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I like to make the joke that the Feds are just around the corner because Big Brother is always watching. But did you know, for 24 years, a former FBI agent called McKenzie home?
Leslie Arlie Haugen was born January 14, 1916, to Herman and Rebecca Haugen in Mobridge, South Dakota. His father and mother were of Norwegian descent. Herman worked in the lumber industry, and Les wanted to experience more in life than just back-breaking labor like his father.
Les graduated high school with honors and received a football scholarship from the University of South Dakota. In 1939, he earned his law degree and had dreams of working for the FBI. Friends and family told the lanky 6’3’’ graduate to seek employment at a law firm. They told him, “The FBI will never hire a boy from a small town like Ipswich. You’d better forget that FBI stuff.”
Les was determined to prove his naysayers wrong and applied anyway. At the time, there were only 650 men employed as FBI agents. One day he received a call telling him to report for an interview in Aberdeen, South Dakota. There were 20 other hopeful applicants from North and South Dakota in the room. After the interview, he was told to stay close to a telephone.
He later received a call with instructions to report to the Ward Hotel and interview a “Mr. Fletcher” about a stolen car. Les returned to the FBI field office and wrote up the report. He learned he and one other man were chosen for a position in the FBI.
Les was then instructed to go for a physical examination. Two weeks later, he received a telegram the length of a legal sized sheet of paper advising him of his appointment and instructing him to report to Washington, D.C. There was a section in the telegram advising him to keep his appointment confidential. The telegram had come through the railroad station and by the time it got to Les, everyone in town knew about his appointment.
On October 2, 1939, the Number 17 train called the “Flyer” made a stop in Ipswich picking up the young Les Haugen who was wearing his one pair of shoes, his one suit, hat and topcoat, and a very small suitcase with the rest of his clothing.
He recalled it raining when the train pulled into the station in Washington, D.C. and he thought to himself that he was “in a mighty big place for a country boy.” With no knowledge of the area, he took a cab to a hotel near the Justice Building.
He began five weeks of training in Washington. From there, he moved to Quantico, Virginia for firearms training. The “recruits” lived in green Marine barracks. After completing the training course, they had to qualify to continue the training. Les remarked in a 1983 interview that “a couple of fellows didn’t make it and were sent home.”
While finishing the program, the young men had been observed by inspectors who called each one aside and pointed out things they needed to work on before going on to their first assignment.