Roanoke Times
Copyright (c) 1995, Landmark Communications, Inc.
DATE: MONDAY, May 1, 1995 TAG: 9505010007
SECTION: VIRGINIA PAGE: C1 EDITION: METRO
SOURCE: DIANE STRUZZI STAFF WRITER
DATELINE: LENGTH: Medium
After David Noah got his luggage blown up, things really started looking up.
He got two free dinners, a lunch and a breakfast. It didn't bother him that the meals came in the Roanoke City Jail.
"They put me in the best tank they had," Noah said. "They knew they didn't have a criminal."
A friend he had met at the bus station gave him a place to stay for a couple of days.
The friend "saw my clothes get blown up," so he helped out, Noah said.
And Noah got $325.50 from the city, reimbursement for the American Tourister suitcase, a pair of work boots and some clothes that were damaged during the detonation.
"They were sorry for what happened," Noah said. "Someone got their wires crossed. If you go to New York City, they wouldn't be that nice."
It was all a mix-up that started at a downtown pizzeria the morning of April 19. In the end, Noah said, the only thing he regretted was that he has to move on.
On that day, Noah saw the news flash about the Oklahoma City bombing and called the FBI. He told agents he was a fugitive and had information about the blast.
During his travels, he said, he met a man who went by the name "Steve McQueen," who talked about blowing up federal buildings, gathering weapons and garnering recruits. Noah said he is convinced that the information he gave to authorities helped them find Timothy McVeigh, the suspect investigators arrested for being involved with the Oklahoma City bombing.
Noah waited all day for investigators, but no one came.
That night, he left the pizzeria for the bus station. When Roanoke police found him, picking him up at the request of the FBI, they believed incorrectly that Noah had made a bomb threat on the Poff Federal Building. Unable to tell what was inside his luggage, bomb investigators detonated his bag.
The bomb threat turned out to be a miscommunication between federal and local authorities.
But Noah did turn out to be a fugitive, wanted in Florida for a petty theft charge. He was placed in Roanoke City Jail and released after two days when Florida refused to extradite him.
Noah didn't mind; it's all part of living life on the road. Besides, he said, the jailers were awfully nice. Last week, he sat with a frosty mug of beer at his hand, the city check slipped securely underneath his forearm, pondering where he would travel next.
"Yeah, I like the road," he said. "Why did the Pilgrims come to America? It was the unknown."
He had been through Roanoke before, although there may be a discrepancy exactly when. Those at the Rescue Mission said they had seen the clean-cut, bearded wanderer recently. But he denied ever passing through the mission's doors. He said he came to Roanoke on April 19 for a job with a roofing company.
"But I lost it when the guy saw me on TV," he said. "No one wants to hire a mad bomber."
Noah was in search of work once again. His fingers were thick and stubby; dirt outlined his fingernails.
"You see, a tramp stops and works," he said, describing his vocation.
He marks his travels by the things he has done: Growing up in a Pacific Northwest logging camp, learning to fish in Alaska, graduating from high school "most likely to succeed," becoming a door gunner in Vietnam, a dishwasher in Hawaii, a janitor in Alabama.
His shirt pocket was stuffed with a pack of cigarettes that were quickly disappearing. Pressed in a picture sleeve of his wallet was a four-leaf clover.
But, he said, "I don't believe in luck. I believe in God."
His laugh bubbled up from deep within his chest as he lit another cigarette. With the money from the city, he planned to buy a new pair of jeans, a T-shirt and some work boots, size 91/2.
"They're hard to find, but, boy, they wear," he said.
He has no hard feelings about his Roanoke stay, other than being stood up by federal agents.
"I sat down there drinking beers all day," said Noah, who prefers a brew to coffee with his breakfast.
FBI officials won't say if Noah's information was helpful. The department is under a gag order from Washington, so they cannot discuss the Oklahoma City bombing. But David Burch, who oversees FBI operations for Western Virginia, said the details Noah provided were not critical to the case.
As Noah made his way out of town last week, he promised to return.
"Roanoke is the quietest town in the United States. I wanted to get married, get work, but now I have to leave," he said. "I love the people here. I wish I could stay. I think they feel worse about what happened than I do."
by CNB