My South Philly Review Crime Beat Column: Former Union Leader's Prison Term Commuted

The South Philly Review ran my Crime Beat column today on President’s Trump’s commutation of John Dougherty’s prison sentence.

You can read the column via the page above or the below text: 

Former labor leader John Dougherty, known locally as “Johnny Doc,” had his six-year prison sentence for bribery and embezzlement commuted by President Trump, his lawyer George Bochetto told reporters.

“President Trump has signed a commutation so that Johnny Doc can be released from prison to take care of his gravely ill wife, Cecilia Dougherty,” Bochetto told reporters. “Cecilia Dougherty is in desperate need of care. Her money has run out for private nursing, and she desperately needs John by her side.”

Dougherty, a South Philadelphian, was the leader of the International Brotherhood of Electrical Workers, Local 98 prior to his resignation after his conviction in 2024.

“John Dougherty held himself out as Local 98’s biggest booster,” said then-U.S. Attorney Jacqueline C. Romero after the 2024 sentencing. “But while he was backslapping his electricians with one hand, he was ripping them off with the other. He cheated Philadelphians, too, through his corrupt quid pro quo with Bobby Henon. Our city and its workers deserve so much better than union bosses and politicians whose true priority is looking out for number one. I want to thank all of the investigators, analysts, prosecutors, and staff who partnered on this case, and, in doing so, stood up for integrity and the rule of law in Philadelphia.”

I recall speaking to a Local 98 electrician after Dougherty’s prison sentence was announced. He was not a supporter of his local’s business agent.

“Johnny Doc was more of a Democrat bigwig politician than a union boss,” the disgruntled electrician told me. “He’s a crook and he got what he deserved.”

But Stu Bykofsky, the retired Philadelphia Daily News and Philadelphia Inquirer columnist, offers a look at another side of Dougherty in a piece on his website, www.stubykofsky.com. 

“If you know me, you know my North Star is Obey the Law. I am a law-and-order guy, and crimes must be punished,” Bykofsky wrote. “With that said, after his conviction for disgracefully stealing $600,000 from his own union, jail time was appropriate. The question: How much? … Before Johnny Doc was sentenced, I wrote a leniency letter to the judge, reporting some facts His Honor probably did not know, and you probably don’t know either - such as his extraordinary efforts to help the homeless, handicapped children, gays, and more.”

Bykofsky noted that Bochetto, who is a Republican, explained all of this to President Trump.

“I am writing this character reference for John Dougherty, whom I have known for some 40 years. I am not here to exonerate him for the crimes for which he has been convicted. I am here to present information about the “other” John Dougherty, the man who has embraced and supported charities serving children, gays, the homeless, the powerless,” Bykofsky wore in his letter to the judge in 2024.

“As a veteran columnist with the Philadelphia Daily News and Inquirer, I had an understandable arms-length professional relationship with him. However, I also had a personal relationship with him during my 25 years as a board member of Variety, the Children’s Charity. During those years, John Dougherty was president on three different occasions.

“In 2009, the charity fell into a death spiral after the Great Recession. It was in a $5-million hole, almost impossible to climb out of. John Dougherty returned for an unprecedented third term as president. There was nothing in it for him except risk — he could have been in the cockpit when the charity crashed and burned. He reached out to his friends, he called in some chits and probably wrote some others, and he single handedly saved the charity that went on to offer services to hundreds of children living with disabilities. John Dougherty gave an awful lot of his time to Variety, but it was not alone. Through Local 98, which he led since 1993, he showered financial and manpower support on many other charities.

“His efforts have made many lives better, and easier, and probably saved some. I request that you keep the “other” John Dougherty in mind as you determine sentencing.” 

Paul Davis’s Crime Beat column appears here each week. He can be reached via pauldavisoncrime.com. 

My Crime Fiction: 'Butterfly'

The story below is Butterfly, which is Chapter One of Olongapo, a crime novel I hope to soon publish. 

Butterfly originally appeared in American Crime Magazine. 

Butterfly 

By Paul Davis 

I lived in what we considered a tough neighborhood in South Philadelphia when I was a teenager in the 1960s. I ran with a tough crowd on the mean streets of South Philly, but I would later discover that Olongapo in the early 1970s was a truly tough town. 

I recall an old Navy chief telling me and other young sailors on the USS Kitty Hawk about the notorious port city as the aircraft carrier sailed towards the Philippines in November of 1970. The chief, who had been around the world while serving many years in the U.S. Navy, told us that Olongapo was the wildest place he had ever seen.

 “Once you walk across the bridge over Shit River into Olongapo, you’ll be corrupted quickly by sexy bar girls, cheap booze, available drugs, and all sorts of crime,” the old chief said with a mischievous grin.

During the Vietnam War, Olongapo, the city located next to the massive U.S. Navy Base at Subic Bay in the Philippines, was like Dodge City, Las Vegas, and Sodom and Gomorrah all rolled into one. The U.S. Navy’s Seventh Fleet ships that operated off the coast of Vietnam during the war were frequent visitors to Subic Bay, as the naval base provided repairs and replenishment to the warships.

As the pent-up American sailors left the ships and swarmed into Olongapo, the city’s shadier elements were waiting. Sailors walked out of the naval base’s gate and crossed over the small bridge above the Olongapo River, called “Shit River” by the Americans due to its muddy brown color and pungent smell. Despite the filth and pollution, several small children on boats were willing to slip into the river and dive for the coins the sailors tossed from the bridge into the water. 

On the other side of the bridge was Olongapo’s main street, Magsaysay Drive. Known as the “Strip,” there was a seemingly endless line of bars, restaurants and hotels all lit up in colorful neon lights. The street was noisy and crowded with passing American sailors and Marines, street vendors, drug dealers, pickpockets, thieves, con artists, armed robbers and innocent-looking young shoeshine boys who were known to hold a razor against a sailor’s heel until he handed over his wallet.

Also on the crowded street were scores of young, attractive Filipinas enticing sailors to come into their bar with blown kisses, swaying hips, pushed out breasts, and shaking derrieres. Occasionally a girl would use strong-arm tactics, such as grabbing a young sailor by the arm and yanking him into the bar and announcing loudly that she had a “Cherry Boy” virgin. 

Crossing Magsaysay Drive was often a case of bravery or foolhardiness, as one could be hit by one of the ubiquitous “jeepneys,” Olongapo’s colorfully decorated minibuses that were converted from American jeeps abandoned after World War II.

The American dollar was like gold in the early 1970s, and one could spend a wild night in Olongapo drinking, eating, dancing, and staying in a hotel room with a local beauty for only about $20.

I was 18 years old when I first visited Olongapo in 1970. I was a cocky, street-smart South Philly kid, as well as a lean and muscular amateur middleweight boxer, so I was not intimidated by the barrage of sights, sounds and smells of this strange town like so many other young sailors who first experience it. I was also not fazed when a bar girl grabbed my arm outside of a bar and yanked me towards the bar’s entrance.

“You so young and handsome,” the pretty Filipina said as she tugged my arm.  “You Cherry Boy?” I pulled my arm loose from her grip and replied, “Not hardly.”

Thankfully, I had good friends on the aircraft carrier who had visited Olongapo during the Kitty Hawk’s previous combat cruise, and they warned me about the dangers and pitfalls, as well as the delights, of the notorious city. As an aspiring crime writer, Olongapo sounded like just the place for me.

All American servicemen were duly warned of the dangers when visiting Olongapo’s bars and other establishments. One rule pounded into the sailors by the older sailors was not to “Butterfly” in individual bars. To butterfly was to associate with two bar girls, called “Hostesses,” in any one bar. The bar girls were protective of their claimed sailors and the money they earned from the sailors buying them whisky (actually Coke) and champagne (actually 7-Up). The price of a drink for the girls was only about a buck, so the sailors didn’t mind paying this apparent scam. But the bar girls resented another bar girl poaching on their moneymakers.

When a sailor would butterfly, whether on his own initiative or by the encouragement of another bar girl, the aggrieved bar girl would often fly into a rage and attack the other bar girl, and sometimes the offending sailor. 

Even before I set foot in Olongapo, I heard the much-repeated cautionary tale about an American sailor who committed the offense and paid a dear price. The bar girl he had been seeing was so mad when he flirted with another bar girl that she attacked the girl on the dance floor. To the consternation of the bar’s manager and the utter delight of the American sailors, the two girls pulled hair, and kicked and punched each other. 

 The Filipino manager and his waiters pulled the two girls apart. The offended girl then went to her purse and pulled out her Batangas knife, a weapon more commonly known as a “Butterfly” knife. The knife had two handles with the sharp blade concealed in the groves of the handles. When flashed, flipped and fanned by someone who knew what they are doing, the butterfly knife was a most scary and deadly thing. 

 This bar girl knew how to use the butterfly knife and she charged the butterflying sailor and slit his throat as he sat in a chair. He died on the way to the base hospital.

 

On my first visit to Olongapo in early December of 1970, I went into one of the bars with some shipmates and met a pretty girl who sat with me as I bought her drinks. I had fun drinking and dancing with her, and we ended up in a hotel room for the night. I returned to the ship the following morning and we soon shoved off for our first “Yankee Station” line period in the Gulf of Tonkin in the South China Sea off the coast of Vietnam.   

We spent Christmas on Yankee Station, but we pulled back into Subic Bay on December 31st, New Year's Eve. Not everyone was glad to see us. The American sailors stationed on the base and on smaller ships hated when an aircraft carrier pulled into port. With the carrier’s 4, 700 men going ashore with money in their pockets and eager for action, the city’s inhabitants went all out to receive them. 

In a case of reverse butterflying, two sailors stationed on the base at Subic Bay resented the Kitty Hawk’s sailors taking over the city on that first night in port. One base sailor was truly angry, as his regular girl at the bar ignored him and cuddled up to a young Kitty Hawk sailor. The base sailor got drunk along with his pal and when the girl went to the restroom, the two base sailors pounced on the Kitty Hawk sailor. They beat him to the floor and one of the two assailants broke a bottle of beer over his head. 

The Kitty Hawk sailor was beaten unconscious before other sailors and the Filipino waiters could break it up. The Philippine police and the U.S. Navy Shore Patrol rushed into the bar and took hold of the two base sailors. The Kitty Hawk sailor was gravely injured, and he was taken by two Shore Patrol petty officers to the base hospital. The two base sailors were released by the Philippine police into the custody of two other Shore Patrol petty officers and a junior officer. The Shore Patrol petty officers handcuffed the pair and escorted them to the base, where they were charged with aggravated assault and attempted murder by civilian Naval Investigative Service (NIS) special agents.

 

The story of the assault on the Kitty Hawk sailor spread quickly all over Olongapo. I heard the story from another sailor as I sat in the Starlight bar with two of my shipmates from the Kitty Hawk’s Communications Radio (CR) Division. Dino Ingemi was a solid six-footer with thinning dark hair. He was an outgoing and funny guy from the Bronx, and everyone in the division liked him. Mike Hunt was also a popular guy. He was a brawny, laid-back Californian whose light brown hair, ski nose and easygoing manner belied his background as an outlaw biker prior to enlisting in the Navy to avoid being drafted into the Army. Both Ingemi and Hunt were Olongapo veterans, having visited the wild city the year before during Kitty Hawk’s previous combat cruise. 

 As I was half-Italian on my mother’s side and I grew up in a predominantly Italian American South Philadelphia neighborhood, I called Dino Ingemi my paisan. 

"Just another fun night in Olongapo, Paul," my paison said. "That kind of shit won't happen here at the Starlight."

The Filipino band at the Starlight had everyone jumping and dancing to their renditions of popular American songs of the time. The Filipino musicians were incredible mimics, sounding like Sly and the Family Stone with one song, the Four Tops with another, and then went on to sound eerily like the Beatles in yet another number. 

We were all dressed in “civies,” as sailors called civilian clothes, and I was wearing a short-sleeved tan and black Italian knit shirt and black slacks. I was something of a clotheshorse, and I differed from most of the other sailors, who were usually clad simply in tie-dyed t-shirts and jeans. Thankfully, the then-chief of naval operations, Admiral Elmo Zumwalt, the enlisted man’s hero, allowed sailors to go ashore in civies rather than in uniform.

We sat at a table drinking bottles of San Miguel, the local beer, when I was approached by Linda Divita, a slim, pretty girl who swayed around me to the music and then pulled me up from my chair to dance with her.  Linda had long dark hair and long lovely legs beneath her short black dress. The low cut of her dress afforded one the view of her mostly exposed small breasts.

 Dino Ingemi approved.  

“She’s got a great ass and cute little tits,” Ingemi said to me when we finally sat back down. I nodded in agreement as Ingemi was smacked on the arm by Marlena Abadiano, the pretty girl he had been seeing since he first visited Olongapo the year before. 

Dino Ingemi was very social and made friends easily. He had become close with the Starlight manager, Samuel Rosalita, during the previous cruise. Rosalita joined us at our table and laughed and drank with us. He gave me his business card and another card that read “Welcome to the Starlight: Charming A-Go-Go dancers, Beautiful Ladies and Outstanding Combos.”

I mentioned to Ingemi that Rosalita looked like the entertainer Sammy Davis Jr, and Ingemi began to call him “Sammy,” much to the manager’s delight. Rosalita chuckled and shook his head at everything Ingemi said.  

 

I had a fun night drinking and dancing with Linda that New Year's Eve at the Starlight, and when the bar closed, I took her to a nearby hotel. I was drunk and worried that the girl would steal my money when I fell asleep, so when she was in the bathroom, I looked for a place to hide my slim black leather wallet that held my Navy ID and my cash. I looked up at the light fixture mounted on the ceiling six feet above me. Thinking I was clever, I tossed my wallet up onto the glass fixture underneath the light bulb.

Linda came out of the bathroom and threw her arms around me and laughed crazily. She was loopy drunk, but she was wild, sexy and fun in bed with me right up until the moment she passed out in my arms. In the morning, I could not wake her. I knew she was alive, as she moaned and muttered, but she would not move from her face down position on the bed. I found a handful of “Red Devils,” a barbiturate, on the bedside table next to her purse. I didn’t know how many of the pills she took, but I was concerned.

I dressed her and left the room. Rosalita’s business card did not have a telephone number on it, so I went to the front desk and I slipped five dollars to one of the clerks and asked him to go and get the Starlight manager.  

I went back to the room and saw that Linda was still out. About a half hour later, there was a knock on the door. Rosalita came in, accompanied by one of his waiters and an older woman who was the Mama-San for the bar. Rosalita thanked me for contacting him and then looked at Linda on the bed. He cursed her in Tagalog. The two men lifted Linda and took her out of the room. After they left, I looked up at the ceiling light and tried to retrieve my wallet, but it was beyond my reach. I went down to the front desk and asked the clerks for a ladder. They looked puzzled. I returned to my room with two Filipinos and a ladder in tow. They stood in the doorway in amazement as I climbed the ladder and retrieved my wallet.

I gave each of the hotel clerks a five-dollar bill for their trouble as I was leaving the hotel room. The two Filipinos took the money as they laughed uncontrollably.

“Fuck you,” I said to them, although I had to laugh along with them.

Back at the carrier, I took a shower, ate lunch in the galley and then I took a nap in my rack. When I awoke, I took another shower and changed into a black dress shirt and light gray slacks. I met up with Hunt and Ingemi and we all headed out to Olongapo and the Starlight. We took a table and Marlena came over with Hunt’s girl Carmelina and sat with us. I was thankful that I didn’t see Linda. Rosalita came over to the table with a waiter armed with a tray of San Miguel beers. 

Marlena whispered into Ingemi’s ear, and he nodded. Marlena got up and left the table. She returned to our table with a beautiful girl that she introduced to us as her sister, Zeny Abadiano.

Zeny had long, raven hair with bangs cut just above her dark, sultry eyes. She had a pretty face and an alluring figure. At 5’ 11,’ I towered over her five-foot stature when we danced. In addition to her being an exotic beauty, Zeny was sexy, smart and funny. I was drawn to her immediately.

And I forgot all about Linda. 

 

After the bar closed, Ingemi, Hunt and I took the girls to a nearby hotel. In my hotel room, I took Zeny in my arms, unzipped her dress and let it fall to the floor. I told her she was beautiful as I kissed her madly, and we fell across the bed. 

A couple of hours later, I heard a pounding on the door. I jumped up and retrieved my pocketknife from under the pillow. I heard Linda on the other side of the door. 

“Paul! Paul! Open up!” I heard her holler. “I want to talk to you!” 

Zeny pulled the sheet over her head and giggled. “Oh, you think this is funny?”  I told Linda to go away.

“Paul, open up. I want to talk to you!” Linda said in a screeching and blood-curdling voice. Of course, I didn’t open the door. I then heard what I presumed were hotel employees arguing with Linda in Tagalog, and thankfully the voices outside the door finally ceased. 

“So, you think a crazy, drugged girl coming to the room was funny,” I said to Zeny as I took her once again in my arms.  

 

I was awakened in the morning by a pounding on the door. Not again, I thought. But then I heard Ingemi’s voice. I hollered out to Ingemi that I would be ready in a half hour. I took a shower with Zeny and afterwards I sat in a chair, and she stood in front of me nude and dried my hair with a towel. She took my pocket comb and    combed my short, dark brown hair, carefully parting it on the left side. I pulled her wonderfully luscious body towards me and hugged her.

I met Ingemi and Hunt outside of the hotel and we grabbed a jeepney and headed back to the ship.

Later that evening, Ingemi and I returned to the Starlight.

Zeny and Marlena were waiting for us and the four of us took a table. Rosalita waved to us and motioned to a waiter, who quickly came over with San Miguel beers. While we were drinking at the table, Linda suddenly appeared by my side. Zeny grabbed my arm and snuggled up close to me. Linda was clearly angry and deranged. 

“You butterfly, you motherfucker!” 

“Get the fuck out of here,” I replied calmly, tilting my head slightly to the right while trying to sound like a South Philly half-a-hoodlum.

“I get you good, motherfucker,” Linda said with a snarl.  

Rosalita rushed over to the table and spoke harshly in Tagalog to Linda. She spat on the table and walked away. Rosalita apologized and left us. Zeny and Marlena were unfazed, and Ingemi was laughing uncontrollably. Linda sat at a nearby table with some poor sailor and began cursing me loudly in English and Tagalog.  

“She crazy,” Zeny said, kissing me to further anger Linda. 

Linda then began to fling lit cigarettes at us. Then she threw a beer bottle that hit our table. Ingemi, who was no longer laughing, got up and walked over to Rosalita. Rosalita listened briefly to Ingemi and then marched over to Linda, and he must have told her in no uncertain terms to cut it out. 

We resumed drinking, dancing, and having fun and I tried to ignore Linda. A while later I got up to go to the men’s room, which was on the other side of a wall that separated the bar from the rest rooms, the kitchen, and storerooms. When I came out of the men’s room, I encountered Linda in my path. 

“You butterfly me, you son a bitch,” Linda hissed. “I kill you.” 

From behind her back, Linda produced a Butterfly knife and began to twirl it in front of me. As she flashed and fanned the knife in a menacing fashion, I threw a short right punch that hit her square in the face. She went down, her nose and teeth bloody, and she lay motionless on the floor. 

Rosalita and two waiters rushed in, and my immediate thought was that I would have to fight them all. But Rosalita cursed Linda, who lay unconscious. The two waiters picked up Linda and took her away. 

Rosalita apologized profusely to me, and I walked back to the table and told everyone what happened. 

 

From then on, whenever the carrier visited Subic Bay, I went to the Starlight and stayed with Zeny. 

I never again saw Linda, and no one ever said what had become of her.

And I never asked.  

© 2022 Paul Davis 

 

Note: You can read other chapters via the below links: 

Paul Davis On Crime: My Crime Fiction: 'Salvatore Lorino'

Paul Davis On Crime: My Crime Fiction: The Old Huk

Paul Davis On Crime: My Crime Fiction: Join The Navy And See Olongapo

Paul Davis On Crime: My Crime Fiction: 'Boots On The Ground'

Paul Davis On Crime: My Crime Fiction: 'The 30-Day Detail'

Paul Davis On Crime: My Crime Fiction: 'Cat Street'

Paul Davis On Crime: Chapter 12: On Yankee Station 

Paul Davis On Crime: My Crime Fiction: 'The Cherry Boy'

Paul Davis On Crime: My Crime Fiction: 'The Hit'

Paul Davis On Crime: My Crime Fiction: Welcome To Japan, Davis-San

Paul Davis On Crime: A Look Back At Life Aboard An Aircraft Carrier During The Vietnam War: 'The Compartment Cleaner'

Paul Davis On Crime: My Crime Fiction: 'Murder By Fire'

Paul Davis On Crime: My Crime Fiction: 'Admiral McCain'

Paul Davis On Crime: My Crime Fiction: 'Hit The Head' 

Paul Davis On Crime: My Crime Fiction: 'A Night At The Americano'  

Paul Davis On Crime: My Crime Fiction: 'Missing Muster'

Paul Davis On Crime: My Crime Fiction: 'The Barracks Thief'

Paul Davis On Crime: My Crime Fiction: 'The City of Bizarre Happenings'

Paul Davis On Crime: My Crime Fiction: 'The Refrigerator Thieves'

Paul Davis On Crime: My Crime Fiction: 'Go Forth, Goforth'

Paul Davis On Crime: My Crime Fiction: 'John Bland's Scam' 

U.S. Department Of Justice Removes Alien Terrorist In First Use Of United States Alien Terrorist Removal Court

The U.S. Justice Department released the information below:

In the first-ever case before the United States Alien Terrorist Removal Court (ATRC), Nazira Haji Zada, 47, an Afghan national previously residing in Fort Worth, Texas, was removed from the United States after conceding that she is an alien terrorist. As the matriarch in her family, she supported a plot to commit an ISIS-inspired mass shooting on Election Day in 2024 for which her son, Abdullah Haji Zada, and son-in-law, Nasir Ahmad Tawhedi, were previously arrested and convicted. The ATRC issued an order of removal on Aug. 20 that was unsealed earlier today following her return to her country of origin. This was the first case ever brought before the ATRC, which Congress established decades ago, and which no previous administration had used. Zada is now permanently inadmissible to the United States.

The application to remove Zada, certified by Attorney General Todd Blanche, was filed on July 15, and Zada appeared in open court for the first time on July 30. ATRC Chief Judge Joan N. Ericksen presided over that hearing and later signed the removal order. In compliance with the ATRC statute, the government used classified information to establish that Zada is an alien terrorist. Additionally, the government provided Zada and her lawyers, two federal public defenders, with approximately half a terabyte of documents supporting the government’s case. With her lawyers, Zada conceded that she is an alien terrorist and waived appeal of the removal order, terminating her previous status.

“This landmark case, resulting in the prompt removal of this alien terrorist to her country of origin, is a win for national security and the rule of law,” said Attorney General Todd Blanche. “Those who support and condone terrorism should not be living in the United States, and this first-ever case before the ATRC shows how the Department will use every tool at its disposal to protect our country.”

“This is a historic and vitally important step in our work to protect the U.S. homeland from terrorism,” said FBI Director Kash Patel. “An individual who supported a plot by ISIS-sympathizing family members to commit an attack in America has paid the price for that. She came to our country, betrayed it, and has now lost the right to live here and enjoy our democratic freedoms. This FBI and our Justice Department partners will protect the American people from the threat of terrorism, using all means necessary.”

“From the moment President Trump took office, he made clear that his Administration would put the safety and security of the American people first,” said Secretary Markwayne Mullin of the Department of Homeland Security. “The President’s direction to use the Alien Terrorist Removal Court to expel Nazira Haji Zada, an Afghan national who plotted with members of her family to carry out an ISIS-inspired attack on American soil, delivers on that promise. Thanks to the President’s leadership and the coordinated efforts the Departments of Homeland Security, Justice and State, Nazira Haji Zada’s final order of removal is now FINAL. Those who plot acts of terrorism against the United States have no place in our country. We will find them, and we will use every lawful tool available to remove them.”

“Zada supported her sons’ terrorist plot to attack the United States while she enjoyed the privilege of residing here as a resident alien,” said Assistant Attorney General for National Security John A. Eisenberg. “She abused our Nation’s hospitality and represented a clear threat to our national security. The United States is a safer place now that her sons are in custody and she has been deported.”

“Those who support terrorism against the American people will face the consequences,” said State Department Spokesman Tommy Pigott. “We will secure our borders, and we will use every tool to stop those who intend us harm from entering or remaining at-large in our country. Under the leadership of President Trump, the State Department, alongside the Departments of Justice and Homeland Security, will always work tirelessly to ensure the safety of our people and the security of our nation.” 

Tawhedi and Abdullah Haji Zada were arrested on Oct. 7, 2024, after purchasing firearms and ammunition to be used in an Election Day terrorist attack from an undercover FBI employee. Nazira’s son Abdullah, who was 17 at the time of his arrest, entered his guilty plea as an adult and was sentenced to 15 years in prison. As part of the plea agreement, Abdullah stipulated to the entry of a judicial order of removal from the United States to Afghanistan following his term of incarceration. Abdullah acknowledged that the order of removal would terminate his lawful permanent resident status, and waived his right to appeal the conviction except in limited circumstances or seek any form of appeal or relief from his removal and deportation, including but not limited to, seeking asylum. Tawhedi, 28, pled guilty to two terrorism-related offenses: conspiring and attempting to provide material support and resources to the Islamic State of Iraq and al-Sham (ISIS), a designated foreign terrorist organization, and receiving, attempting to receive, and conspiring to receive firearms and ammunition in furtherance of a federal crime of terrorism on June 13, 2025, and is awaiting sentencing. 

According to court documents, Tawhedi admitted that between June 2024 and October 2024, he conspired with at least one other individual to purchase two AK-47 rifles, 500 rounds of ammunition, and 10 magazines, with the intent to carry out a mass-casualty attack on or around Election Day, Nov. 5, 2024, on behalf of ISIS. According to a criminal complaint affidavit filed in the case, Tawhedi communicated with an ISIS facilitator about his plan to purchase firearms for use in the terror plot, including asking the individual whether 500 rounds of ammunition would be sufficient.

According to the criminal complaint, to raise funds for their attack, in 2024, the family started selling off their property, including furniture, computers, a mobile phone, and the family’s two vehicles. Zada signed a contract to sell the family house. The family also purchased one-way airfare for travel to Kabul, Afghanistan shortly before Election Day 2024 for its members, including for Zada and other minor children but not Abdullah and Tawhedi. 

The ATRC is a specialized federal court, which Congress established in 1996. The court has jurisdiction to swiftly remove alien terrorists from the United States when the government establishes by a preponderance of the evidence that an alien is a terrorist. See Title 8 of the United States Code, Sections 1227(a)(4)(B), 1531(1), and 1534(g). It is run and staffed by U.S. federal district court judges confirmed to the judiciary pursuant to Article III of the Constitution and then appointed to the ATRC by the Chief Justice of the United States. See Title 8 of the United States Code, Sections 1531 to 1537. 

The court allows the government to use classified information where disclosing that information to the public would pose risks to national security. The statutory provisions that establish the court provide paid counsel to the aliens if necessary and also permit either party to appeal to the United States Court of Appeals for the District of Columbia Circuit. 

This removal proceeding reflects the coordinated efforts of multiple federal agencies, including the Department of Justice’s National Security Division, the FBI, and the U.S. Marshals Service, as well as the Department of Homeland Security’s Homeland Security Investigations and U.S. Citizenship and Immigration Services.

Acting Deputy Assistant Attorney General Hayden O’Byrne of the National Security Division led the litigation with assistance from Deputy Chief Larry Schneider and Trial Attorneys Anna Donnell, Garrett Coyle and Evan Schultz.

For more information on the ATRC and to view court documents visit: www.atrc.uscourts.gov/. The Department of Justice previously announced the arrest here: www.justice.gov/opa/pr/department-justice-files-first-case-us-alien-terrorist-removal-court-deport-afghan-alien-who 

A Look Back on The 9/11 Attack On The Pentagon

I recall vividly the horrific 9/11 terrorist attack on the World Trade Center and the Pentagon from 25 years ago today. 

On September 11, 2001, I was the civilian administrative officer of a Defense Department command in Philadelphia, where I oversaw security, safety and other programs.

I was sitting in my office that morning on a naval base in Philadelphia when one of our people stopped in and told me a plane had crashed into the World Trade Center.

"Accident or terrorism?" I asked.

When we later learned that a second aircraft crashed into the World Trade Center, we knew we were under attack. Our commander, a U.S. Army colonel, sent all of our military and civilian employees home, as he didn’t know if, when or where another attack might occur.  

I remained at the base, along with the colonel and his deputy, and the three of us monitored the situation via the media and the classified communication equipment in my office. 

I remember the shock and dismay we felt when we learned that our headquarters, the Pentagon, was also attacked.  

My security job more than doubled from that day until the day I retired from the Defense Department in 2007.

I wrote a piece for Counterterrorism magazine on the 9/11 attack on the Pentagon in August of 2011.

You can read the piece below:

 

 

A Look Back At A Cop's 9/11 After Action Report

Below is my Crime Beat column on 9/11, which originally appeared in the Orchard Press Online Mystery Magazine:  

I covered the Police-Security Expo in Atlantic City in June and heard Joseph Dunne, who served as the New York City deputy police commissioner during 9/11, speak to the attendees.  

Sponsored by the New Jersey Association of Chiefs of Police, the theme of the expo was to prepare to act and respond to terrorism. Previous to 9/11, counterterrorism was largely a federal responsibility, but now police officers have become front line soldiers. 

I sat in on a seminar conducted by Joseph Dunne (seen in the below photo), who retired from the NYPD. He gave what we used to call in the military a commander’s "after-action report" on the 9/11 attack. 

Dunne played tapes of some of the 911 emergency calls, one of which had the voice of a young woman on the 110th floor pleading with the operator to tell her what she should do. The woman paused and told the operator that she was pregnant. 

The audience was a tough group of cops and security people, but most of them were touched by the woman’s frantic call for help.

While standing near the towers, Dunne said he thought debris was falling around him, but he discovered that it was people. This, he said, left an indelible image in his mind.

"Consider the state of mind of the people who elected to jump and end their lives," Dunne said. "What awful choices these poor people had." 

Dunne said that the Port Authority and NYPD quickly closed tunnels and bridges and kept the lines open for rescue personnel. This quick action saved countless lives, he said.

Dunne recalled hearing a plane overhead and tensed up, "Don’t worry," someone told him. "It’s one of ours." Before 9/11, a conversation like that took place only on a foreign battlefield.

"The people in the buildings were innocent victims and rescue officers voluntarily rushed in," Dunne said, proud of his officers.

Dunne spoke of one officer who was filling out his retirement papers when the call came in. He left the retirement papers on his desk and rushed out to help. Like 22 other NYPD officers, he lost his life that day.

Dunne rolled out some gruesome stats: 19,000 body parts were signed into the morgue, and they collected 12,622 DNA samples.

"No one signs on to policing to deal with the collection of bodies and body parts," Dunne said sadly. 

By Dunne’s account, 25,000 lives were saved thanks to the NYPD’s rapid and skilled response. 

"As memories of September 11th fade, we have to remain resolved," Dunne advised. "It’s going to happen again."

9/11 was perhaps America’s worst disaster, but the acts of heroism and humanity that followed the attack led me to believe that we have the resolve to win the war on terrorism. 

Note: The above FBI.gov photo shows the Statute of Liberty and beyond it the World Trade Center on fire on 9/11.