Blackwater ran deep and dark for years on current fear

"Gentlemen, welcome to Baghdad."

That was the announcement that came over the jetliner's loudspeaker as we landed in Iraq. The captain rightly used the word "gentlemen" because there was not a woman on board the flight from Amman, Jordan.

The Royal Jordanian flight to Baghdad was a shuttle service for business speculators, contractors, diplomats, some American military officers and the few journalists who dared to enter Iraq last year when I went in on assignment.

When the plane landed, the people who drove me to our news bureau in Baghdad gave me just two words that they said I needed to remember during my visit.

The first was "sahafi," which is Arabic for "journalist." Although reporters were among those being abducted and in some cases murdered, it would still be helpful in most sticky circumstances to identify oneself as a journalist.

The second thing they told me to remember was "blackwater" and they weren't talking about the make up of the Tigris River.

It was "Blackwater" with a big B.

Now of course, America's most controversial security contractor -- some say private army -- is well-known. But in January 2006 it was unfamiliar to most people in the United States and certainly a mystery to those in Iraq. But it was a force to be avoided.

On the drive from Baghdad International Airport at a stretch known as "sniper's alley," my contacts pointed out a Blackwater security convoy up ahead. Several snow white SUVs were driving at a high rate of speed. As the column of Blackwater vehicles raced along sniper's alley, cars ahead of them and going the opposite direction would pull over to get out of the way.

Keep in mind that the Blackwater SUVs did not have lights or sirens on them. The locals just knew who was inside … mostly former American military special operations officers who would go to great lengths to protect the people they were escorting.

"Why do cars pull over?" I asked our driver.

He told me that people got out of the way because they believed that Blackwater guards would shoot at anyone or anything they even slightly thought was a threat.

And so, whenever our news team went on the road in Baghdad, we followed the same protocol: steer clear of Blackwater. By the time my assignment in Iraq ended, it was evident that Blackwater was just as feared as the insurgents -- or maybe more.

Once, as we drove from the heavily fortified Green Zone that houses most American officials, I got to see Blackwater in action. Ahead of us, about a half mile or so, a Blackwater convoy had stopped in the middle of the road. Our driver stopped as well, not wanting to get too close.

Suddenly, flares or rockets shot skyward from inside one of the white Cadillacs followed by a burst of automatic weapons fire. Then the cars squealed away.

We made a sharp turn and headed the other direction, our driver explaining that he didn't want to see what had just happened. Not getting involved is a national pastime in Iraq.

The story of Blackwater's roughshod reputation was not one that the big news organizations were willing to take on. I spoke with the managers of several news organizations in January 2006 who said they knew about shooting incidents. They knew that even some U.S. soldiers deeply feared Blackwater. And they knew of Blackwater's apparent insulation from any official investigation.

So why didn't the Blackwater story get any attention?

Survival.

In the Wild West that Iraq had become, it was dangerous enough for major news organizations to report stories. Trying to photograph Blackwater teams as they belligerently protected dignitaries and contractors would have been difficult … and dangerous.

It was just a matter of time before a Blackwater incident was so egregious that it would result in the company's methods and tactics being publicly questioned. That happened on Sept. 16 when 11 people ended up dead, shot full of Blackwater ammo, according to witnesses.

When Blackwater, which has been paid more than $1 billion by the U.S. government since 2001, expanded its training operation to northern Illinois last spring, there were some small protests by local residents.

"They kind of see themselves above the law," said Dan Kenney, a DeKalb fourth-grade teacher who is on a crusade against Blackwater's Illinois operation. "They see themselves above the law in Iraq and other countries they go into."

Company executives told me that the facility near Mount Carroll was for law enforcement training only, but protesters still believe it will eventually be used for military commando instruction.

"There is a campaign being waged against us to spread false information," Blackwater spokeswoman Annie Tyrrell fired back last May.

For the protesters' health, I'm glad they are only shooting off their mouths.

Chuck Goudie, whose column appears each Monday, is the chief investigative reporter at ABC7 News in Chicago. The views in this column are his own and not those of WLS-TV. He can be reached at chuckgoudie@gmail.com.