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Small-state politicians argue that every state, no matter how underpopulated, needs a boost of money to achieve a minimal level of security after Sept. 11. "Whether it's a state of half a million or 4 million, you've got to do certain basic things," Senator Leahy told Secretary of Homeland Security Tom Ridge during a February hearing. Says Doug Friez, the top homeland-security official in North Dakota (pop. 642,200), which received $52 a person in federal funds last year, the fourth highest per-capita allocation by state: "We realize North Dakota may not be first on Osama bin Laden's list. But we have some significant infrastructure, we have big buildings you can put a lot of people in at one time, we have the border. We have all the things that can make a terrorist stay." New Hampshire, the No. 9 state recipient of funds per capita, is not easily outdone. "Yes, New York City is more target rich," says Bruce Cheney, director of New Hampshire's bureau of emergency management. "But there's been a lot of added security there. If you're a terrorist, you may say, Why waste your time in New York City when you can make a hell of a mess in Maryland or Delaware or, God forbid, Portsmouth, New Hampshire?" Says Flynn: "Everybody's become Tom Clancy."
It would be ideal if every American town had a basic level of readiness, but the total pot of money is too small, says Tim Ransdell. He authored one of the few comprehensive assessments of homeland-security money on behalf of the Public Policy Institute of California. "Wyoming and South Dakota are important states, but it's a bit counterintuitive to say an individual in those states is manyfold more important than someone living in a state that has a border with a foreign nation, some of the nation's icons and almost half of the nation's containerized cargo." Says Al O'Leary of the New York City Patrolmen's Benevolent Association: "It goes against every fundamental precept of fighting crime. If you're having a robbery pattern in a particular community, you put detectives there. It's actually a no-brainer, but there's apparently no brain in Washington, D.C."
--WYOMING: A CASE STUDY
To its credit, Wyoming, the least populous state in the U.S., does not feel like an ideal place for a terrorist attack. The 493,800 people who live here have a well-deserved affection for the state's yawning prairie land, framed by mountains and speckled with elk, antelope and mule deer. Wyoming's biggest city is Cheyenne, the capital, which is still not serviced by jet liners. "It's very hard to hide in Wyoming," says Joe Moore, head of Wyoming's office of homeland security, on my first morning in town. "By the end of the day, everyone will know you're here."
Like most rural states, Wyoming does not have a lot of money from property taxes to outfit its police, fire and emergency-services personnel. On top of that, the legislature has never been too generous. Until recently, it wasn't unusual for a fire station to hold a bake sale to raise money. Last summer, after a vintage World War II--era German bomber crashed into a building in Cheyenne, fire, ambulance and airport personnel could not talk to one another over their radios because they use different equipment. "We eventually ended up sending runners--like the Greeks," says Brian Grimm, communications officer for the state office of homeland security.