A Survivor Of Terror Aids Other Victims

Justice Hire Hopes To Cut Red Tape

Clutching tender ribs, a kidney pocked with shrapnel, teacher Patsy Spier came to Washington in early 2003 seeking justice, only months after her husband was killed in an overseas terrorist ambush.

The Colorado woman, whose main grasp of government came from a high school civics class, strode through the halls of Congress and the State Department and used a light touch to secure help from lawmakers and diplomats.

"She was a neophyte, but she had an authenticity that set her apart," recalled Tim Reiser, a senior aide to Senate Judiciary Committee Chairman Patrick J. Leahy (D-Vt.). "She just started pounding the pavement and knocking on doors."

Spier's dogged pursuit opened doors for FBI agents to gather evidence near the attack site in a remote Indonesian province, where she and her husband, Rick, had been teaching the children of American mining workers. After years of investigation and diplomacy, the lead shooter was convicted.

The experience transformed Spier. A few weeks ago, the woman described by friends as a "bureaucracy-buster of the first order" joined the federal government in a role that allows her to help other victims of overseas attacks.

As coordinator in the Justice Department's Office of Justice for Victims of Overseas Terrorism, Spier, 51, will locate terrorism victims and assess whether they need money, counseling or other services. She will also help train FBI agents and prosecutors to work more effectively with grieving families.

No such assistance existed for her in late 2002, let alone for victims of Middle East attacks dating back decades, Spier noted. "I had to make sure that what happened to us that day wouldn't happen to anyone else," she said.

Spier's nightmare occurred in August 2002, on the way back from a picnic to view tree frogs and exotic orchids in the Papua province, when she and a convoy of other international teachers came under violent rifle fire for 45 minutes. Eight people were injured and three were killed, including Spier's husband, the school's American superintendent and an Indonesian colleague.

Since returning home, Spier has made more than a dozen visits to Washington, entertaining job offers and accepting awards from the highest levels at the Justice Department and the FBI. Now, she greets the government officials who helped her as old friends.

Matthew P. Daley, a former deputy assistant secretary of state for East Asian and Pacific affairs, wrote her a recommendation letter for her new job. A former U.S. ambassador to Indonesia, Robert Gelbard, admires her "patience and perseverance where most people would have either given up or more likely blown up." Brad Deardorff, who first interviewed Spier only days after she was medically evacuated, has become so close to her that she calls him "my FBI agent."

Spier's collaboration with investigators has been cited as a model for other victims, many of whom succumb to rage and desperation as months, even years, pass without criminal charges and recompense, said Kathryn Turman, a victims rights official at the FBI who has handled dozens of cases.

International settings add another layer of confusion and expense for victims. Long-distance phone calls, airfares, and the vagaries of search warrants and arrests in foreign lands can appear as insurmountable obstacles to grieving family members, experts say.