When then-candidate Donald Trump promised during his soon-to-be-successful presidential campaign to "drain the swamp," Arkansans had no idea some of their state lawmakers were practically bathing in the malodorous, dark waters of their own political corruption.
Real swamps consist of vibrant ecosystems of plant and animal life. They're beautiful, in their own way. They serve as water purifiers and support a wide range of life. We have, thankfully, learned that swamps come with ecological benefits and aren't something to eliminate.
What’s the point?
Greed can make political corruption look attractive, but crimes in public office erode trust among voters as well as friends and family.
Still, swamps harbor some nasty, dangerous critters that it's best for us humans to avoid. So, we do understand the value of Trump's imagery. Truth be told, though, it's the politicians who lately have given swamps an undeserved reputation. It's not the swamp that's to blame for the less desirable qualities of political animals. If our politicians are in a swamp, it's them who are fouling the waters. Government isn't a swamp, but its powers prove an enticing lure to human predators who view it as a place to satisfy their baser instincts.
In the last two weeks, Arkansans have seen in grim detail the consequences those political predators face -- and should -- when they venture into the swamp. U.S. District Court Judge Timothy L. Brooks used his authority not just to punish the guilty, but to also set a clear example for those who in the future might entertain thoughts of abusing the public's trust.
Former state Sen. Jon Woods, a Republican from Springdale, was sentenced to 18 years in federal prison for his role in a scheme to sell his influence and the powers of his public office. He must also pay $1.6 million in restitution and forfeit $1 million in assets to the federal government.
A jury found Woods guilty in May of 15 charges related to kickbacks from state grants he approved. "You were playing chess at a very high level, thinking three or four or five moves ahead," Brooks told Woods. "This wasn't a case of someone offering you a chance to make easy money and you taking it."
Beyond that, Woods was willing to rent out his legislative duties, writing bills for the benefit of himself rather than his constituents. When one $400,000 grant didn't work out and was returned, Woods went to work reallocating it into a scheme to make himself more money, the judge said.
"Your immediate, almost reflexive response was to re-steal the same money," Brooks said. "I find that amazing. I find that a great insight into the depravity of your heart."
Randell Shelton Jr., who aided in Woods' scheme, was next up. He pleaded for leniency, hoping for house arrest so he might watch his newborn child grow. Brooks said deterrence demanded a price: six years in prison and more than $1.2 million in restitution and forfeited assets.
Then, it was Oren Paris III's turn. Paris was the president of Ecclesia College in Springdale, a small private Christian school that in 2013 and 2014 received $550,000 in grants directly from Woods and Neal. Eight other lawmakers -- at Woods' or Neal's urging -- committed another $165,500 to the school. Paris passed some of the money back to Woods and Neal through Shelton's business. Brooks ordered Paris, who changed his innocent plea to guilty the day before his trial was to begin, to spend three years in prison.
Then, Micah Neal's sentencing arrived Thursday. Brooks gave him credit, lots of credit, for his cooperation with authorities in securing convictions of the others. Prosecutors wanted to send a message: If you're guilty of a crime but come forward immediately and truthfully assist in bringing others to justice, there's a benefit.
Neal will spend the next year confined to his home for everything but work, church and medical needs. Two years of probation will follow, but he avoided jail time. Repayment of $200,000 will be required along with 300 hours of community service.
All these men are now convicted felons.
The actions of these four men, and others, have put a dark cloud over Arkansas state government. In the process, they've also brought pain to people who trusted them, whether it's family and friends or voters who believed in them and put them in the positions of responsibility they abused.
None of these men had just a momentary slip mitigated by temporary weakness. Theirs was a complex scheme involving the orchestration of a lot of moving parts. Every day it lasted, they renewed their choices to defraud Arkansas taxpayers.
The ripples of corruption continue to spread. Five former state lawmakers have pleaded guilty to either misusing state grant funds, accepting bribes or both since Neal's January 2017 plea. Another, Sen. Jeremy Hutchinson of Little Rock, was indicted for filing a false tax return and using campaign funds for personal use. Two lobbyists and three former executives of companies that received favorable state treatment in return for kickbacks have also entered guilty pleas.
What a horrible, sad era of corruption in Arkansas politics. There's plenty of reason to believe the repercussions will continue as investigations continue.
We're thankful for the federal prosecutors. Had all this been left to Arkansas authorities, Woods might still be in the Senate, Neal might be Washington County Judge and the influence-peddling schemes might still be undetected.
Perhaps most heartbreaking is the massive impact their greed has had. The tentacles of their scam, along with the acts of other unprincipled people entangled in a broader level of corruption, reach far beyond their own families in their adverse influences.
Preferred Family Healthcare was Arkansas' major behavioral health provider, but announced this month it will cease all operations by October as a result of the corruption scandals in this state and others. The business brought in more than $33 million a year through its Arkansas Medicaid contracts, but the state ended those once the fraudulent practices became clear and led to prosecutions of company executives as well as Arkansas lawmakers. Dishonesty and greed that individual lawmakers and others somehow justified to themselves have disrupted a huge portion of state-supported medical care in Arkansas.
Neal was the first Arkansas lawmaker to admit guilt and he cooperated with investigators. That's why he avoided prison time. But how much money would have ever made the scheme worth the damage it has done to his reputation and the harm to his family and friends? Same goes for Woods, Paris and Shelton.
"Strange, isn't it? Each man's life touches so many other lives. When he isn't around he leaves an awful hole, doesn't he?" asked Clarence, the 292-year-old Angel Second Class hoping to earn his wings in It's A Wonderful Life.
George Bailey, in that movie, had lost faith in himself and all the good he had done.
The people involved in this Arkansas political corruption represent a kind of anti-George Bailey. Unlike him, they lost their way and chose the wrong paths. And yet every man's life touches so many other lives.
"Your honor, I will spend the rest of my life trying to redeem myself," Neal told the judge last week.
Those sentiments are heard a lot in state and federal courtrooms. We hope he's sincere and the rest seek redemption as well. By their actions, though, they've made it harder for the people to trust their elected representatives. They've damaged more than just themselves; their corrupt behaviors have scarred our public institutions.
Commentary on 09/16/2018