Staff Reports
Nothing says “business as usual” quite like a bag of cocaine making its grand debut at the White House, and no one seems to appreciate the irony of that more than Kimberly Cheatle, the former director of the Secret Service. Following the infamy of the now-notorious baggie found in July 2023, Cheatle’s desire to sweep the incident under the rug has raised eyebrows and questions about the competency and integrity of the Secret Service itself.
Reports indicate that Cheatle had her heart set on destroying the incriminating evidence. Instead, she was met with the distinct frustration of officials who objected to her plan. Sources suggest that the decision not to destroy the baggie agitated Cheatle to no end. It’s almost as if the Secret Service had stumbled upon a secret stash worthy of an episode from a reality series, yet they decided to close the case faster than a toddler dropping their ice cream on the pavement. Ironically, this lackluster investigation might have put Cheatle’s reputation in hotter water than the illicit drug itself.
Ex-Secret Service Director Kimberly Cheatle Was Furious When She Didn't Get Her Way in White House Cocaine Investigation: Report via @WestJournalism https://t.co/Tdm16mNbzp
— ConservativeLibrarian (@ConserLibrarian) August 6, 2024
The investigation into the rogue bag of cocaine barely took eleven days, before being shut down without a sniff of accountability or direction. With the Secret Service claiming that tracking down the culprit was an impossible feat, the only thing more laughable than that is the fact that the same agency had no trouble rounding up individuals at the Capitol on January 6 for merely being in the vicinity. The discrepancy in their diligence begs the question: are they really just looking out for the Biden family, or is there something else afoot?
Paranoia over the cocaine wasn’t unwarranted. The baggie prompted emergency protocols, leading to an evacuation of the White House. This emergency response, however, couldn’t help but lead to a media frenzy, with the identity of the owner remaining a well-kept secret for far too long. Indeed, if the same protocol had been followed by the ever-so-protective details of the First Family, the illicit parcel likely would’ve vanished faster than a high school diploma on a snow day.
Consider the context: first son Hunter Biden’s history with drugs is practically a soap opera. His track record raises eyebrows, but the Secret Service seems to run an organization more effective at dodging accountability than anything else. With Cheatle closely linked to Jill Biden and accusations swirling around the drug scandal, one has to wonder if her time came with a family endorsement or if she simply flubbed her way into a job that now seems more suited for a game of dodgeball.
Cheatle’s new legacy isn’t exactly golden, especially as two national embarrassments—the cocaine affair and a near-assassination of Donald Trump—play out under her watch. As the Secret Service dabbles in damage control, public confidence hangs by a thread, and the agency’s credibility lies in shambles. Now, in the aftermath of an investigation that seemed to want to disappear as quickly as the cocaine, Cheatle’s image is in freefall, and it’s hard not to root for cleaner house cleaning.
