Mourners Hail Victims’ Service to the Nation

One by one, the victims of the bombing at the federal building here are being memorialized this week--not only as human beings, but also as men and women whose lives were lost in service to the United States government.

Carrie Ann Lenz, 26, was remembered by her Drug Enforcement Administration co-workers as “a precious and vital link to our DEA family,” as well as being a devoted employee with a superb knowledge of the asset-forfeiture laws. Her body was carried to the grave Tuesday by an honor guard of uniformed firefighters who work daily alongside her father, Ken.

She was five-months pregnant with her first son.

Likewise, Mickey Bryant Maroney was laid to rest by hundreds of fellow law enforcement officers who paid tribute to him as an exemplary veteran of the Secret Service. As one mourner said in his eulogy: “Mickey and his pride will be remembered as long as the Secret Service is remembered.”

At a time when the federal government is often portrayed by critics as an enemy of the people, the messages heard at these funerals point up the inherent difficulty of placing blame for the nation’s problems on a government that is one “of the people, by the people and for the people.”

In Oklahoma City--as in most parts of the country--government is not some faceless, senseless bureaucrat in Washington, not just the President or the Congress. Instead, it is made up of friends, neighbors, co-workers and fellow churchgoers.

It is ironic that this message about the nature of government has been made clear as a result of a tragedy believed to be the handiwork of those who see the federal hierarchy as being in opposition to the people.

Authorities have indicated that Timothy J. McVeigh, 27, may have helped to detonate a bomb at the federal building last Wednesday out of a desire to strike back at government on behalf of the people. McVeigh has refused to cooperate with authorities, claiming that he is a “prisoner of war” in his self-styled battle against U.S. officialdom.

Because most of the bombing victims were employed by federal agencies, their funerals have had a distinctly patriotic and bureaucratic tone. At many of the services, survivors who work at a particular office often sit together, with some wearing the insignia or uniforms of their agency.

Of the nearly 2,000 people who attended Maroney’s funeral, hundreds were uniformed members of federal, state and local law enforcement agencies. At the service for Lenz, which drew about 750 mourners, there was a special section of pews set aside for employees of the DEA and the Oklahoma City Fire Department.

Patriotic songs such as “God Bless America” were played at the funerals, as were religious hymns like “Amazing Grace” and “How Great Thou Art.”

Maroney, 50, was remembered Tuesday by one of his co-workers, Jack Kippenburger, as a consummate professional who diligently guarded Sen. Edward M. Kennedy (D-Mass.) during the Democrat’s 1980 bid for the presidency. Maroney recently had participated in a massive anti-counterfeiting effort headquartered in Cyprus.

But Kippenburger said Maroney had turned down many promotions because he wanted to stay close to his children and did not like the idea of leaving the Texas-Oklahoma area. He once even took a two-year assignment guarding former First Lady Lady Bird Johnson--one of the Secret Service’s least exciting tasks--to keep from being assigned elsewhere.

In the Secret Service’s 130-year history, Kippenburger noted, the agency devoted to fighting counterfeiting and protecting the President has never suffered as big a tragedy as it did last Wednesday, when a number of agents were killed in the blast. Kippenburger emphasized that agents often develop a strong personal bond “that serves as the very fabric of the Secret Service.”

“Mickey and his pride will be remembered as long as the Secret Service is remembered,” Kippenburger said. “Mickey’s children will never have to stand alone as long as there is a Secret Service.”

A talented athlete who played defensive end on the University of Arkansas Razorbacks’ 1963 national championship football team, Maroney also was eulogized as a devoted churchgoer and Sunday school teacher who helped to establish an annual prayer breakfast for law enforcement officials in this city.

Friends said Maroney had rededicated himself to serving his church and his God after surviving a near-fatal illness in recent years.

Don Glover, a friend and church member, remembered that Maroney often enjoyed using the siren and flashing lights on his Secret Service vehicle to frighten unsuspecting friends and entertain young children. He described it as a harmless abuse of federal power.

Lenz’s life was snuffed out while she was awaiting the birth of a son, whom she intended to name Michael James Lenz III. She and Michael James Lenz Jr. were married on Sept. 14, 1991, shortly after she began working as a legal technician at the DEA. Her wedding portrait stood on an easel next to her coffin on Tuesday.

Judy Hoke, a DEA agent who worked and socialized with Lenz, recalled that she was “so dependable, so professional.” She had a gentle but forceful way of dealing with other agencies and often impressed inquiring defense lawyers with her knowledge of the laws requiring those found guilty of illegal drug activity to forfeit their assets to the government.

Inside the office, Hoke recalled, Lenz was responsible for assessing all of the employees for contributions to a flower fund. Even the crankiest DEA agents were not willing to risk what Hoke described as “the wrath of Carrie” by falling behind in their payments.

“To each of us, it was really like losing a family member,” Hoke said.

Like most of the mourners at both of these funerals on Tuesday, Dallas Cowboys Coach Barry Switzer--who recruited Maroney for Arkansas in the early 1960s--made it clear after the service that he considered the bombing to be an act against helpless citizens, not against the government.

“How could man do this to man?” he asked, shaking his head.

* RELATED STORIES, PHOTOS, GRAPHICS: A14-A17