WASHINGTON (AP) — The last time Secret Service agents escorted an American leader to face criminal charges, they kept their mission a secret — even from their own bosses.
It was October 10, 1973, and only a few agents knew what history they would make to ensure that Vice President Spiro Agnew appeared in a federal courtroom to enter a plea and resign.
“It was a big day for the country, and a sad day,” Jerry Parr, one of those officers, said in a 2010 interview. “And we didn’t tell anyone it happened. For better or for worse.”
The second time is no secret: The Secret Service is expected to take former President Donald Trump to a New York City courtroom on Tuesday to face state charges related to hush money payments made in the weeks leading up to the 2016 election . The event is guaranteed to be a spectacle and Trump himself plans a press conference that evening.
While much has been made of Trump being the first former president to appear in court to answer an indictment, the Secret Service has been in a similar place before. And there are lessons to be learned about how Parr and other agents helped Agnew during his final hours as the nation’s 39th vice president.
The main one: the agents let their admiration for Agnew, who died in 1996, get in the way of doing their job properly.
Parr, who joined the Secret Service in 1962, wasn’t sure what to expect when he was tapped ten years later as deputy chief of Agnew’s detail. The vice president had a reputation for being President Nixon’s attack dog, jabbing political opponents as “wetter nabobs of negativism,” “vicars of hesitation,” and “pusillanimous pussyfooters.”
However, behind closed doors, Parr discovered that Agnew was nothing like his hostile personality.
“He was actually a really nice guy,” Parr said in a series of interviews for a book about the cop’s lifesaving role in the assassination attempt on Ronald Reagan. “All the cops really liked him.”
An example of Agnew’s kindness occurred in 1972 when the Parrs threw a Christmas party for officers. Agnew insisted on coming so agents working on that shift could be there. According to Parr, who died in 2015 at the age of 85, not many top officials were so considerate.
“To a unique degree, the vice president and his wife, Judy (whom we called ‘Mrs. A’), recognized our humanity and appreciated our service,” Parr wrote in his 2013 memoir, “In the Secret Service.” “To them, we were people and not furniture that came with the job.”
Signs of Agnew’s serious legal troubles emerged in August 1973 when the U.S. Attorney of Maryland informed Agnew that prosecutors were investigating the vice president for allegedly taking bribes as governor of Maryland. It wasn’t long before news of the investigation dominated the front pages.
“Suffering showed on his now haggard face,” Parr wrote. “As summer turned into fall, I heard regular sighs and moans in the backseat of the car; sometimes the soft sound was Mrs. Agnew’s crying as her husband tried to comfort her.
One morning, Parr said, the vice president became upset when they passed a platoon of reporters watching his home in a tony Washington suburb. “They just want to put me in jail,” Agnew snorted.
Parr turned in his chair and jokingly told Agnew not to worry: he would go to jail with him. “And we’ll find someone who can smuggle us a hacksaw blade into a pie,” Parr added, “so we can get you out.”
However, within a few weeks, Parr’s boss, Samuel Sulliman, pulled him aside to explain that Agnew would soon make a plea to end the investigation. As part of the deal, he would have to step down.
Parr’s job would be to escort Agnew to the Baltimore federal courthouse. Sulliman warned his deputy that “he didn’t know if we should take him to jail after the (hearing) or not, and I should know that,” Parr said. “The judge can sentence him to prison.”
Sulliman then gave Parr an order: He was not to tell anyone about the trip, not even their superiors.
When the Secret Service learns that the Vice President may be stepping down, it must rush agents to protect the Speaker of the House, next in line for the presidency. Such a move would attract the attention of reporters. Agnew didn’t want any news to leak before his resignation became official, and he asked his colleague to keep it quiet.
“I only knew about it because Sam told me, and Sam was sworn to secrecy,” Parr said of his boss in a 2008 oral history. On October 10, a hot Wednesday, the vice president’s motorcade made a brief stop at the White House where Agnew delivered his letter of resignation.
Next, they went to the Baltimore Federal Courthouse.
It was just after 2 p.m. when Agnew entered that courtroom, which was already filled with 50 reporters attending a hearing implicating the vice president in the vice president’s attempts to force journalists to reveal their sources of leaks about the investigation of to the Ministry of Justice. Reporters gasped when they realized the importance of Agnew’s appearance.
Agnew’s resignation was announced by his attorney, and the former vice president promptly pleaded no contest to the failure to report $29,500 in federal taxes in 1967. In return, federal prosecutors declined much more serious charges of bribery, racketeering and conspiracy in to serve. (The Justice Department claimed in court documents that Agnew had accepted at least $87,500 in bribes in exchange for issuing contracts without a bid. A Maryland judge later determined that Agnew had accepted $147,000 in bribes over a two-year period ).
Attorney General Elliott Richardson argued that clemency was warranted because of the “historic magnitude” of Agnew’s firing and felony conviction. The judge eventually agreed with the attorney general, sentenced Agnew to three years of probation and ordered him to pay a $10,000 fine.
The hearing was surreal for Parr, who had been chasing his fair share of counterfeiters and fraudsters. He remembered being shocked and disappointed in a man he had admired so much.
Forty minutes later, Parr and other officers pushed their way through crowds of onlookers and reporters on their way to the motorcade. Before he could get into the front passenger seat, Parr said he heard his radio blare in the voice of an irate superior.
The official demanded to know why the bureau had not been informed that Agnew would resign. When the agency learned of news reports of Agnew’s departure, it scrambled to find agents to protect Democratic House Speaker Carl Albert.
“Something could have happened!” cried the overseer.
In retrospect, Parr said, he had made a mistake in keeping the secret, writing that “we got carried away, possibly at the cost of a protected (Albert), the country and our careers.”
As they drove out of the courthouse, the officer heard a murmur from the back seat. Listening closely, he realized that Agnew was reciting a famous Shakespearean soliloquy: “All the world is a stage, and all men and women are mere players; they have their exits and their entrances.”
