December 7, 1972, Thursday

The RCO is a nut minus a bolt. Rodger said Chris is twenty-nine years old, married with five kids. He’s from a small town in Wyoming. They don’t have a federal building so he came to Denver to be processed. He’s a tall guy with red hair and red freckled complexion. His freckles grow when he gets frustrated. When I met him in Denver he had wild crazy hair. He looked like a mad scientist. With his hair cut short he looks like a mental escapee.

The cleaning was just winding down and we had sung our rendition of “Me and Miss Jones” The two floors get into this great harmony when the song comes on. AM radio plays it twice an hour. When the singer sings the refrain, the upstairs guys sing in harmony down the stairwell and we sing up the stairwell. Not the whole floor, mostly anybody that is close to the stairs at that given time.

We finished the cleaning party. I’m the one of the last guys putting the mops away. I hear this commotion in the bathroom. It sounds like the RCO is giving some recruit the business. He sounds more pissed than normal. The others on the cleaning crew want no part of it so they run away. I’m curious as to who is getting chewed out and why. If I can somehow undermine the asshole Chris I’ll try. I decide to nonchalantly use the toilet. The RCO was the only guy in the head. No one else was around. He was screaming at himself in the mirror. He even answered himself in a submissive manner. He was startled when he saw me.

“Why are you sneaking up on me, Licata?” he barked.

“Why are you talking to yourself, Wyoming?” I barked back.

His eyes nearly fell out of their sockets. Nobody called him that name before. I said, “Fuck with me and I will drop you, you motherfucker. I have wanted to kick your ass. Let’s do this thing now. You and me. We’re alone!”

He turned and walked off quickly. He never said a word about it.

I told Doug and Rodger what happened. Doug asked if he was giving more orders or getting more orders from the man in the mirror. I recalled one of the conversations I had with Chris back in Denver. He said he never smoked pot or did any drugs in his life. Maybe he should have. On the other hand maybe we should be glad he didn’t do drugs, it could be worse. I wish we could have a cigarette tonight. Later.