A Star Special Report He authored the e-mails laying out a plot to discredit Calhoun County officials who wanted to delay the startup of the chemical weapons incinerator.
And when the plot was publicly revealed in September, he bore the brunt of criticism from local politicians.
But long before Larry Skelly became the embodiment of mistrust between local officials and the federal government, the retired Army colonel was a controversial figure within the federal program to protect communities near the nation's eight chemical weapons stockpiles.
That earlier controversy centered on Skelly's deep involvement in one arcane aspect of the program - the effort to supply county and state emergency managers with computer software crucial to response during a chemical weapons accident.
Some officials believe that Skelly, acting as an Army official, pushed a particular software package because the company he worked for developed it, not because it was a superior product.
Local emergency officials saw bugs in the software Skelly's company developed and refused to use it, arguing that the technology was unsafe.
A two-month investigation by The Anniston Star uncovered a more complex story. While it found no definitive evidence of a conflict of interest, the appearance of one has caused confusion in the ranks of state and county officials who worked with Skelly.
As a result of The Star's probe, the Army is conducting an "informal inquiry," a spokesman at the Pentagon said. The inquiry will address the federal employee loan program that brought Skelly to the Army from a research facility largely funded by the Department of Energy.
It appears Skelly could be only the tip of the iceberg. Because of inquiries about him, the Army now is scrutinizing the loaner program as it applies to other employees in the chemical demilitarization program, said Army spokesman Maj. Rudy Burwell. It is doing it to ensure no similar situations arise that arguably could give the appearance of a conflict.
"We want to make sure we don't put anybody in a bad situation," Burwell said.
The Army continues to delay answering questions that seek to untangle Skelly's associations. Last week, Army officials in the Pentagon issued a carefully worded statement saying the Army needs more time to review documents that could determine whether there was a conflict of interest or the appearance of such a conflict. Both are forbidden by federal code of ethics.
The response raises more questions than it answers. One such question is why the Army has addressed this issue only at the request of The Star, and only after Skelly's federal loan assignment expired in September?
What is clear at this point is that, after weeks of being made aware of the possibilities for conflict-of-interest problems, the Army can't or won't dismiss them outright.
Also clear is that Skelly, who enjoyed a distinguished military career, was put in an awkward position by his work in the program that prepares communities for handling a chemical weapons disaster.
Rightly or wrongly, Skelly's association with the Army and the lab where his company developed its software caused confusion as to where his allegiance lies and who paid his salary, according to interviews with emergency preparedness officials.
In Calhoun County, where tempers run hot when it comes to the preparedness program, the confusion deepened a longstanding mistrust of the Army's leadership regarding chemical weapons issues.
A Tale of Two Software Packages
They call it the "Batcave." It's a fun nickname for a place with a deadly serious mission: to alert Calhoun County residents and emergency responders if a cloud of deadly vapor wafts off the Anniston Army Depot.
The operations center at the Calhoun County Emergency Management Agency is state-of-the-art, to be sure. It is a hive of flickering computer monitors and television screens built into the old armory building in Jacksonville. Its caretaker, EMA director Mike Burney, will tell you it's a vast improvement over the agency's former digs in the basement of the county administration building.
But until recently, Burney would insist the center was all show. Many critics agreed, arguing that the county is woefully unprepared to handle a major chemical weapons emergency, and that much of the fault lies in the county's own lack of action, at least until recently, when more federal money became available. The county is using that money now in a wide array of steps to become better prepared.
Burney, however, insisted that the absence of key items prevented him from fully protecting the residents of the county.
Among the missing key items was upgrades for EMIS, the computer software used to communicate with the depot and track any chemical plume. The software also tells emergency management staff what areas will be affected by the plume and what actions should be taken in those areas.
A contractor is upgrading the system with millions of dollars of Army funding that arrived at the county about six months ago. The money was hard-won, coming only after several denied budget requests and the intervention of a Defense Department official in November 2001.
Even after Undersecretary of Defense Pete Aldridge granted the request, as part of the landmark $40.5 million grant that also would pay for protective hoods and other equipment, the Army hesitated.
The 2002 new year arrived, but the money did not. High-ranking officials at the Army and Federal Emergency Management Agency, which handles the civilian portion of the program, had reservations about some of the items that were to be funded - among them, the software upgrades.
Funds for upgrades would not arrive, the Army said, until after a February workshop in Denver, where users at all Chemical Stockpile Emergency Preparedness Program (CSEPP) sites would lay out their expectations of the software, whether the package was EMIS or its prime competitor, FEMIS (pronounced fee-mis).
EMIS, the system Calhoun County uses, was the preferred software of all depot commanders where chemical weapons are stored. It was designed specifically for the military but could be adapted for civilian use.
FEMIS, on the other hand, was designed for both, the Army posts and the communities surrounding them. Problems with the latter, one-size-fits-all, software, however, created a rift among state and local emergency management officials, who were being asked to choose one or the other.
Delays in funding led to the collapse of relations between federal and Calhoun County officials. Gov. Don Siegelman first threatened and then brought a lawsuit, and Calhoun County's congressional delegation hammered the Army and FEMA in the press.
Burney himself was enraged.
On Jan. 28, he sent a letter to Skelly, who would be a key player at the workshop. The three-page document, printed on EMA stationery, was adamant in its condemnation of Skelly's role in the software controversy, zeroing in on his dual association with the Army and the laboratory that gave birth to FEMIS.
At the time, Skelly was on loan to the Army from Battelle Memorial Institute, a nonprofit, federally funded research facility that operated Pacific Northwest National Laboratory, or PNNL, in southeast Washington state, 30 miles north of one of the stockpile sites. This lab developed FEMIS.
Burney's letter asked, "Now that you are back as a full-time Federal employee of the Pentagon (PNNL's website still lists you as a current employee and your PNNL email address is still active), how can you possibly participate in the Denver conference given your longstanding ties to PNNL, the developer of FEMIS?"
Since 1993, the Army had been laboring under a congressional mandate for the military and civilian communities to use a single system, and to some FEMIS appeared to be the solution. But because of the different needs of different communities, it proved a hard sell that many wouldn't buy.
Many communities did have FEMIS installed, and many use the system. But Burney's agency had declined to make a change for a number of reasons, not least the fact that Army commanders at all eight stockpile sites refused to use it. There was also some firsthand experience: The system crashed during a 2000 exercise in Alabama.
Robert Brown, the former head of Indiana's emergency preparedness program, had a similar problem. He saw a number of glitches in the system when he watched a series of unsuccessful tests. "The software failed each time," said Brown, who has since retired. "I made up my mind we would never use it."
Like Burney, Brown saw this as more than just a question of technology. He detected a personal interest. Brown obtained funding to develop a different system, known as TRACSYS. But "Any time a new version or corrective version of FEMIS came out, Larry Skelly tried to sell it to all the states," Brown said.
Burney echoed Brown's complaint that it often was difficult to tell whether Skelly was representing the laboratory or the Army.
"He was the strongest advocate of FEMIS," Burney said.
Skelly has his supporters. In a recent interview, Chris Brown, who directs the Oregon preparedness program, sang Skelly's praises.
"I believe (Skelly) was definitely working to try to reach the congressional mandate for a single automation system. He was flexible in his approach in how we discussed it and at no time did I discern any bias on Mr. Skelly's part in terms of trying to influence us one way or another," Brown said. His state ultimately chose FEMIS, and is content with the product.
The Army answers - sort of
Once a visible figure who would take calls from the press, Larry Skelly no longer grants interviews. Past and present employers now speak on his behalf, and have done so since September.
That's when the first media reports surfaced of an Army plan to embarrass local officials through a series of emergency preparedness exercises.
Detailed in a series of internal e-mails, the plan was simple. The Army would invite Calhoun County to take part in the exercises in anticipation of the county's refusal, then would exploit the refusal in the media.
Skelly's name was all over the chain of incriminating e-mails, though it was clear from the messages that he was acting at the behest of Mario Fiori, an assistant secretary of the Army and head of the chemical weapons disposal program.
The scandal that followed discovery of the plan sparked talk among high-ranking Army officials and congressional leaders of reorganizing the chemical weapons destruction program. The talk continues.
Still, the bad blood between Calhoun County and the Army runs deep. Shortly after the plan was reported, the County Commission issued a statement calling for Skelly's job. Weeks later, an Army spokesman confirmed Skelly had been reassigned.
Skelly is a Battelle employee again. His current duties involve providing technical support to Raymond Fatz, the deputy assistant secretary of the Army for Environment, Safety and Occupational Health. Fatz reports directly to Mario Fiori.
Since the e-mails surfaced, Department of Army spokesmen at the Pentagon have handled media inquiries about Skelly's involvement with CSEPP. Their written responses to a series of e-mailed queries from The Star helped establish a timeline of Skelly's recent career, as did comments from a Battelle spokeswoman.
Shortly after his retirement from active duty in 1995, Skelly went to work as a program manager for Battelle, with most of his responsibilities falling within the information technology area.
"Very little of his time was spent on developing business with the Department of Defense, and none was specifically directed at the Department of the Army," said the Battelle spokeswoman, Staci Maloof.
In September 1998, Skelly returned to CSEPP, a program he was involved with between 1990 and 1995, while on active duty. His move back to the Army, now as a civilian employee, took place through the federal employee loan program. Skelly got a two-year assignment, during which time the Army paid his salary and fringe benefits, and he discontinued his work for the lab, according to Maloof.
He began assisting Denzel Fisher, a civilian who then had lead oversight responsibilities for CSEPP. In November 2001, Skelly replaced the retiring Fisher in this role and worked in that capacity until September.
Unanswered questions
The Star's investigation was stymied by significant delays on the part of the Army. Spokesmen representing the Army were especially hesitant to answer point-blank questions about the conflict- of-interest allegations.
Skelly isn't talking. He also is dodging calls from the Army, which is requesting he allow the release of additional biography information about his military career, an Army source said.
The Star is filing Freedom of Information documents attempting to secure information about Skelly that the newspaper feels is a matter of public record.
Federal code lays out in specific terms what constitutes a conflict of interest. But Skelly's case isn't as simple as charting private gain, or the appearance of it.
Because Battelle is a nonprofit organization, the main benefits for a product such as FEMIS are research and development funds, which translate into more jobs, bonus fees from the government, and intangibles such as prestige.
"Since 1992, the Army has paid PNNL to design, develop and deploy FEMIS," said Maloof, Battelle's spokeswoman. "Those funds covered our costs. However, we have received no funds for user or license fees."
Maloof flatly said Battelle is not concerned about any apparent conflicts of interest.
The Army, on the other hand, has not issued such a denial. Its statement instead says more review is needed.
Apparently, the review will involve the examination of financial disclosures and job descriptions against the rules governing conflicts of interest. The review will include the administration of the federal employee loan program in general, Maj. Burwell said.
A team of Army lawyers and ranking officials are looking at the matter as a result of The Star's investigation, an Army source at the Pentagon said.
"We are compiling those rules and should be able to provide detailed information responsive to that issue in the near future," Burwell said in response to The Star's questions about the employee loan program.
However, "It will take longer to complete a thorough inquiry into Mr. Skelly's situation."
Others question policy
Neither money nor profit is the issue, said Tom Schatz, president of the Washington, D.C.-based watchdog group Citizens Against Government Waste.
"Certainly no one in any federal agency should be involved in making a decision that can give them (or the company they work for) a personal benefit," Schatz said after reviewing information The Star provided about Skelly's position and duties.
"He (Skelly) could have made a recommendation that could have affected his business," Schatz said. Whether he did makes no difference, Schatz insisted.
According to Schatz, the Skelly situation is an egregious example of a conflict of interest. "Hopefully the outcome is the Army will prevent this from happening again."
Larry Skelly's is a story that raises questions not easily answered by the Army.
Why didn't the Army foresee a possible conflict of interest or the appearance of one?
Why is the Army only now addressing the matter, months after Skelly's loan program expired?
Is placing an employee of a company that develops a product in a position with the Army where he can influence purchases of that product acceptable Army practice?
The Star asked these questions and more during the last three weeks, allowing the Army ample time to answer. Pentagon officials have yet to fully reply.
Jason Landers covers chemical weapons issues and is an investigative reporter for The Anniston Star. Matthew Creamer is a former staff writer who specialized in reporting on the same issues and took part in this investigation and the writing of this report.
