As an officer in the CIA Counter Terrorism Center (CTC), I received an exceptional performance award for “timely and relevant intelligence collection.” I organized and conducted operations, gathering significant human intelligence overseas for the CTC, in some very dangerous places. It was fulfilling for me as an Agency officer and an American. I was called by the chief of the CTC division I served and asked to join the CTC and Directorate of Operations for the remainder of my career, to continue my work in human intelligence collection.
My assignments were taking a toll on my marriage and family. During missions, I had to be focused, have the “eye of the tiger,” and be willing to kill or be killed. I had to “Do what the Romans do,” drinking hard, working long days and nights, and leaving most of my personal morals at home. Essentially, I was paid to drink and steal. The value of human intelligence is critical to our national security. This cannot be overstated. And it has provided some of the most valuable intelligence to US policy makers. So, I do not want to belittle its importance. But, I found myself drinking too much, constantly around loose foreign women and in the company of other officers whose morals were slightly higher than a serpent. Many had sex with foreign women regularly and their wives never knew about it. Most lied, even to their co-workers, and the majority were functional alcoholics (I was no exception); albeit successful ones. My family was very important to me. I traveled to twenty countries, most of them less than tourist spots. Time with my kids had degraded to recording bedtime stories for my wife to play to them every night while I was gone, so they could hear my voice and remember what their father sounded like. I arrived home morally bankrupt and went to church, just to get a spiritual bath. On assignments, I became someone else. I was very effective. Finally, I looked myself in the mirror, and promised myself I would not live like that anymore.
When the offer of a promotion and permanent overseas assignment collecting intelligence came, I was flattered. But, I had already made the personal decision to put my family first. My marriage was on the rocks and my children barely knew me. My oldest son xxxxxxxx had become the man of the house and was there more than I was. I knew when I retired from the CIA there would be a line of hungry officers ready to take my place. I would simply become a classified file in the basement of CIA headquarters. This would be at the expense of my marriage and my children. The divorce rate in the Directorate of Operations is about 60%. Alcoholism is a common problem.
The call came one afternoon in the spring of 1999, as I sat in my CTC office. I picked up the receiver.
“Kevin Shipp speaking.”
The Chief of the CTC division was on the phone. He praised my work and offered me the opportunity to operate in human intelligence collection overseas for the rest of my career. I thanked him for the offer, but respectfully declined. He made the offer again. I declined again. He made the offer a third time and I declined a third time. He had previously expounded to me and a group of other officers that he and CTC management were the “Gods of your career.”
During the conversation he became incensed.
“Do you know what you are doing? You are ruining your career! If you don’t take this job, you will have no career in this Agency!”
“Sorry sir, but I have made my decision.”
He abruptly hung up the telephone. Mentally drained, I walked out of my office. As I did, an older and well known officer came out of his office. He put his arm on my shoulder.
“I overheard your conversation,” he said.
“Yeah, I turned the job down and took a bit of heat for it.”
He gave me a gentle tug with his arm.
“It’s about time someone told those bastards no! Good job,” he said.
I appreciated that immensely, but I still felt emotionally drained by the event.
The pressures of my job had driven my marriage to the verge of a split. I loved my marriage and children more than any career. My kids were the most precious thing in life to me. After all, according to the doctors, I was not supposed to have children after I recovered from a terminal illness when I was twelve years old. It was a medical miracle. I knew when my Agency career was over they were all I would have left, with any real value. I had seen too many officers retire with ruined marriages and empty lives. Families and children are the only real wealth. Monetary wealth and “things” will only satisfy you temporarily. They have no lasting value and will never bring a person genuine peace and happiness. To remind myself, I routinely took a coffee mug with the picture of my kids on it to senior meetings. The majority of people in the room were either divorced, or did not have time in their careers for children. The mug served to remind me of what really matters.
Now that I had rebuffed CTC management and refused their offer, I had to seek another assignment within the Agency. This time I had made the decision to find a position, however mundane, that would allow me to spend time with my family. After putting my name in for several assignments, a call came from the management of the CIA Office of Security. A position had been created xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx and needed an officer there to plug the holes in xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx operational security. I jumped at the chance. I attended the interview and was selected for the assignment. I was elated. My wife was reluctant at first. We had a beautiful house in The Plains, Virginia, on a little hill just behind the site where the International Gold Cup races are held. The place was wonderful and our family loved it. But, with the promise of a good salary xxxxx xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx, we eventually agreed to make the change. xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx.