Kirby Archer was introduced to me in 1999 when I assumed duties as the SAC of a small CID office, in a US military community in central Germany. He was a Military Police Sergeant attached-on-orders to my office to investigate drug crimes. He was an enthusiastic worker and expressed interest in applying for training as an apprentice CID special agent.
Over the months I associated with him off-duty—occasionally. Cops tend to befriend other cops. I knew his lovely, extremely young, pregnant wife. He commissioned a work of art from me (which sagged over his couch for years and when I offered to stabilize it firmly to the wall, he declined, stating that he liked it that way). He could be personable and even charismatic at times.
He had (maybe still has—even in prison?) a weird thing about food. First, he would never eat anything green. No green jello. No green icing on a birthday cake. No green beer on St. Patty's day. Second, there was no such thing as "leftovers" in his refrigerator. Anything not eaten was discarded. No Tupperware. He owned no plastic wrap. Barbecue's at his house meant everyone else took the uneaten food home.
He appeared overly protective of his wife. After an a abbreviated evening of live music and drinking, he was bounced out of a club for punching someone in the face. He claimed the guy fondled his wife's breast as they were elbowing through the crowd. I didn't see the frottage. His wife was far-more upset with his overreaction than the titty-graze.
When I learned Archer could speak Spanish, we subsequently discussed his '95 assignment, as security/interpreter at Guantanamo Bay during the Cuban detainee 'boat people' crisis. I recall some stories and his claim of making good friends there. I recall a picture of him posing in uniform in front of a fence and all the small, dirty, smiling faces mugging for the camera behind that fence. All the disheveled little boys seemed innocuous to their situation. Archer's smile in that photo was innocuous to his looming future with the 'shoe on the other foot'.
Soldiers perform their military mission regardless of their sexual-orientation every day, and Archer was no different. My first indication of his homosexuality was when he told me, in late 2000 or early 2001, that he'd changed his mind about applying to become an agent. His previous enthusiasm had vanished and the only explanation he provided was an unusually vague, "I just changed my mind." I learned, much later, that his attitude had changed after he learned about the extensive background investigation which would have to be "passed" before he would be able to become an Agent (homosexual behavior still results in a black X on Top Secret clearances, in the military).
In 2002: I retired, Archer was transferred from Germany to Oklahoma, and although we fell out of contact, I learned (from his ex-wife) he was divorcing her because he'd decided to live an outwardly homosexual lifestyle. He was still an active duty MP at that time.
I compiled the rest of this story from open-sources, pieced together from press clippings mailed to me by a friend of my mothers who lives in Florida and this web of internets. I've also made a few guesstimates about some of Archer's actions because, although he eventually confessed, there's not one clear rendition of this near-epic ready to be made-for-TV-saga. Since this extensive sequence of events has not been compiled anywhere else, anyone—including Archer himself—who wants to suggest corrections, please, feel free.
At some point between 2003 and 2005, I think Archer decided not to reenlist even though he'd attained the rank of Staff Sergeant (E6) and served at least ten years on Active duty. It's possible he failed to keep his off-duty homosexual behavior away from his chain-of-command and they administratively discharged him. (Note: see the comment section for updated clarification on this paragraph's information.)
He left his male lover, moved to Arkansas, and re-married a woman whom he dated in high school. Coincidentally, his second wife had the same name as his first: Michelle. Although both women birthed several boy-babies, the first was a small, dainty, Philippino and the second was a very-healthy Arkansan. I suspect, in regards to his affairs of the heart and groin, Archer was "moving with the winds" rather than making any real decisions.
Archer got a job at the local Wal-Mart and over the next few years worked his way up to Assistant Manager. He became enamored with some of the clerks and stock-boys who, obviously, took advantage of his willingness to provide them with alcohol and a place to imbibe it. Alcohol, and drugs, and 17-year-olds...oh my! Only this was Arkansas. Where it don't matter if those boys are a-wantin to stem the rose, they're not of age and that'd be Statutory Rape.
He learned, probably from the boys (but possibly from a local cop he'd have had plenty of time to befriend) about the local grand jury preparing to indite him. An arrest warrant was on the way. A plan had to be hatched. And Archer chose to flee (for he knew what awaited a gay ex-cop kiddie rapist).
He removed a microwave from off the shelf, filled it with the daily cash-receipts, put it back in its box, and pushed it out to his car when he went off shift. Good night to all and to all a good night. (Note: see the comment section for updated clarification on this paragraph's information.)
He turned right toward Florida instead of left toward Arkansan-Michelle and had $92K and a 1.2 cu ft Sanyo microwave to begin his new getaway life.
Archer arrived in southern Florida where a friend he'd renewed contact with now resided: a 20-year-old man named Zarabozo. Bozo was a little boy of about eight in 1995 when he was a Cuban detainee at Guantanamo Bay (I think I've seen a picture of him from then). Archer re-connected with Bozo. They spoke Spanish together. They stemmed the rose together. They fabricated getaway plans together.
Bozo was now a security guard. Bozo had a 9mm pistol. Bozo was infatuated with his childhood friend who was then and is still shit-packed-to-the-gills full of unbelievably tall tales.
And Archer. Ex-military. Ex-cop. Ex-husband (x3). Ex-WalMart assistant manager. Extremely poor decision-making-skill possessing felon-on-the-run (who knew he had it in him?..not me.) He was now (definitely) carrying a pistol.
Archer was just smart enough to realize that $92K would not last long (and not one neuron smarter). He decided he needed to get out of the country and thought if he could get to Cuba he wouldn't be extradited, his dwindling money would stretch for many years, and it was someplace he could fit-in because he spoke the language. He thought he and Bozo would live there happily ever after.
Archer hired a deep-sea fishing boat, the Joe Cool, and four crew for $4K cash and told them he needed transport to Bimini Island, Bermuda, where his girlfriend was waiting with his passport.
His actual plans were to hijack the boat and force them, at gunpoint, to take he and Bozo near the coast of Cuba where they'd disembark in the lifeboat and never be seen by American eyes until the statute of limitations expired on: four counts of kidnapping, one count of grand theft, multiple counts of sexual congress with a minor, several counts of flight to avoid prosecution, and one count of being abysmally stupid in a zone limited to simple dumb asses (which is—actually—only about ten years). If Archer had succeeded and was currently a resident of Cuba, instead of Pollack USP, he would have been the first person I knew with an Interpol warrant.
But. Almost to Bimini, Archer's "plan" shit the bed.
It probably unfolded OK at first, but then one of the three men being hijacked decided to call Archer's bluff, attempted to jump him and ended up leaking fluid out of a couple of new holes. With premeditated homicide on the table, Archer—at that point—had nothing additional to lose by shooting the screaming and pleading other three crew members. I'm certain he knew that and did it rapidly.
After all four were tossed overboard to be eaten by sharks, Archer and Bozo headed south toward Cuba. Several hours later (maybe they were unable to navigate) the deep sea fishing boat ran out of gas.
This is my first dunno—a boat that size, with enough gas to get to Bimini, would have enough to get near Cuba. Why it didn't is not something I can figure out. My best guesstimate is: it did have enough gas on board, but when the hijacking began the boat captain hit a cut-off switch to stop fuel from the second gas tank from reaching the engines. (New information: I learned from this book: the boat captain only put enough fuel on-board to get to Bimini, in order to travel much faster.)
Archer and Bozo got in the lifeboat and began to paddle.
The US Coastguard picked them up the next day—many miles from the empty boat, many miles from The Bahamas, many miles from Cuba, and many miles from Florida . . . but closer to federal penitentiary than the Bozo boys had planned. (Also learned from same book: the gulf-stream caused their life raft to float north...away from the Joe Cool and Cuba, faster than they could paddle. I find this hilarious. If you tried to make this shit up, it would read as an over-the-top farce.)
Almost a year of legal fumblings and Archer eventually plead guilty. I stopped tracking the case at that point, and don't know if Bozo was found guilty or not.
As is always the case with true stories, there are unknowns: Archer was found with only $2,200 on him in the life raft; where is the rest? — I suspect most of it was spent foolishly in the many months Archer was "on the lamb."
Why didn't they sink the fishing boat once it ran out of gas? — I would guess panic.
Why didn't Archer feed Bozo to the sharks (preventing him from confessing)? — maybe love or maybe even Archer had a line he wouldn't cross.
2023 Addendum: Archer's son, TJ (who was a toddler when I was stationed in Germany) is now an adult. He provided a YouTube interview-statement detailing the sexual and physical abuse he suffered at the hands of Archer (and others). Be forewarned! It's not easy to listen to this man's description of his parent(s) various forms of abuse. Near the end of the video, TJ describes his inability to feel emotions like anger and sadness. Which brought to mind the adage: Sociopaths are born; Psychopaths are created.
...the high crime rate of our society must be due to the pressures that modern conditions put on people, to which many cannot or will not adjust. — Theodore Kaczynski
