John Kiriakou's Dead Drop - Mini Episode 2: Pete Seeger, American Hero

Episode Date: November 10, 2025

THE BLURB: From the time he was 5 or 6 and became aware of him, John always admired and wanted to know folk singer and activist Pete Seeger. In fact, John vowed to become friends with the legend - which, in fact, John did: he and Pete did become friends. How an event that echoed across Pete's life also echoed across John's. SHOW NOTESFor more great podcasts like Dead Drop, please visit https://costardandtouchstone.com/ Hosted on Acast. See acast.com/privacy for more information.

This podcast, it's a Costerton Touchstone production. Hi, I'm John Kirooku. Welcome to this bonus episode of Dead Drop. What Makes a Spy Tick? Not a revelation. America is a celebrity culture on steroids. In L.A., you can gawk at famous actors pumping their own gas or standing in the produce section at a grocery store.

In Washington, D.C., you can watch former Secretaries of State doing it. Now, I'm not a starfucker by nature. I've been in some pretty big rooms with some pretty big people, oval offices and presidents. It's hard not to be impressed by those rooms while you're sitting or standing in my case, in them. But of all the famous people I've ever met or worked with, only one or two reduced me to pure fanboy. In the case of folk singer and social activist Pete Seeger, he was always the most special

me. Even when I was just six or seven years old and I saw Pete on Sesame Street, I knew that I wanted him to be a part of my life, even if it was a very small one. When I was 18 years old, I said, I'm going to become friends with Pete Seeger. And it took me years. And I did. I had such deep respect for Pete Seeger, even when I was just a teenager, because I knew that he had refused to plead the Fifth before the House on American Activities Committee. He pleaded the first, which just so threw them for a loop, they didn't know how to respond. And so they arrested him. He said, I have a constitutional right to associate with whomever I want to associate, to read whatever I want to read, to say whatever I want to say. He said, I will not plead the fifth because I have nothing to hide. So they charged him with contempt of

Congress, and he was convicted. And the conviction was upheld in the Circuit Court of Appeals, but then overturned in the Supreme Court. But such guts! What big brass balls he had to stand up to the most powerful men in America. Men who had the power to lock him up for the rest of his life if they wanted to. And he stood up.

He had kids, little kids. And he stood up. So when I was 18, I said, I want to meet this man. I had read his biography. I listened to his music. Who doesn't know Pete Seeger's music? He gave a concert. with Arlo Guthrie, no less, at George Washington University.

And I went and I went with my friends and it was awesome. This was 1982. It was the fall of 1982. Because they're just two normal common guys. They don't see themselves as big, you know, folk heroes. When they finished the concert, they just climbed down off the stage and just stood there so everybody could shake hands. And then we finally got outside.

Pete had gone back to his hotel. And Arlo was just standing there on the street. corner and we said, hey, Arlo, you want to go have beers with us? And he said, yes. So every time Pete would do a concert, I'd go, Philadelphia, Baltimore, Washington, Pittsburgh, wherever he happened to be. And it got to the point where he was like, you're that kid that comes to all my concerts. And I said, yeah, well, 1986, it's the very first Martin Luther King holiday. And Pete is doing a concert of civil rights songs at the 15th Street AME Church. And there's a coffee hour in the basement afterwards. That was 1986. I went in the direction of the CIA a couple of years later. And then I left,

of course, the CIA, and I blew the whistle in December of 2007 on the CIA's torture program. I wrote my book, my first book, 2009, and I sent Pete a copy. He lived in a house that he built with his own two hands in Beacon, New York. And so I sent him a copy and I said, Pete, next to my father, you were the most influential man in my life. I wanted you to know how much I appreciated it. I inscribed this in the book. So he wrote back to me and thanked me, and he drew a banjo and signed Love Pete, which I still

have. We sort of continued this relationship, but as adults, we would exchange Christmas cards. And I didn't want to call often because I didn't want to bother him. so important and so well known and so active, especially in environmental protection. So we'd stay in occasional touch, but I didn't want to bother him. And then I got arrested. And Pete reached out, how can I help? And I said, I don't know.

I don't know. Historian, author, professor, playwright, and activist Howard Zinn wrote one of the most influential books of the 20th century. It was called A People's History of the United States. So Howard Zinn calls me and says that there's a painter that they work with by the name of Robert Shetterly. He has a series of portraits three feet by three feet called Americans Who Tell the Truth. And it's everybody from Abraham Lincoln and Smedley Butler to Woody Guthrie and Pete and Rosa Parks and people like that. And he said, we'd like to paint your portrait for inclusion in the Museum of Peace.

in Philadelphia. I was practically suicidal. I'm facing 45 years in prison. And then I get this call that they want to paint my portrait. How do you even respond to something like that? So I go up to Philadelphia for the portrait's inclusion in the museum and my portrait's next to Pete's portrait. And I'll never forget it. And I always wondered if they did that on purpose. But how could they have known how important Pete was in my life? What they do is it's a portrait and then a quote, something you said or wrote. The quote is, even if torture works, it cannot be tolerated, not in one case or a thousand or a million. If their efficacy becomes the measure of abhorrent acts, all sorts of unspeakable crimes somehow become acceptable.

I may have found myself on the wrong side of government on torture, but I'm on the right side of history. There are things we should not do, even in the name of national security. One of them is torture. It's funny. The first half of that quote I wrote in my first book. The second half I wrote in a tweet, just a few nights before I left for prison, the former director of the Counterterrorism Center tweeted at me and said, don't drop the soap, asshole. I gave myself a couple of hours to calm down, and then I tweeted back, and I said, Jose,

I am on the right side of history, and you are not. And I left it there. just before I left her prison, I called Pete and his wife Toshi answered. They were married for 74 years, deeply in love with each other. And he credited her for all his success. And Toshi said, Pete can't really talk anymore. He gets confused. He doesn't really know what's what or who's who.

And he frankly didn't remember me. And then Toshi died just a couple of months later. As soon as Toshi died, Pete spiraled, and he died just a few months after that. He had a long good life. He was almost 95 years old when he died. I often wondered if he really had an understanding of how many people he impacted. He told me a story one time that has stuck in my mind. He was playing a gig in Greenwich Village, and it went a little bit long,

and he had to literally run to Grand Central's. station to get the last train to Beacon. So as he's packing up his banjo and his guitar, the manager of the club says, Pete, Phil Oaks is on the phone for you. Phil Oaks, of course, was another very popular and famous folk singer. Phil Oaks had gone to Africa for a concert, and he was mugged in Africa. And the mugger slashed his throat and almost killed him. He recovered, but as a result, he could no longer hit the high notes in his songs, and he became profoundly depressed. So that night he called Pete, and Pete got on the phone, he said, Phil, I can't talk. I literally have to run to catch the last train.

So he said, call me tomorrow, and he hung up, and he ran to Grand Central Station, and Philoaks committed suicide. And Pete said, that selfish prick had no idea how much hurt he was inflicting on those who love him. And he said, I'll never forgive myself for not saying, fuck the train. I'll just get a hotel for the night. Phil needs me. And it's always stuck in my mind. I had a friend who had some pretty significant run-ins with the law. And he would call me all the time. He would say, I'm going to go to prison again. I can't do it. I can't survive it. I said, you didn't do anything wrong. They're threatening 40 years just because they can and they think they can frighten you.

He's like, no, I'm going to kill myself. I said, James, you're not going to kill yourself. Why don't you come out here? He lived in Montana. Why don't you come out here to D.C.? Stay with me for two or three weeks. Relax. Do the sightseeing things.

Take it easy. No, I can't. I have to find a lawyer. I don't have any money. I have to borrow money from my mother, my sister. And then he called me one day to say that his sister had accidentally blown off three of her fingers with a firecracker. And she was in surgery, but the surgery went well.

I said, geez, James, this is terrible, man. It's terrible. I'm going to send her a card. I'll send her flowers or whatever. And I said, but you sound good. And he said, yeah, I feel really happy right now. And I said, great. I said, give me your sister's address.

He gives me his sister's address. And he killed himself that night. And I learned later that oftentimes when people finally make the decision that they're going to do it, they're at peace with himself. And that's why he sounded. Normal. So with Pete's story, it just always stuck in my mind that you never know what people are going through. They never know what we're going through. If you're going to be a real friend, be a friend 24-7. You never know when people need you the most. But like I say, Pete Seeger, one of the greatest Americans who ever lived as far as I'm concerned, he probably had no idea how important he was in my life, how important he was in the lives of a thousand

other people. But he really was. Gosh, I hope I can be helpful and I can extend a kindness when it should be extended. And I hope I can live up to that. As always, thank you for listening. It really does mean a lot. And if you're enjoying the podcast, please help spread the word about it. Every time you leave a review or a comment, geez, just liking the podcast whenever you're listening to it helps. It makes a difference. That's really all any spy wants to do. make a difference. If you're enjoying Dead Drop and I really hope you are. And if you like the way that we're telling my story, it's pretty sure bet that you'll enjoy some of the other podcasts in the Costard and Touchstone family. Just like in this podcast, the aim with all Costard and

Touchstone podcast is to tell great stories the best way possible and put you deeply inside the experience of the storyteller. There's a link to all of their great podcasts in this episode's show notes. And again, thanks for listening. Until next time, I'm John Kiriaku. This podcast, it's a Costod and Touchstone production.