From the courthouse to the White House: How corruption becomes routine |
From the courthouse to the White House: How corruption becomes routine
As a young Chicago lawyer in the 1970s, I was once shaken down for a bribe by a criminal court judge, although I was too naïve to realize it at the time.
I didn’t figure it out until about eight years later, when the judge was indicted in the U.S. Justice Department’s Operation Greylord investigation. And it took decades before I appreciated the cultural connection between tawdry corruption in a Cook County courtroom and the breathtaking venality of President Trump.
My client that day was a teenager who had been caught burglarizing a garage. It was a relatively minor offense, and he was released on $100 bail.
We arrived early on his court date and looked around for the garage owner, who was nowhere to be seen. After a few hours in the overcrowded courtroom, the prosecutor — who controlled the docket — gave up hope for his witness. He signaled the clerk to call our case.
We had barely reached the bench when the prosecutor moved to dismiss “for want of prosecution.” The judge granted the motion and turned to me.
“CBR attorney,” he said. That was code, and it wasn’t a question. CBR meant “cash bond release.” The judge assumed that, like nearly all lawyers in his gritty courtroom, I had taken my client’s bond receipt as security for my fee.
As a lawyer in the Northwestern Legal Clinic, however, I didn’t take fees.
“No, Your Honor,” I replied. “CBR defendant,” meaning that my client would get his bail money back.
The judge abruptly went ballistic. “CBR defendant!” he shouted. “CBR........