Bomb scare at Mo. airport was more than false alarm

SPRINGFIELD, Mo. — Last month's bomb scare at the Springfield-Branson National Airport was far hairier than casual observers likely realized.

The bomb squad knew this about the bag: There was a circuit board with a display screen, four batteries, wires and a round cylinder with characteristics similar to an explosive material. The bag appeared to have tripped the alarm of an explosive detection system.

Investigators knew this about the passenger: He was a Nigerian citizen who had been in Springfield for two weeks and two days; he couldn't give the exact names of the family he had stayed with; he couldn't tell authorities the exact contents of his bag; and, in broken English, he kept asking to use his cellphone.

"A perfect storm lined up, is basically what happened," Springfield Fire Marshal Phil Noah said.

"There was a level of tension there."

Let me interject here to say I know a thing or two about bombs. I was a combat engineer during two deployments to Iraq, which means those roadside devils were a big part of my day-to-day.

My comrades and I investigated thousands of suspicious-looking roadside items, usually with robots or other special equipment. Those items turned out to be nothing almost every time.

But every now and then, we'd come across something so nefarious in appearance it would jolt the patrol with a strange combination of fear and excitement.

One of my buddies would say: "I think I got something here," and we'd all swallow hard and begin to hold people at a safe distance from the potential blast zone.

Based on what I've learned about the Nov. 21 incident at the airport, authorities thought they might have something.

Fire Marshal Noah, who was in charge of the scene that day, described the harrowing event. I hung on his every word as he tallied up all the pieces that made this call unique — and terrifying.

This wasn't some unattended bag or ambiguous phoned-in threat. For Noah and others, this could be the real deal — a terrorist in SGF.

As FBI agents took over interviewing the passenger, Noah and the bomb squad began the meticulous work of dealing with the "device."

They stuck to the plan.

To keep from being too disruptive to air travel, the bomb squad uses a robot to load suspicious items into a containment vessel and transport it away from the airport for further investigation.

During this step last month, however, the robot operator had difficulty manipulating the rectangular bag into the circular opening of the containment vessel.

Literally, the ol' square peg in a round hole conundrum.

After several attempts, Noah realized a human being needed to intervene.

It was Noah himself, unwilling to put a team member in danger, who put on a protective suit and walked toward what very well could have been a deadly bomb.

This was the most precarious moment of the day, Noah acknowledged to me. I was wringing my hands as he recalled his walk into potential danger.

As I listened, I was filled with a feeling I haven't had in years. I know that type of uncertain danger. Am I provoking a deadly blast or merely overhandling an unfortunate combination of trash? Am I about to be the star of a comedy or a tragedy?

Sitting there, listening to Noah, I first suspected it was anxiety that was flooding back to me. If I'm honest, I found the story thrilling. It might sound macabre, but I think I was suddenly struck by jealousy. There is nothing more exciting. It's like jumping from a plane, not knowing if your parachute will open.

Noah's chute did open. He shoved the suspicious luggage into the container and drove it out of there without incident.

Normal airport operations resumed in a little more than two hours — considered a successful operation by those involved. Officials estimated about 600 to 700 people were directly affected by arrival or departure delays.

As for the bag, the circuit board and batteries were part of an electronic blood pressure monitor. The wire turned out to be a computer cord known as a FireWire. The suspected explosive material was a jar of Jif peanut butter.

The passenger was a missionary. He had been in the U.S. attending a conference about faith-based medical missions.

Noah was quick to vindicate the Nigerian man whose luggage prompted the tense situation.

"This person who owned this bag — he did nothing wrong," Noah said.

There was a bit of a language barrier. The man kept asking for his cellphone because the answers to questions — like the name of the host family he was staying with — were stored on the phone.

"He's just like all of us. We put all of our information on our phones," Noah said.

Noah said the man was nothing but cooperative. He was just unable to answer a few questions.

I got the sense Noah was happy I'd be telling this story.

"I'm sure everybody across the city said, 'Geez, it was just a jar of peanut butter.'"

But for those involved, it was as close to the real thing they'll (hopefully) ever get.