Ironies abound as mayor speaks at dedication of FBI’s new field office

I checked the skies for flying pigs, turned the radio dial to the weather channel just in case hell had frozen over, then steered into the parking lot of the FBI's new Las Vegas field office.

I was present Tuesday morning to watch the official dedication of that new office, which is named in honor of the Bureau's late Agent John L. Bailey. The mention of Bailey's name brought a note of somber respect to the ceremony. He was the well-respected FBI veteran who in 1990 died in a shootout with a bank robber.

The dedication was emceed by FBI Special Agent in Charge Steven Martinez, but was heavily influenced by the jaw-dropping irony of the presence of mob-lawyer-turned-Las Vegas Mayor Oscar Goodman.

Goodman once represented a Who's Who of notorious ne'er-do-wells, was the subject of intense law enforcement surveillance, and once cracked that he'd rather have his daughter date mobster Tony Spilotro than an FBI agent.

To say Goodman and the bureau had issues was an all-world understatement. But that began to change after Goodman seized City Hall by popular vote and the FBI outgrew its Charleston Boulevard headquarters and considered relocating to Henderson. Goodman approached then-Special Agent in Charge Grant Ashley with an offer he couldn't help but consider: 5.3 free acres on the edge of a gang-infested Westside war zone. The price was right even if the location was suspect.

Ashley was grateful for the land, but couldn't help taking a playful jab at his most unlikely benefactor. In a letter announcing the deal he wrote, "On an unrelated matter, I have a question. A comment was attributed to you in the early 1980s that you would rather have your daughter date one of your former clients (who I believe met with an unfortunate demise) rather than an FBI agent. In that we are essentially neighbors, how do you now feel about her dating one of my fine, young, and single FBI Special Agents?"

Tuesday morning, it was Goodman's turn to express his own amazement at the turn of events.

"I wouldn't miss this opportunity for the world, having a captive audience of FBI agents," he said into a glitchy microphone and cracking up much of the audience.

I noticed a few veteran agents didn't laugh at his jokes. Some ironies are more appreciated than others.

Take the august political representation, for instance. In addition to Goodman, there were assistants from the offices of Senate Majority Leader Harry Reid, U.S. Sen. John Ensign, Reps. Shelley Berkley and Jon Porter, and Gov. Jim Gibbons.

I searched, but didn't see any former members of the Clark County Commission.

Maybe they'll send their best wishes from prison.

Gibbons representative Brad Keating pegged the irony meter when he announced to the crowd that, of all the professional decisions the governor wished he'd made, if he could go back in time he would "go into the FBI and become an agent."

Really?

I would have bet that "Avoid McCormick & Schmick Seafood Restaurant" would have topped the list just ahead of "Destroy all cruise photos of myself" and "Check the housekeeper's green card."

Perhaps the most illuminating comment came from Asha Jones, who represents Berkley. As a runner for the U.S. attorney's office, Jones became acquainted with the work and professionalism of the Las Vegas FBI office and concluded that beyond their spit-and-polish image they were "real people that do a real job."

It's a complex and difficult job that ranges from anti-terrorism and counter-espionage work to cyber-crime, public corruption, organized crime, and more. It's a job that deserves a suitable facility, and now the agents have one.

That leaves us with one final irony: The FBI's new local headquarters is located on the edge of a very dangerous neighborhood inside the city's fledgling Enterprise Park near Martin Luther King and Lake Mead boulevards. It took a federal investigation to knock out the neighborhood's murderous Rolling 60s street gang, and plenty of work remains to be done. Crime dropped 20 percent after the Rolling 60s were locked up.

Ironies aside, the building is a coup for the city, the FBI, and the neighborhood.

And if the FBI's new field office makes the area a better place to live, wouldn't that be the most pleasant surprise of all?

John L. Smith's column appears Sunday, Tuesday, Wednesday and Friday. E-mail him at Smith@reviewjournal.com or call 383-0295.