Pentagon’s records mix-up leads to vault of info

The Pentagon recently sent me someone else’s request for Top Secret material.

The document, from John Greenewald Jr. of Castaic, Calif., sought emails from 2007 to 2010 between senior officials, including the former director of National Intelligence, James Clapper, who at the time was the under secretary of defense for intelligence.

Greenewald, 42, asked for classified and unclassified discussions about the controversial “Advanced Aerospace Threat Identification Program” that studied unexplained aerial phenomena, formerly known as UFOs.

Greenewald, who runs an outfit called the Black Vault (more on that in a bit), had made the request under the Freedom of Information Act in 2021. The problem is the Pentagon included his info in a response to one of my FOIA requests — also filed in 2021.

Turns out that manilla envelope carrying the military’s mistake also held a better story than another instance of bureaucratic inefficiency.

First a note about the Freedom of Information Act, which gives the public the right to request records from federal agencies. The law mandates specific timelines and requires disclosure of information unless the material falls under exemptions for privacy, national security or law enforcement concerns.

Responses vary across agencies and subjects, and those who file FOIA requests never know when or if they’ll hear back. Frequent FOIA filers speak of yearslong waits, full pages of redactions, over-use of exemptions and an overburdened system.

Many journalists have collections of FOIA requests waiting in limbo. So, when I opened that envelope from DOD’s Freedom of Information Division late last month, I wasn’t surprised to see that it pertained to a request I’d filed on Oct. 26, 2021.

The request dealt with the Pentagon’s purging of publicly released material from its websites during the final withdrawal from Afghanistan.

The form letter stated the agency is processing my request along with its “current workload of approximately 3,496 requests.” However, “due to the passage of time and changing needs of requesters,” they wondered if I was no longer interested in the documents.

Yes, I still want the records. The details of my request should have accompanied the letter, but instead I received Greenewald’s info. He seemed to know what he was talking about, and that company name, “The Black Vault,” intrigued me.

It didn’t take long to learn that Greenewald is a grizzled FOIA fighter who has hammered the feds with more than 10,000 requests since he was 15. He’s amassed more than 3.4 million government documents and archived them on his website, which he considers the “largest privately run online repository of declassified government documents.”

Greenewald has hundreds of thousands of followers across his social media channels. He hosts podcasts and livestreams, has worked on television shows and has written books on government secrecy, especially UFOs.

“I advocate for just sharing everything 100 percent across the board for free, online,” he said. “So that’s what I’ve done.”

Greenewald wasn’t surprised when I told him about the apparent mix-up.

“They mean well, but yeah, make mistakes often,” he told me. “Sadly, I’ve gotten some releases over the years for something that was meant for somebody else.”

Greenewald’s FOIA adventures have taught him patience and perseverance. More than a few of his requests have taken a decade, but his record wait time is 14 and a half years.

The Pentagon receives tens of thousands of FOIA requests each year, more than 54,000 in 2022 alone.

The FOIA action officer at the Pentagon acknowledged someone made a “slight mix-up” and apologized on behalf of the organization. I’m not identifying him here because I still want those documents someday. Mistakes happen, and I appreciated his candor.

Greenewald’s query was more interesting than mine anyway. I’m glad it found its way to me.

Now, I’ve got some FOIA requests to file.