FBI Official Leaves Office
James Dennehy, the now-former head of the FBI’s New York office, strutted out of his post this week with bagpipes blaring, colleagues sobbing, and a sendoff fit for a conquering war hero. The only problem? He wasn’t a hero. He was forced to resign.
In an act of peak self-importance, Dennehy—who just last month vowed to “dig in” against the Trump administration’s efforts to clean house at the FBI—was instead handed two choices: resign or be fired. He took the former, though not before staging one of the most over-the-top farewell performances imaginable.
James Dennehy refused to hand evidence to the AG. He violated the Hatch Act. And sent emails misrepresenting his military service to subordinates.
No surprise that he believes this is a classy exit. https://t.co/Qsudtxrw2T
— Steve Friend (@RealStevefriend) March 7, 2025
Let’s be clear: this wasn’t a long-serving lawman retiring with dignity after decades of honorable service. This was a man who made a grand public spectacle of his own downfall, complete with misty-eyed subordinates and the solemn wail of the bagpipes. It was less of a resignation and more of an audition for the Resistance Hall of Fame.
Dennehy’s dramatic exit comes just days after Attorney General Pam Bondi ordered the release of the full Epstein files—a move long resisted by the very agency Dennehy ran. Coincidence? Maybe. Maybe not. Hot Air’s John Sexton raised a fair question: “Did the FBI deliver a lot more material to Bondi, and did Patel or someone in his office determine it had been withheld by Dennehy?” Given the timing, it’s a possibility worth considering.
BREAKING: The head of FBI field office in New York, James Dennehy, has just been forced to resign his post. He claims he was not given a reason why, but the Department of Justice has accused his office of refusing to hand over a trove of Epstein documents to Attorney General… pic.twitter.com/jBdSBrwMH0
— Charlie Kirk (@charliekirk11) March 3, 2025
What we do know is that Dennehy had become a full-throated opponent of the Trump administration’s efforts to reform the FBI. His farewell letter, dripping with self-righteousness, framed his ousting as some noble sacrifice rather than a long-overdue housecleaning.
“I will never stop defending this joint,” he declared, presumably as the echoes of his bagpipe tribute faded into the distance.
Perhaps he should have spent more time defending the rule of law and less time playing Resistance fan-fiction. Because if reports are true that documents were withheld from the Epstein case, then no amount of teary goodbyes or bagpipe wails will change the fact that real victims—of real crimes—were the ones who never got their justice.
Dennehy’s FBI tenure may have ended with an over-the-top display of self-pity, but the real tragedy here isn’t his departure—it’s the people whose cases were ignored, delayed, or buried while he was busy “digging in.”