Stolen bicentennial flag returned to JJC — 35 years later

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Joliet native Brian Carney (right) presents a U.S. flag to Henry Pillard (far left) as Joliet Junior College Dean of Students Cyndi Vasquez-Barrios (center) watches at Joliet Junior College Wednesday, Dec. 7, 2011, at 1215 Houbolt Rd. in Joliet. Carney was a Joliet Catholic graduate that was home for the summer from college when he and a group of men stole two flags in 1976, and Pillard was dean of students at the time. | Matthew Grotto~Sun-Times Media

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Updated: January 10, 2012 8:22AM

JOLIET — When young people play “Capture the Flag”, the souvenir usually is returned after the game.

For Brian Carney, it took 35 years.

In the summer of 1976, Carney, then 20, and three friends decided to celebrate the nation’s bicentennial by sneaking onto the Joliet Junior College campus one night and stealing the American and bicentennial flags from the pole near a creek that runs through campus.

Their mission was a complete success. The four men were not caught nor ever identified by police.

Instead of moving on to bigger scores, one became a doctor, one a lawyer, one a teacher, and, in Carney’s case, an insurance agent. They have kept in touch and every few years pass the banners between themselves.

“But I’ve been thinking a lot about what I did and it’s bothered me,” Carney said. “I didn’t really lose a lot of sleep over this, but I know what we did was wrong.”

On Wednesday, Carney sought “some redemption.” He went back to the campus to publicly surrender the flags.

The crime

Carney was a tennis standout at Joliet Catholic High School and spent much of the 1970s coaching and playing at Joliet Junior College. He also spent a lot of time hanging out with Robert Stephen Jr., and the two other men, who asked not to be identified.

“I think it was July or August when we decided we needed to go on ‘a mission’ to commemorate the bicentennial,” Carney said. After talking it over and deciding on their target, they dressed in dark clothing, blackened their faces and got a metal rowboat that Carney’s neighbors let him borrow whenever he wanted.

“We held it on the roof of the station wagon with our arms as we drove to Houbolt Road,” Carney said. “We didn’t want the security guard to see our car, so we decided to come in from the creek.”

The amateur commandos made a mistake dressing in shorts in the hot weather. It felt as though the bean field they had to carry the boat through had cut their legs to ribbons.

As the hours passed, the four paddled onto campus and approached the flagpole, atop a hill near the large glass windows of the “C” building corridor.

One of the intruders had a sprained ankle and stayed behind to hold the boat. Another went up on the grass to act as a lookout.

“Robert and I ‘G.I. Joe-ed’ our way up the hill to the pole,” Carney said. “There was a security guard walking back and forth by the plate windows, so I watched him while Robert would let the flag down.”

Not wanting the motion to attract attention, Carney would signal Stephen to stop lowering the flags whenever the guard came by. While it took some time to lower both flags, the guard never appeared suspicious.

“It took us all night, but we got back in the boat, got back to the car and came home,” Carney said.

But Carney’s father still was awake and wondered what his blackened and bloody son had been up to.

“I told him about it. I was an adult, so he let me stand on my own decisions, but I could tell he was disappointed in me. That was when I first realized I’d done something wrong,” Carney said.

Growing up

Carney said he’s never been proud of getting away with his crime, but he and his friends have enjoyed sharing the mementoes of their youth over the past 35 years — shipping them back and forth across the country every six or seven years.

But a few years ago, Carney, now retired and living in Texas, started feeling some guilt and thought about returning them.

“I was just going to send them back with a note, but then I thought I could do this (publicly) to show people, especially college students, that it’s never too late to right a wrong,” Carney said. “There’s nothing wrong with messing up if you try and fix it, and if this makes one person realize that about something in your life, then it’s worth it for me to do this.”

Carney wanted to make amends, but first asked The Herald News to contact police to verify he would not face prosecution if he identified himself. JJC Police Chief Pete Comanda said the statute of limitations for misdemeanor theft had long since passed, and there was no interest in pursuing charges against Carney, who is back in the area visiting relatives.

Last weekend, Carney, Stephen and their two accomplices spent the evening at a local restaurant and agreed it was time to return the flags, but not before they posed for a final group photo with them.

Surrender

Carney returned Wednesday afternoon to the scene of the crime and was surprised both at what has changed and what has stayed the same after 31/2 decades.

Hank Pillard, who was dean of students in 1976, has long since retired but agreed to accept the flags on behalf of the college. Pillard likely would have been asked to weigh in on the punishment if Carney and his friends had been caught.

“I remember streaking on campus was our biggest concern at the time,” Pillard said. “And pranks such as this weren’t uncommon.”

Instead of slapping cuffs on Carney, Comanda recalled a similar misdemeanor from his own youth and wondered how he could apologize to the owners of a long-closed restaurant.

Standing in front of the flagpole, Carney handed Pillard and Comanda the flags he took 35 years ago.

“What I did was wrong and I’m sorry that I stole them,” Carney said.

“Apology accepted,” Pillard replied immediately. “While (taking them) showed a lack of character sometimes found in young people, there is an uncommon excellence in returning them.”

The flags, which appear to be in great shape, then were handed to communications director Kelly Rohder, who said the college library will find display space for them.

“Do you feel better now?” JJC Foundation executive director Kristin Mulvey asked Carney.

“Yeah,” he said, smiling. “Actually, I do.”