Venezuela 1975
One of my hobbies as a kid was photography. I had my Olympus OM1 single-lens-reflex camera and even had my own dark room. I spent hours taking pictures of dirt, bugs, rocks and other items, while I dreamed one day of becoming a professional photographer for Playboy – it never happened, probably because I was practicing on rocks, but it was a nice dream.
I had my own black and white dark room where I developed my film and printed all of my shots. But I never realized how handy that hobby would come it when it came time to protecting the family.
My mother enjoyed inviting the embassy wives over to the house to play Bridge or just to get together and chat. She was also the Community Liaison officer for the embassy, the embassy nurse and part of several clubs and groups that kept her busy most of the time. This came in really handy and kept her busy when my father was traveling, which was a lot of the time.
One particular day when my father was away, my mother invited a group of women over to play bridge, which was usually a 4-or-5 hour affair. The game broke up at around 3:00 PM and the women all left. A short time later, my mother received a phone call from one of the women who had attended the game informing her that there was a car with two men in it surveilling our house. According to the woman, the car was there when she arrived in the morning and was still there when she left in the afternoon.
My mother peeked out the window and confirmed that the car was still there, with two men clearly visible inside. My mother called the DEA office to inform them what was going on, and one of the agents agreed to come over to the house to stay with our family until the situation was resolved. They also got the embassy involved, who in turn began coordinating with the Venezuelan government to send a team out to take down the individuals.
Overhearing the conversation, I grabbed my camera, fitted my longest telephoto lens, and hid behind the curtain of my bedroom window, which overlooked the front of the house. For the next hour or so, I proceeded to take close-up photos of the car, the license plate and both of the men. I also observed a second vehicle approach the first, delivering food and coffee to the two men. I took photos of that car, license plate and man, as well. I then hit the darkroom and developed everything, printing off blown-up photos of everyone and everything involved. By the time the embassy personnel arrived, we had all of the evidence necessary to identify everybody in play.
As it turns out, the men in the vehicles were cops. A police officer who worked closely with DEA was able to identify both police officers and vehicles with the photos that I took.
What had happened was, the day before, my mother had accompanied the Deputy Chief of Mission’s (DCM – number two position at the embassy) wife to visit an American woman whose husband had been kidnapped in Venezuela. The police had been advised of the kidnapping and were sitting on the woman’s house in the event that they could learn something. They observed the DCM’s wife arrive, who was a known entity, but had no idea who my mother was. They thought that maybe she was a nexus between the kidnappers and the woman, or played some other role in the kidnapping.
Once they were identified as police, the DEA agent and an agent from the embassy’s Regional Security Office approached the vehicle, identified themselves and cleared up any suspicions. Shortly afterwards, the police packed up and left. But if it hadn’t been for my photos and budding surveillance abilities, the situation may have gone a whole different way.