Amy Keller

Condit, who admitted to having had an affair with Levy up until shortly before she disappeared, turned what would have been just another girl-goes-missing case into a regular soap opera, filled with intrigue and salacious accusations. He exacerbated the problem when he seemed to dodge questions from not only the media, but from police investigators and eventually the Levy family. In short order, he managed to get on everyone’s bad side, and has stayed there throughout his failed reelection campaign and to last month, when Levy’s body was discovered, and a new round of cable talk show questioning began.

But while my colleagues speculated on the proximity of Condit’s Adams Morgan apartment to the section of park where Levy’s body was recovered on May 22, I wondered if the location of her body might point to another possibility: Perhaps Levy really was the victim of a random attack. I know the trepidation I feel each time I jog or bike along the park trails near my own neighborhood on the outskirts of Washington. The charming, leafy streets here are deceptive; Washington has its high crime areas, some just blocks from where members of Congress live in opulent brownstones.

I took a straightforward approach, and clicked through news databases, searching through stories about other crimes that might have been committed in the park. Eventually, I clicked my way to Ingmar Guandique.

Guandique is serving out a 10-year sentence in federal prison for brutally attacking two young women along the Broad Branch trail last May and July. That’s the same section of Rock Creek Park where Levy was found. She had gone missing in May of 2001.

I knew I had a good story on my hands. But I had no idea that once I published it, other reporters following the Levy investigation would question my motives, or accuse me of being a pawn of Gary Condit.

According to the judge who sentenced Guandique, the 20-year-old El Salvadoran behaved like a predator, stalking the young women as they ran along the wooded path, grabbing them from behind and viciously attacking them. The prosecutors said Guandique — a mean-looking character, with wild hair and cold eyes — treated the park as his hunting grounds.

One of his victims, who was fortunate enough and strong enough to escape his grip, said chills went up her spine when she learned where Levy’s body had been found. That’s because the victim — an intelligent and athletic young woman who has asked that her name be withheld — still has horrifying memories of what happened to her on May 14, 2001, just two weeks after Levy vanished.

That day, she was jogging along the Broad Branch trail, clad in her jogging clothes and wearing stereo headphones, when Guandique began running after her. He grabbed her, held a knife to her throat and tried in vain to hush her cries for help.

It was his hushing that enraged the young woman, and she fought her attacker, shoving her hand against his face and gouging her fingernails into the soft tissue of his mouth below his tongue. She later told police he bit her before fleeing into the woods.

After attacking a second female jogger in July — this one was also wearing headphones when he grabbed her from behind at knifepoint and yanked her into a ravine — Guandique was captured. He told police that he was simply trying to steal the Sony Walkmans worn by the two women. That defense didn’t ring true to the judge — or his victims.

One year later, when the first jogger Guandique attacked heard that Levy’s body had been found several hundred feet off of the Broad Branch trail, alongside a set of stereo headphones and jogging clothes, she wondered just how close she, too, had come to dying in the woods that frightening day. Privately, she wondered if Guandique might also have attacked Chandra Levy.

Publicly, the police have said that Guandique is not a suspect in Levy’s death, and some police sources have said Guandique passed a lie-detector test last year when he was asked questions about the missing intern. But then again, no one is a suspect in the murder of Levy, who after spending a year in the woods decomposing has left few clues and little DNA evidence that might positively identify her killer.

Nonetheless, police sources admitted to me on background that under the circumstances, they are taking a renewed look at Guandique. At the time they spoke with Guandique, “We didn’t even know her body was in the park,” one police source said, explaining that now they have a whole new set of questions to ask him.

After I broke the story, I received calls from nearly a dozen other reporters — most of them TV news broadcasters asking me for more details about “this Guandique guy.”

Did I know what prison he was in?

Somewhere in North Carolina.

Who was his defense attorney?

A public defender, but she’s not returning calls.

How come no one had mentioned this guy before?

Good question. I was wondering that too.

Did I have a picture of him?

No.

A few days later, I also got a call from a reporter who has been covering the Levy investigation for the Modesto Bee, Condit’s hometown paper.

“I saw your story last week,” he said, adding, “I’ve got a theory I want to run by you.” I told the reporter, whom I’d never spoken to before, to go ahead.

He then proceeded to ask me if Condit’s lawyer, Mark Geragos — a high-profile criminal defense attorney and ubiquitous TV presence who had also recently represented the actress Winona Ryder — had “orchestrated” the story.

The reporter believed that it was most likely Geragos who had leaked information to me about the so-called Rock Creek Park predator so that Condit’s staff and supporters would then have a news story to distribute that would make him look good. And he said that a number of other reporters had also found the timing of my story curious. It showed up in print, after all, the day after Levy’s bones turned up in the park.

I stammered out a “No, that’s now how it happened at all,” and fought back the urge to ask him whether he was also investigating the theory that White House officials had planted Levy’s bones in the park in an effort to divert attention from stories alleging they had ample warning of the Sept. 11 attacks. I also stifled the desire to tell him where to stick his theory — that none of my sources were any of his, nor any other reporter’s, business.

Calmly — and probably a little too nicely — I explained that I simply used one part hunch, two cups of research and one-quarter teaspoon of source-based reporting, otherwise known as conversing with the cops. No, Gary Condit’s lawyer had definitely not planted this one, I told him.

I briefly paused to think about just how bad off someone would have to be for the Rock Park Creek predator to make him look good. Not to mention how deeply suspicious someone would have to be in order to believe the beleaguered Condit would be capable of pulling off such an impressive distraction.

So far, Condit has only seemed capable of attracting attention to himself. After cheating on his wife with the young intern, he failed to be completely forthcoming with police about his relationship in the days immediately following Levy’s disappearance. And while he did sit down with investigators later and provided a more accurate description of his associations with Levy — and he even consented to a search of his Adams Morgan apartment where some of their trysts took place — he’s never explained exactly why he threw that watch case into a roadside dumpster in Alexandria, Va.

He also refused to take a police lie-detector test, opting instead to take a privately administered one, while his media representative tried to spin negative stories about Levy’s sex life. That was followed by his disastrous interview with Connie Chung, where Condit defiantly proclaimed his innocence, but failed to put on a convincing act of contrition. Yes, there’s definitely something about Gary Condit that stinks.

But since that inquiring call from my fellow reporter, I’ve paid close attention to how my fellow journalists have covered the Levy murder investigation — particularly when it comes to how they portray potential suspects like Condit and Guandique. On cable news shows, Guandique’s name and photo are regularly flashed on the screen, and he’s usually mentioned as just one of several individuals police are taking a look at.

Condit, meanwhile, still gets the bulk of their airtime. The Supermarket tabloid Star is still hot on Condit’s trail, without making any mention of Guandique — proving that stories about 20-year-old Salvadoran convicts just don’t sell as well as stories about philandering congressmen, tempting interns and scorned political wives.

But what still troubles me is the possibility that in our frenzied attempt to feed the public’s appetite for any Condit connection to Chandra Levy, the media may be giving the real killer — if not Guandique, then perhaps someone else — a free pass for the murder.

Since my story broke, I also received several e-mails from folks inside the Beltway and beyond who had read my story, or saw me interviewed on television about Guandique.

One reader named “Darlene” told me she has her own theory.

“In regard to Chandra Levy,” Darlene wrote, “who’s to say someone didn’t pay off jailed convict [Ingmar Guandique] to assault these two females AFTER Chandra disappeared to cast reasonable doubt on the real murderer’s identity?!”

Actually, Darlene, I hadn’t considered that possibility. But have you thought about calling the Modesto Bee?

The controversy grew even uglier as lawmakers — mostly Democrats –
accused their Republican colleagues of bigotry for having asked
the Rev. Timothy O’Brien, the supposed top contender for the job,
“inappropriate questions” during the interview process. Football
stud-cum-congressional star Steve Largent, R-Okla., came under
considerable scrutiny for asking whether O’Brien planned to wear his
Roman collar around the Capitol and whether it might be seen as “divisive.”
Another Republican was said to have suggested that a celibate priest might
have difficulty relating to members of Congress and their families in his counseling role.

By December, allegations of anti-Catholic rhetoric and bigotry among the GOP
ranks were making national headlines, Democrats were demanding a review of
the selection process, O’Brien was making a public stink about being snubbed
and Republicans were scrambling to explain themselves.

John Swomley, the president of Americans for Religious Liberty, fired off
a letter to all House members imploring them to “reject the nomination” of
the Presbyterian Wright as chaplain to “remedy a deeply flawed process that suggests the
unconstitutional application of a religious test for public office.”

Swomley noted that in the 210-year history of the House, all 58
chaplains have been Protestants; and only one of the Senate’s 61 chaplains has
been Catholic.

Even the Kansas City Star chimed in with an editorial calling on Congress
to “rethink the whole system of legislative chaplains” and save the taxpayers
some money in the process. The chaplain, who is one of five “officers”
appointed by the House, makes $132,000 annually. That’s only slightly less
than the $136,700 earned by the members of Congress he advises.

In defending their chaplain choice, House Speaker Dennis Hastert, R-Ill.,
and Majority Leader Dick Armey, R-Texas, argued that they had rejected
O’Brien not because he was a Catholic, but because they believed Wright had
the “best interpersonal and counseling skills.”

O’Brien, they argued, simply lacked the experience they were looking for,
despite the fact that he had served as a part-time chaplain at the Walter
Reed Army Medical Center in Washington and had taken classes in stress management counseling
and counseling the addictive personality. He also served five years as
an associate pastor of a parish in Milwaukee, where he directed adult
education programs and youth ministries and worked with many of the 3,000
families attending the church.

For his part, Wright also had impressive credentials — he currently works for the National Prayer Breakfast Movement and has served as a pastor at various Presbyterian churches in Georgia, Pennsylvania and Maryland.

The GOP leaders further argued that the 18-member selection panel was
merely responsible for narrowing down a broad pool of applicants and forwarding
three names to the House leadership for a final vote by Hastert, Armey and Minority
Leader Richard Gephardt, D-Mo. In selecting Wright, Hastert and Armey didn’t seem bothered that the majority of the selection committee’s members preferred O’Brien. They said they were unaware of dissenting voices and that they were irrelevant, anyway — even if prominent Democrats like Gephardt had openly criticized the move.

A GOP -commissioned report on the selection process released earlier this month
showed that O’Brien had received 14 check marks in his favor — the most of any candidate
in a final tally taken by the search committee. The second-place contender received 10.5 check marks, but Wright had gotten only 9.5.

Angry Democrats demanded to know why the House leadership would convene a
committee to select a chaplain and then blatantly ignore the panel’s recommendation.

Meanwhile, defensive Republicans asked why Hastert would have created a search
committee in the first place if he had intended all along to exclude certain
candidates and favor others? Hastert believed the committee would have made the process more fair, but he could have avoided the whole messy affair by exercising his authority to forward a candidate for the House chaplain vote.

Under attack from all sides, GOP insiders charged that O’Brien badly flubbed an interview, and accused
Democrats of simply fanning the flames for political gain.

As news of the controversy spread beyond the Beltway, editorial boards
across the country slammed Republicans as anti-Catholic bigots and demanded
answers. Polling by the National Republican Congressional Committee,
the campaign arm of the House GOP, showed a serious backlash among Catholic
voters, a critical swing vote — and Republicans began circulating a 1998
article from Crisis Magazine illustrating a pattern of electoral
losses for Republicans in times when they have lost Catholic support.

House and Senate chaplains, for better or worse, have been around since
the First Continental Congress and were originally intended to provide
lawmakers with pastoral care and guidance when they were away from home — the same way a chaplain provides his services to military troops in the
field.

Today, the chaplain offers the daily morning prayer that begins each
legislative day, offers invocations at a number of events, conducts wedding
ceremonies for members of Congress and their staff, assists members in their contacts with
religious groups and provides pastoral counseling to lawmakers and their
aides.

“You do have a lot of stresses and pressures for the members and their
families. The chaplain has played a very considerable role in counseling,”
said Norm Ornstein, resident scholar and political analyst at the
American Enterprise Institute and longtime friend of O’Brien’s. “The
chaplain is someone they can turn to … to make them feel a little bit better
about themselves.”

Interestingly, Capitol Hill’s ongoing chaplain spat is not exactly a new
chapter in congressional history.

According to the Congressional Research Service, a “period without
appointed chaplains lasted from 1857 to 1859, when questions were raised by
citizens who objected to the employment of chaplains in Congress and the
military as a breach of the separation of church and state.”

That’s only half the story.

“Some critics also alleged that the appointments of chaplains had become
too politicized,” Mildred Amer, a CRS specialist in American government,
wrote in a CRS report that was issued last year.

Congress’ solution back then was to have local clergy volunteer to serve
as chaplains — but it wasn’t very effective. Finding volunteers to perform the
time-consuming duties and respond to the unpredictable demands
proved difficult, and lawmakers soon returned to selecting official House and
Senate chaplains.

Other critics wonder whether the employment of a House chaplain might be a violation of constitutional church-state separation. “The answer is not to try to improve the selection process, but to abolish the post of chaplain,” said Barry Lynn, executive director of
Americans United for the Separation of Church and State. “Such a move would be
in keeping with the church-state separation principle provided in our
Constitution.”

But most members, staff and other congressional insiders wince at the
suggestion that they abolish the office of the chaplain — and they’ve little
to worry about. After all, the courts are on their side.

In 1983, the Supreme Court upheld the constitutionality of the position, arguing that it was, in effect, historically sanctioned. In a
majority opinion, the court said that legislative prayer is “deeply embedded
in the history and tradition of this country” and had become “part of the
fabric of society” and didn’t interfere with the “principles” of religious
freedom.

Moreover, it didn’t seem to bother the nation’s founding fathers.

“It can hardly be thought that in the same week Members of the First
Congress voted to appoint and to pay a chaplain for each House and also voted
to approve the draft of the First Amendment for submission to the States, they
intended the Establishment Clause of the Amendment to forbid what they had
just declared acceptable,” the court pointed out.

When a related case, Murray vs. Buchanan, challenging the
constitutionality of Congress having paid chaplains, came before the United
States Court of Appeals shortly thereafter, the appellate court simply
dismissed the case, noting that the Supreme Court had already settled the
question.

Now, with the 2000 election cycle closing in on them, GOP lawmakers hope to remedy
the chaplain crisis by introducing members on both sides of the aisle
to Wright before his candidacy is brought to a full House vote in
February. According to GOP aides, Hastert feels that once his colleagues become more familiar with
Wright and his plans for the office of the chaplain, concerns about O’Brien
will fade.

Hastert, in fact, has asked Wright to be the featured speaker at an
upcoming GOP retreat for members of Congress.

In politicizing the selection process, the current Congress has tarnished the image of an important position and made it less desirable for prospective chaplains. As James
Ford, a Lutheran who has filled the chaplain post for the last 21 years, explained in a memo to the search committee last year, part of the allure of the role is that the office of the chaplain is “non-political.”

“There is so much ‘politics’ here that Members and staff may welcome the
opportunity to speak and to know someone who doesn’t have a political
agenda,” acknowledged Ford.

In light of recent events, members would be well served to follow Ford’s
lead — and keep their politics out of the chaplain’s office.