JACK DOWNEY ACCUSED SPY IN LIFE IMPRISONMENT IN CHINA

• Document Type: CREST
• Collection: General CIA Records
• Document Number (FOIA) /ESDN (CREST): CIA-RDP75-00149R000200410021-5
• Release Decision: RIPPUB
• Original Classification: K
• Document Page Count: 3
• Document Creation Date: December 15, 2016
• Document Release Date: November 14, 2003
• Sequence Number: 21
• Publication Date: December 8, 1960
• Content Type: MAGAZINE

the Grass
risonment. Accus
r l y 3,000 days an ren red today by only a
other waits or im in a gray house on a peace f u7
.:- .
eer unending efforts win"'n Jas freedom,' Mrs. Dowwy
,;arced Jack 17owney, living out a sentence of
languished there for the past eight
cials a by those who knew hire. His wid-
eet in New Britain, Conn. Wearied by grief
in h-er s1 doivy parlor and talks of her son:
Approved For Releaso
IWC 8 1960
-IV ;jW-4 -41
was on his wap it something about my Jack?"
, h
W
e
ar
SAID goad by to Jack Downey on t e orean
I the little station platform at Berlin, to Japan by Christmas. He has not "I think you'd better go home,
Conn., one November morning been home since. Mary' " he said quietly. I thought
nine years ago. Jack kissed me and With Jack gone, I felt very alone. something terrible must have hap-
said, "Don't worry, Mom; I'll be Bill, Jack's younger brother, was pened. I felt weak. I drove myself
back." A shudder went through me studying at Yale, and his sister Joan home. There was a telegram from
then, and although my younger son was at school. I kept busy teaching Washington telling me that, on an
tells me I was imagining, I have al- my sixth-grade class at the Lincoln airplane flight returning from Korea
ways felt it was a premonition of the Public School here in New Britain. to Japan, Jack was missing.
horrible thing that was to happen to When Jack had been overseas The next months were heart-
Jack. about a year, I received a telephone breaking. Like so many mothers in
On the day he was graduated from call at the school one morning from wartime, I clung to the hope that
Yale in June, 1951, Jack had driven a priest at St. Maurice Church across my son would turn up alive. I listened
to Washington to work as a civilian the street. He told me I should go to the news broadcasts. I waited for
employee of the Department of Dc- home right away. the mailman. I prayed.
fense. In November, he spent one The urgency in his voice fright- When the Korean armistice was
week end at home. Then, because of ened me, and I asked him, "Father, is signed, I kept hoping he coulra -
ue
Appr v Mrs ~ e~4,s h endured %( despair of thinking q1 000200410021-5
an t ien n ting a was tmpr s f1 q
 Jack Downey as he looked dressed in his high-school track
uniform and in clothes he wears in prison in Peiping.
"When I heard that my son
was alive, the world stopped."
a
-ar with the prisoners who were
returning. But there was no word of
Jack. Then the death certificate ar-
rived. It was like the closing of a
chapter.
I took the pictures and diplomas
down from the wall of his room and
gave away his clothes. I used some
of his savings to help Bill through
Yale; I knew Jack would have wanted
that. All I kept were his pictures, the
short stories he had written, the big
burly storm coat he had enjoyed so
much and a college sweater that had
been his father's before him. I
mourned my son as dead.
I had raised the three children
myself since that October afternoon
back in 1938 when their father, who
was a lawyer and judge of probate,
had been killed in an automobile ac-
cident. Jack, then only eight, read
of his father's death in the local news-
paper before I could tell him.
I had returned to teaching and
managed to scrape the boys through
Choate and Yale. They worked sum-
mers; scholarships helped. They
sere outstanding boys-happy and
opular. Brought up without a father,
they were closer than most brothers.
Jack was president of his class at
Choate and a star athlete and sang
in the glee club. His father and Mor-
ton Downey were first cousins, and
Jack, too, has a good singing voice.
His classmates voted him most re-
spected, most to be admired, most
versatile. At Yale, he wrestled and
was the regular left guard on the
'arsity football team.
`1n the Tuesday before Thanks-
1954, I went home as usual
my lunch. At one o'clock, I
' to school and went into
'ok at the bulletin board.
3ng on the principal's
le. A reporter from
the New Britain Herald was on the
line. He asked, "Are you Mrs.
Downey? Do you have a son John,
and is he in the Far East?" I told him
my son was dead. But he went on:
"A broadcast came over that the
Chinese Communists announced they
had a John T. something and that the
last name sounded like Downey."
The world stopped for me. I sat
down. I asked the reporter to repeat
what he had said. He then told me
the radio had announced that Jack
had been given a sentence of life
imprisonment.
The Chinese Communists, I learned
later, said that Jack was an "out'
standing example" of American
espionage against their country and
that he and his companions had "in-
truded into Chink to car>y,outsub
versive activities."
Our State Department replied that
the accusations were "utterly false."
It said that Jack Jiad'ieen a passen-
ger on a routine flight between Korea
and Japan; and called the sentencing
"a - violation of the Korean armistice
a grave provocation."
That Christmas,' 1 fell on the ice
and broke my pelvis. As I lay in the
hospital, a letter came from Jack-
the first word in more than two years.
"Dearest Mom, Joan and Billie:
Hi, family, how're you doing?
This is about the happiest day I've
known in two years, for now I'm
able to talk with you, even if only
through a letter. I've learned many
things about life and about myself
since I've been here and most im-
portant is how very much I love you
and how little I've ever done to show
it-especially to you, Mom, who have
thought of and. worked so hard for
us always and in all things. In my
first days of imprisonment, I found
that when I had nothing else to fall
continued
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 we agreed to obey the rules.
We were led into a second room
and were seated by 'a glass window
covered with opaque paper to keep
out the cold. In front of us was an
inlaid table. There was a stove in the
room, but I kept on my coat against
the cold.
Suddenly, the door opened, and
there was Jack. "Mom," he said. I
sprang from my seat and embraced
him. I cried, "Oh, Jack!" He said
over and over again, "Oh, Mom, it's
good to see you."
When I recovered my composure,
we sat and talked for the two hours
we were allowed. Jack looked well-
a little thinner, but it was hard to
tell under his padded Chinese jacket.
Certainly, his spirits were good, and
he never showed signs of depression
to us. He could laugh readily, as he
always did. Jack is the kind of per-
son who would say, "Well, I'm in
this situation; I might as well make
the best of it."
Jack wanted to hear about the
family, how we all were. He and Bill
talked a lot about sports. He was
mazed to see how Bill had grown
ad filled out. He said, "Mom, just
gook at him-and the voice on the
kid!" Except for a British diplomatic
representative who had been allowed
to visit him once, we were the first
a
Approved For Release 2003/102 : CIA-RDP75-00149R000200410021-5
Westerners he had talked with in five
years.
We asked to see Premier Chou
En-lai while we were in Peiping, but
were taken to see the minister of
health instead. Mrs. Redmond flew
from Shanghai to join us at the meet.
ing, and we submitted a petition ask-
ing for our sons' release.
We were permitted to visit Jack
three times a week for two hours.
For our seventh and last visit, we
were allowed to bring in food and eat
lunch with Jack and Dick Fecteau in
prison. We dashed around buying
steaks and vegetables, coffee and a
great container of ice cream, of which
Jack is so fond. The meal was a won.
derful occasion. The boys ate until
they could eat no more. Jack said
the ice cream was just like that we
made at home years ago when his
Sunday-afternoon chore was to turn
the crank. The prison officials sat in
a corner of the room, but this time I
forgot completely that they were
there.
This was the first time.I had met
Dick Fecteau. He had only been in
the Far East 'a few weeks before he
was captured. He is a bit older than
my Jack, a handsome, friendly boy.
When I had to leave Jack, it was
terrible. He walked Bill and me to,
the door of the room. I kissed him
Paul didn't like anybody."
and said, "Good-by, Jack; be a good
boy." I thought: How could you be
anything but good in prison? "Good-
by, Mom," he said over and over.
"Good-by, Mom."
Before we left Peiping, Chi Feng
of the Chinese Red Cross came to
Bill's hotel room to read us an offi-
cial reply to our earlier petition to
Premier Chou En-lai to release our
sons. We all had the feeling Chi hated
to read it; he seemed tense. "The
"I the Swiss, the French, the Italians and the English.
Premier fully understands the feel-
ings behind your appeal. But your
sons have violated Communist Chi-
nese law and must be dealt with ac-
cordingly. Therefore, the Commu-
nist Chinese Government cannot
consider your appeal. Any criminal
who behaves well may have the op-
portunity of leniency. This applies
also to your sons."
Deep inside me, I had hoped that
a miracle would happen and I would
continued
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