Once the hearing began, I sat there in disbelief as the Court got an earful
from the prosecutor, Assistant U.S. Attorney Leon Weidman. Weidman told
the judge, “This thing is so massive, we’re just
running around trying to
figure out what he did.” Among other things, he said that I had:
hacked into the NSA and obtained classified access codes
disconnected my former Probation Officer’s phone
tampered with a judge’s TRW report after receiving unfavorable
treatment
planted a false news story about Security Pacific National Bank’s
having
lost millions of dollars, after I had an employment offer
withdrawn
repeatedly harassed and turned off the phone service of actress
Kristy McNichol
hacked into Police Department computers
and erased my prior
arrest records.
Every one of these claims was blatantly false.
The allegation that I had hacked into the NSA was totally ridiculous. On
one of the floppy disks seized by the Santa Cruz police was a file labeled
“NSA.TXT.” It was the “whois” output listing all the registered users of
Dockmaster, the
unclassified
National Security Agency computer system
that Lenny had social-engineered himself into when he worked at Hughes
Aircraft. Everything in the file was public information, including the lists of
telephone extensions at the National Computer Security Center. The
prosecutor, who obviously didn’t understand what he was looking at, was
characterizing public telephone extensions as “classified access codes.”
Unbelievable.
Another allegation, the claim that I’d hacked into police computers and
deleted my arrest record, was related to my Santa Cruz Operations hacking
case, but the missing record was really law enforcement’s own fault.
Remember, when Bonnie and I surrendered
ourselves to the West
Hollywood Sheriff’s Department, because they neglected to fingerprint or
photograph us, no record was created of our arrest. In short, it was their
own screwup: they didn’t do their job.
All the other
allegations were also false, rehashes of rumors that
apparently convinced the magistrate I was a serious threat to national
security.
The one that mystified me most was that I had repeatedly had the phone
service of the actress Kristy McNichol turned off because I had a crush on
her. First of all, I couldn’t imagine why anyone would think that turning off
someone’s phone would be a good way to demonstrate affection. I never
understood how the story got started but the
experience had been seared
into my memory. I’d had to endure the humiliation of standing in line at the
grocery store and seeing my photo plastered on the cover of the
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