Photo by Travis Pratt Diane Ivins speaks with authorities Friday afternoon at her home at in Frederick, just outside the gates of Fort Detrick.

Friday, the government had little to say about him, following his apparent suicide and media reports that the FBI was preparing to charge him with the 2001 anthrax mailings.

Ivins was a Frederick resident who worked at the U.S. Army Medical Research Institute of Infectious Diseases, was a member of St. John Evangelical Catholic Church and a volunteer with the American Red Cross.

He once said he taught himself to juggle to correct his nature as "a complete klutz."

The Justice Department had little comment on reports in the Los Angeles Times that the FBI was about to charge him for the 2001 anthrax mailings that left five people dead and more than a dozen injured.

It said only that progress had been made in the anthrax investigation, and that it anticipated releasing more details in the near future.

In an e-mailed statement, USAMRIID spokeswoman Caree Vander Linden wrote that the institute is mourning the loss of Ivins, who served there for more than 35 years as a civilian microbiologist. She had no further statement regarding the anthrax investigation other than it is ongoing.

Paul Kemp, a Rockville attorney who has been representing Ivins for more than a year, said in a written statement Friday that his client was innocent, and that he was disappointed not to have the opportunity to prove that in court.

"The relentless pressure of accusation and innuendo takes its toll in different ways on different people," the statement read. "In Dr. Ivins' case, it led to his untimely death."

Last month, the government exonerated Steven Hatfill, another Fort Detrick scientist who investigators had publicly named as a "person of interest" in 2002.

Hatfill filed a lawsuit claiming he had been falsely accused of and been made a scapegoat for the crimes, and the government paid him $5.82 million to settle the case.

"The FBI wants to speak to the victims' families first, and I want to respect that process," said Thomas Connolly, Hatfill's lawyer. "Today is not the appropriate time to comment. I want to give these families time to have comfort."

Ivins' family declined to comment when The News-Post reached them at home.

A dark end

The final weeks of Ivins' life were marked by allegations he made violent and homicidal threats, hospital evaluations, being removed from Fort Detrick by police officers and a court appearance, according to court documents and police.

Jean C. Duley filed for a peace order against him July 24 in Frederick County District Court, accusing him of stalking, threats and harassment. A temporary peace order was granted the same day.

A peace order may be filed by individuals who are being harassed or stalked and/or their property is being maliciously destroyed or trespassed on by a stranger, neighbor or acquaintance, according to the state Board of Victim Services. The order will be granted if the court finds clear and convincing evidence that the accused committed and is likely to commit acts against the individual in the future.

"Dr. David Irwin, his psychiatrist, called him homicidal, sociopathic with clear intentions," the document states. "Will testify with other details."

According to a recording at the Shady Grove Psychiatric Group, Irwin is out of the office until Monday. A message left was not returned.

The document goes on to state that Ivins had made "homicidal threats, actions, plans, threats and actions towards therapist" and has a history of threats dating back to his graduate days.

A spokeswoman for the University of Cincinnati, where Ivins received three degrees, had no information to that effect.

Duley, 45, also told the court she had been subpoenaed to testify before a federal grand jury Friday, according to court documents.

"FBI involved, currently under investigation and will be charged with five capital murders," she stated in court documents.

"As of this point, we don't have a comment," said Mary McGuirk Drawbaugh, an attorney with Martz, Fisher, & Drawbaugh, LLC in Frederick who represents Duley.

Drawbaugh wouldn't say how the two knew each other.

At Duley's Williamsport home in Washington County, a man who identified himself only as Duley's husband called her a hero and said she would have no comment until the FBI completed its investigation.

Ivins made threats over a three-day period from July 9 to 11, the document states.

On July 10, officers were called to check the welfare of Ivins at USAMRIID at Fort Detrick, said Lt. Clark Pennington of the Frederick Police Department. An officer determined he needed to be evaluated, and he was taken to Frederick Memorial Hospital.

Police did not need to use excessive force to take Ivins off the Army post, he said.

"There is a very brief report stating that the escort of the officers was performed, but few details are included and the report itself has not yet been finalized," said Chuck Gordon, Public Affairs Officer for Fort Detrick in an e-mail.

Ivins was later transferred to Sheppard Pratt Health System, a psychiatric hospital in Baltimore, the document states. While at Sheppard Pratt, he was to have a commitment hearing on July 16, but he signed himself in voluntarily, which meant he could leave when he wished.

Calls left with Sheppard Pratt and FMH public information officers were not returned Friday.

Vander Linden said people have to go through a rigorous process that includes background checks and medical examinations before they are given access to USAMRIID's biocontainment suites, but she said she was not sure if that process includes psychological examinations.

The temporary peace order instructed Ivins not to abuse or contact Duley or go to her home or job.

He never made it to the final hearing, which was set for Thursday.

About 1:15 a.m. Sunday, Frederick County Emergency Communications received a medical emergency call from Ivins' 622 Military Road home, said Lt. Shawn Martyak of the Frederick Police Department. Officials found Ivins unresponsive on the floor in a room in his home.

At the time when officers were called, nothing indicated the medical emergency was a suicide, he said.

The department was notified Tuesday afternoon by Frederick Memorial Hospital officials that Ivins, 62, had died, Martyak said. Officials from the Office of the Chief Medical Examiner told the department they were taking a look at the case.

The department is conducting a death investigation, which is the standard procedure regarding suicides.

A final report from the Office of the Chief Medical Examiner is not expected for several weeks, he said.

Besides being called on July 10 and July 27, the department was called to Ivins' home one other time this year, Pennington said. Officers were assisting fire and rescue officials on a call for an unconscious person, but he did not know if that individual was Ivins.

Another side

While Ivins may have been battling demons in his personal life, he showed a different side when he was in public.

He was a volunteer with the American Red Cross Frederick Chapter since 2001 and helped with disaster services and community disaster education, said Keith Roberson, a member of the executive board for the organization.

Ivins actively participated in chapter and disaster services meetings, he said.

"He was a very dedicated volunteer," Roberson said.

Ivins also was a parishioner at St. John the Evangelist Roman Catholic Church in Frederick where he was a musician for many years during church services.

Calls to the Rev. Richard Murphy were not returned, and a visit to his home for comment was unsuccessful.

William Meadors, who played in a band with Ivins, remembered his musical talents.

"He could play anything on the piano," Meadors said. "My impression of him -- he was very intelligent guy and seemed very personable."

Meadors, of Braddock Heights, worked at USAMRIID, but not directly with Ivins. He believes Ivins could have collapsed under the pressure of the FBI's investigation.

Meadors was shocked to hear a therapist noted Ivins' homicidal tendencies.

He said he doesn't believe Ivins was involved in the attack and is concerned the investigation will come to an end because of the suicide.

"It'll be interesting to see what comes of all this," he said. "Whether he's guilty or he isn't, it's a tragedy."

Frederick reacts

Neighbors Natalie Duggan and her mother, Bonnie Duggan, described Ivins as "the kind of person who would go out of his way to lend a hand."

They said they had no idea he was under FBI surveillance.

"I'd frequently see [the FBI's] cars ... they had blacked-out windows. It was kind of freaky," Natalie Duggan said. "We were kind of wondering what the deal is. We would see Bruce, but we never thought it was him."

The news of his suicide saddened them both. "It is just a very sad day," Bonnie Duggan said. "I never suspected him of any wrongdoing whatsoever, he always was a straight arrow."

A former employee at Fort Detrick whose son lives in Ivins' neighborhood, Bob Newton, came over to look at Ivins' house Friday afternoon.

Newton said he remembered how lax security had been when he was stationed at the Army post in the 1970s.

"I was located in building right next to the 8-ball where they did a lot of experiments on monkeys, chemicals, all that stuff," he said. "I hate to say it, but back then, stuff came in and out of this gate."

Even though security has gotten tighter, "it did not surprise me one bit to learn the source of the anthrax was Fort Detrick," he said.

Newton said that when he worked in the labs, procedures were in place to ensure some degree of safety through record-keeping. Given that, he believes if something was amiss, someone had to have noticed.

"The anthrax had to be locked up, it had to be," Newton said.

The most logical explanation Newton can think of for why someone might have done this illegal act was emotional.

"Something got to him," Newton said. "I don't think it was a conspiracy."

Russell Byrne worked with Ivins in USAMRIID's bacteriology division. Byrne, who retired from Fort Detrick about four years ago, said he believes Ivins was living under pressure, being plagued by the FBI.

Federal agents had raided Ivins' home twice and threatened his job, Byrne said. The cost of lawyers was also likely putting Ivins under financial strain.

Byrne remembers working with Ivins and described an example of his eccentric behavior -- when a co-worker retired or found a new job, Ivins was quick to put together a clever song or poem for that person.

"Everybody just loved Bruce," Byrne said.

Byrne said he doesn't believe Ivins was involved in the anthrax attacks. He said he wonders how it is that the culprits haven't been identified after seven years of investigation.

"I can't imagine what it would take to convince me (that Ivins was involved)," Byrne said. "It's unimaginable to me that he had anything to do with the attacks."

Byrne's wife, Ellen Byrne, remembered Ivins from company get-togethers. She recalled his sense of humor.

"He would sing songs, make up songs," she said. "He was a nice guy, just always very upbeat and funny."

Staff writers Pam Rigaux, Sarah Fortney and Karen Gardner contributed to this article.