[McVeigh] was a real handsome, squared-away young man. He had a GI haircut and all these things that, being a retired Marine, I would appreciate in a person. He was very courteous and friendly…. He never got angry or vein-popping or, you know. We just talked to him casually about Waco and what happened there and how dissatisfied and discontented we were that they treated these people like they did. And then Ruby Ridge, of course. So that’s probably the gist of it. A few days after we talked, then he appears here in my handgun class. He signed in that day as Tim Tuttle, so I had no idea who he was.
One afternoon, a young man came in and checked in for four days. A couple of days [after that], the police came by, showed us [pictures of] two accomplices. And I have a good memory so I said, “This is Mr. McVeigh.” I was told they were looking for a Mr. Kling, so I pulled my registration out and showed [McVeigh’s signature] to them. And even then they didn’t quite believe it.
I have a very good memory. If you act differently, I will remember you…. The thing that I noticed [about McVeigh] was that after he started writing [when signing into the motel], he stopped and then wanted to write again. So I did what I always do if someone does that. I started talking to him. I have learned over time, running a motel since 1981, that people who do that want to write something they don’t usually write. So you talk to them. If you talk to them and then push the paper in front of them, they will write what they normally write. [Sure enough, McVeigh signed the register with his name, not an alias.] … Then when I asked him for his ID, he pulled an ID out but didn’t give it to me. He pulled it back. The way I run my business, if somebody does that I give them a room next to my office, so I can watch them very closely. After the FBI told me he had used the [fake] name Kling, I understood.
I think we got [McVeigh’s name] on Thursday, and we ran an offline search and found out that the Oklahoma Highway Patrol had ran [an FBI] check on Tim McVeigh…. [State Trooper Charlie Hanger] remembered pulling over a gentleman about that time, arresting him and taking him to the Perry County Jail.
It’s one of those moments that was like magic. I remember getting the number for Perry County. It was the morning of that Friday, and we’re all sitting around. And I remember I had the phone in my hand and I’m calling up there, talking with [Sheriff] Jerry Cook. And I said, “Jerry, this is Mark Michalic with ATF. I’m working here on this task force with all these people, and we’re trying to find out as many links as possible….”
There was an urgency, I know, in my voice, but he didn’t know what I needed, obviously. “Jerry, here’s what happened. The Highway Patrol arrested an ole boy here on the 19th. They said that they took him to your facility.” He said, “Well, hold on and let me check.” It was one of those long moments of time. Everybody kind of put down what they were doing and stared at my phone, because they knew that on the other end something important was happening. And he came back and said, “Yeah, yeah. Trooper Hanger brought an ole boy in, checked him in for-” and he read me off the charges. I said, “OK, Jerry. Do you remember his name and what happened to him?” He said, “Well, I think we got him here. Hold on.”
He came back and said, “Yeah. His name is Timothy James McVeigh,” just like that. It was just amazing…. He said, “Hold on. Yeah. Got a deputy walking him over to the courthouse right now.” I said, “Spin that ole boy around. There’s some federal boys gonna want to be talking to him.” I’ve always said I’d rather be lucky than good, and, man, we were lucky that day.
The government was masterful in its trial strategy. And I didn’t see it coming. Their strategy was based on emotion…. [They] knew the weaknesses in the case and planned the entire trial around removing the jurors’ doubts by [recounting the story of] this terrible carnage that had occurred…. I recognize good work when I see it. And I was blind-sided…. You know the old saying, that lawsuits are won by the side that tells the best story. The government had the best story. Reasonable doubt is not a story….
The best good fact we had was there were no eyewitnesses. No one testified they saw Tim McVeigh in Oklahoma. I mean that’s a shocking admission. And in fact, no one testified that they saw McVeigh from the time he allegedly rented the truck to when he was arrested by [Oklahoma trooper Charlie] Hanger.
I guess I didn’t really expect to have the jurors, all 18 of them, as riveted as they appeared to be. And I spoke for close to two and a half, three hours. I thought that with all the activity in the courtroom there would be substantial distractions. [But] they just were riveted on me. It was a little bit intimidating…. When [McVeigh’s lawyer Stephen] Jones started by reading the names [of bombing victims], it was only a matter of a minute or so that the jurors began to look out at the crowd and look at the sketch artists and the news reporters. When that fidgeting began so early in the defense presentation, I thought, it sounds to me like the defense doesn’t have much to say. [Jones] really didn’t have a consistent theory of defense. So I jotted a note to [Asst. U.S. Atty.] Larry Mackey, who sat next to me. I just wrote: “We win.”
One Saturday morning I met [Timothy McVeigh’s father] Bill McVeigh. What I found was a bigger victim of the Oklahoma City bombing than myself. And I say that in spite of the fact that I have lost Julie. I can travel all over the country and I can brag on Julie and tell all the wonderful stories about her and the things that we did together. But when Bill McVeigh meets a stranger, I don’t even know if he even tells them that he has a son. And every single morning that man has to wake up facing the reality that his son was convicted of killing 168 people… [When we met] we just talked about kids growing up. There was no discussion whatsoever about Tim’s guilt or innocence. I would not ask them that question. I feel that they accept the fact that he did it. But I don’t have to have Bill McVeigh look me in the eye and say to me, “I’m sorry my son killed your daughter.” I don’t expect him to do that. He did tell me at one point while we were visiting, he just said, “I’m really sorry that your daughter died in that horrible bombing.”
I’m pro-death penalty. But in this particular case and given Timothy McVeigh’s desire to die, I’d do the exact opposite. I’d put him in an eight-by-eight cell and give him total anonymity and let him rot in hell for the rest of his life…. He’s still calling the shots. He decides when he’s going to die. I mean, he’s the one that gave up the appeals. He still thinks he’s in control, that he’s pulling all the strings…. He doesn’t want to live the rest of his life in obscurity in a cell. He’s what, in his 20s? That’s not what he wants. Well, gee, that’s exactly what I’d give him. For what this man did, laying down on a gurney having the last meal of whatever he wanted to eat and going to sleep is far, far too easy.
