A Conversation with Frank Wills, Guard at the Watergate

I graduated from Western Michigan University in 1965. Sargent Shriver was our commencement speaker, who urged us to join the war on poverty, “The Great Society.” A month after that speech, I was still without a job. My friend, Tom, called me and said, “Tomorrow, go to Fort Custer at Battle Creek to the Job Corps Center, and tell them that you want to be a, Group Life Foreman.”

“What the hell is a Group Life Foreman,” I inquired.

“Never mind. Just tell them that's what you want to be.” So I did, and all of a sudden, I were one.

The Job Corps Camp at Fort Custer was an urban training facility for 1500 corpsmen from all over the country. After the 16 – 21 year old men attended vocational and academic classes each day, they came under the supervision of the group life department. It was during these after class hours that I met Frank Wills. Frank was a particularly nice young man from rural Georgia, I believe. Frank graduated from the program a couple of years later, and he was placed in a job at Chrysler in Detroit. That's the last that I saw of Frank, until a number of years later.

After a 7 year stint with Xerox Corporation, I returned to Michigan to work as a finance director for the Community Action Agency in Battle Creek. At CAA, we administered a lot of manpower programs including Neighborhood Youth Corps, Operation Mainstream, CETA, and others. The national CAA group called a manpower meeting in Washington, DC. The boss couldn't attend, so he sent me in his place. During the noon break, the CAA director from Boston introduced to the group, a very famous person, Frank Wills, the guard who discovered the Watergate break in. We all stood and applauded.

Frank looked at me, “John! John from Battle Creek! Hug time. Frank and I decided to have lunch together, so he could tell me his tale.

Frank told me that he had to leave Chrysler, because the company had placed him in a stamping plant. His asthma couldn't stand that, so he quit. Frank's cousin called and told Frank that he could get him a job where the cousin worked as a security guard.

Frank and his cousin worked as play cops at the Watergate. One day the cousin said, “Frank, let's call in sick tomorrow, and play some poker.”

The famous day arrived, and Frank's cousin really was sick, so Frank didn't call in, and he went to work as usual. As Frank was making his usual rounds through Watergate, (a complex with pricey apartments, along with a few offices), he noticed that a side door was taped open. He thought, “Damn those guys from Xerox, they were moving in copiers, and forgot to take the tape off the door.” Frank removed the tape, and continued his rounds.

After a short break, Frank started his second round of apartment checks and office checks. He approached the same side door, and found it taped open again! Frank returned to the office to get his boss. Frank and his boss, then, started checking all doors to all apartments and offices. When they got to the office of the Democratic National Committee, they found the door ajar. They, cautiously, entered the outer office. They heard some scuffling in the inner office. “What do we do, boss?”

“Well, we don't have guns,” he whispered. “Let's try this.”

The boss flung open the door. “WHAT'S GOING ON HERE?”

In the darkness, Frank heard, “Clunk, Clunk, Clunk, Clunk, Clunk,” (five guns hitting the floor.) Frank whispered, “What to we do now?”

“Get their guns! Then we'll call the cops.”

The rest of the story has been written. Frank was puzzled, “From the moment these five guys dropped their gun, at every step, each guy squealed on the guy on the next higher level. That was strange.

I said, “You have to remember, Frank, they're all Republicans”

I've lost touch with Frank over the years. At that time, Frank was unable to secure employment in DC, as most jobs were government funded, with the funding controlled by a Republican government. For a short time, he supported himself by telling his story to CAA sponsored gatherings around the country. A later magazine article, (Life?), showed Frank returning to his roots in rural Georgia, still one of the nicest persons around.