military base near San Diego. Dave seemed sad to leave, but excited about the prospects of his new job. He’d miss coming back to Lincoln on the case but would return for a vacation later with his wife.

  Dave would work on Ted’s case until the trial was over, but I knew we wouldn’t be able to stay in touch as we had in the past.

  I asked Dave what his boss, Joel Moss, thought about his transfer. Joel seemed upset, Dave said, and asked why he was leaving and what they should or could have done differently to keep him.

  Dave’s answer surprised me. He told Joel there were numerous things they should have handled differently. He was tired that every word and idea he uttered had fallen on deaf ears, and still believed that he should have been allowed to remain in Lincoln the past July to explore my gulch with me.

  He also told Joel the shroud of secrecy imposed the first summer (1996) served no purpose, as I could have helped them greatly. Working together we could have wrapped up all the details before the pressure was on. He then said he had gone to the trouble of building a relationship with me, which they cut off. Yet the leaks they were so concerned about came from within their own organization.

  I mentioned I had decided to do a short interview with NBC to clarify a few details about Ted, but the interview contained no sensitive information. He promised to watch for it.

  Dave said he would call me again the following week, and we both agreed it was nice to get a few things off our chests.

  The first Monday of 1998 dawned. Opening statements in the Kaczynski trial were scheduled to begin that morning. But shortly into the session Judge Burrell called both sides and the court reporter into his chambers and they didn’t return until after 12:30 P.M. The jurors were sent home.

  That afternoon I called Dave, to find out what had happened in the courtroom. He said Ted had wanted to address the jury, then was allowed to approach the bench and to speak to the judge privately. The on-the-record meeting lasted for four and a half hours. Ted told Judge Burrell he wanted to fire his lawyers because he didn’t approve of the insanity defense they planned.

  It was an interesting but not surprising development, considering how Ted had written of his extreme concern about the public perception of himself and his ideas. After all, if his ideology was being advanced by a “sickie,” then it would be easily discounted and cast aside.

  On the other hand, if his ideas were perceived to be the enlightened philosophy of an intelligent revolutionary, then Ted would gain respect in some quarters and possibly even develop a following.

  Dave said it had been interesting to watch Ted during the short public court session. He refused to even look at his mother or brother, who were in the courtroom, or acknowledge their presence.

  As Dave and his boss, Joel, were waiting for Judge Burrell and Ted to finish their discussion in chambers, Joel said, “That friend of yours, Chris, is going to be on TV doing an interview,” a comment that implied I couldn’t be trusted and was going behind Dave’s back.

  Dave immediately shot that theory out of the water, replying, “I know. Chris already told me.”

  There was no further comment, Dave said.

  I asked Dave how Joel knew about the interview before it even aired. Dave said they had a public relations spokeswoman, Leesa Brown, who monitored every facet of the media, from tabloids to talk shows to mainstream television and newspapers. Besides finding out what was coming from the press, her job included making statements to the press regarding the trial.

  Dave said he was busy and couldn’t talk anymore, but that he would call again on Wednesday. He was soon to be in San Diego training for his new job.

  Earlier, when I had asked him about the witness list, he said Robert Cleary planned to first lay the foundation for the case, then call expert witnesses—lab technicians, forensic analysts, and agents involved with the investigation and arrest—and finally call civilian witnesses to the stand. The flow and direction of the trial would determine when and who would be called.

  My thoughts during those early days in January were often directed to Ted, trying to understand his adult life between his move to Mon
tana in 1971 and the fight for his life in a courtroom.

  Some of the things I had learned about my friend and neighbor of twenty-five years were incredible, to say the least.

  It still stunned me to feel I had been blind to what was going on right under my nose, especially when it came to his bombs.

  In scientific fashion, he had developed them from crude devices into sophisticated, anti-personnel weapons. Included with detailed design diagrams were test results, charting the impact of different components.

  He calculated mathematically the heat transfer on the bridge wire inside his home-built detonator caps. He tested different types of detonator designs, chemical mixtures used in the devices, and different currents supplied for the batteries used, e.g., 9 volt; 1.5 volt C cell, and 1.5 volt D cell.

  He field tested prototypes and calculated results like the distances of fragmentation, weighing different designs and various types of shrapnel. Using all this information, he could determine the effective killing zone of each type of device or detonator built.

  He was extremely careful with the shrapnel he used, burning and soaking every piece in acid to destroy any traceable marks.

  Ted achieved technological breakthroughs in some of his later devices by experimenting with explosive mixtures and detonators until he discovered lethal combinations that more than doubled the deadliness of a device while maintaining or reducing the weight of the finished bomb.

  He learned how to eliminate the heavy, cumbersome, and more easily detected metal pipe and produce more easily packed and concealed bombs. The shrapnel in these was made of untraceable materials.

  Even when he still used pipe, Ted learned how to make the bombs explode with greater fragmentation, causing more damage. His designs showed a gradual learning curve, the result of continuing experiments.

  He obviously was obsessive about the very technology he loathed as he built and tested his devices right under my nose.

  The whole case had dominated my thoughts since Ted’s arrest, but it was so bizarre and unreal that at times I had to pinch myself to determine if it was real or nothing more than a bad dream.