Another positive result of the September 11th attacks occurred on October 31st, when longtime fugitive Kathleen Soliah aka Sara Jane Olson, pleaded guilty to attempting to blow up two Los Angeles Police Department cars in 1975. The guilty plea came as quite a surprise to Olson's supporters, and to much of the public, especially in light of her attorneys' confident posture as late as October 24th. It suddenly dawned on Olson that the mood in this country had changed, and domestic terrorists, such as she had been, would not be well tolerated, even 26 years after the fact.

Olson's domestic terror group of choice was the Symbionese Liberation Army, founded in September, 1973, by escaped convict Donald De Freeze. Taking a page from the Black Panther playbook, but pushing the envelope, the SLA was never anything more than a criminal gang masquerading as a charitable force for "the people." Indeed, its first act was to murder Marcus Foster, superintendent of schools in Oakland, CA, who was brought in to clean up the district, rated as one of the worst in the country at the time. Foster was no conservative nor friend of the police, and was very much his own man. He soon ran afoul of the brutal gangs plaguing Oakland. Not one to back down, it took an SLA bullet to stop him on November 6, 1973.

Patty Hearst was kidnapped on February 2, 1974, and the spectacular Los Angeles shootout, that claimed the lives of six SLA members, occurred on May 16-17.

At this point, the scene changes back to Northern California, where Soliah joins the SLA during a rally on June 2, 1974 at Berkeley's Ho Chi Minh Park. On April 21, 1975, the SLA kills 42-year-old Myrna Opsahl, during a bank robbery. Soliah is one of the perps, according to Patty Hearst.

Finally, it is on August 21st and 22nd that Soliah plants bombs under LAPD squad cars, but they fail to explode. After that, she goes underground. At some point, she lands up in St. Paul, MN. Surely, amongst all those socialist Nordics, God love 'em, she would find a kindred spirit.

The newly minted Sara Jane Olson meets and marries an emergency room physician, Dr. Fred Peterson, but as you will note, in an act of pride, arrogance, and misguided feminism, does not take his name. She prefers, instead, to keep her fictitious handle, not even acknowledging her rescuer. This also speaks volumes about the manhood of Peterson, but that is a topic for another day.

There is little doubt that Peterson, and other friends, including state representative Andy Dawkins, knew her true identity, but being good comrades in the struggle against the capitalist bosses--while living well in upscale Highland Park--they kept quiet.

All was to fall apart on June 16, 1999 when she was arrested. Yet, Olson, drawing on her tremendous gift for mendacity, was able to convince a gaggle of friends, fools, and fellow travelers to put up a $1 million fund for her bail. She took advantage of every legal dodge and tactic available along the way, prompting some questions in the minds of her dogged supporters. If she were innocent, they wondered, why doesn't she just let this thing go to trial? Then, she pulls her October 31st surprise and pleads guilty.

However, her pathological lying may get her into even bigger trouble. Not five minutes after she pled guilty under oath, did she proclaim her innocence to the news media. Judge Larry Paul Fidler, rightfully concerned about the effect this could have on her sentencing, announced that he may reject her plea.

Some ask if 20 or more years of being an upright citizen and soccer mom make up for her criminal past. In Olson's case, the answer is no, and the reasoning is quite simple to this student of human nature:

Her intent, in August of 1975, was to murder many police officers, and only by the grace of God, did the bombs not detonate. Judge her on the intent! Moreover, when considering even the most bloodthirsty killers in human history, it is clear that there were periods in their lives of kindness and love. Nobody is a killer 24 hours a day. As far as her much publicized deeds of charity, how difficult is it for a pampered suburban housewife to perform a few acts, now and then?

Once caught, a truly repentant, changed person would have admitted her earlier guilt, and would have taken her medicine, thus inspiring mercy. But Olson is neither repentant nor changed, believing only in preserving number one. Any good that occurred while she was saving her own skin was not intentional, and should not be praised, just as a bank robber mistakenly shooting an associate while aiming at a cop, should not be praised.

With murder, selfishness, and lies in her heart always, this miserable figure of our tortured past has reached the end of the line--and not a moment too soon.

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