Today Traficant, tomorrow the 'mob'



The vengeance with which federal prosecutors are going after the $150,000 fine that former Congressman James A. Traficant Jr. has to pay as part of his federal sentence must be keeping other Mahoning Valley crooks awake at night.
After all, the cash value of Traficant's criminal behavior during his 17 years in the U.S. House of Representatives pales in comparison to the value of, say, Mafia boss Lenine Strollo's criminal portfolio. Indeed, Traficant's self-enrichment while in public office would make him an amateur compared with former Mahoning County Prosecutor James A. Philomena.
That's why law-abiding residents of the Mahoning Valley should applaud the efforts of the Office of the United States Attorney in Cleveland in collecting all of the fruit of Traficant's poisoned tree.
The former congressman is currently serving an eight-year sentence in a federal penitentiary in Pennsylvania after being found guilty of 10 criminal charges by a jury in federal court in Cleveland. Among the charges were racketeering, bribery and tax evasion.
Racketeering, bribery and tax evasion certainly describe mob boss Strollo's almost seven decades in organized crime. Indeed, he has pleaded guilty to a racketeering charge and is awaiting sentencing. Strollo seems to have found religion and has become an important government snitch. In return for providing the feds with information about the Mafia locally and nationally, the La Cosa Nostra disciple expects to receive a relatively light prison term.
He might even get credit for the time he has already spent in custody, thus avoiding further time behind bars when he is sentenced.
But given the dogged determination by federal prosecutors to suck the lifeblood out of Traficant, it stands to reason that they would be very interested in Strollo's assets, valued at $10 million.
All mobbed up
Why? Because it's fruit from the poisoned tree. In sworn testimony, Strollo, who was aligned with the Pittsburgh Mafia family, said he began in the "business" when he was 15. He was a numbers runner. Then through hard work, dedication and self-improvement, he moved up in the organization. As he testified in open court, murder was part of his business.
Yes, murder. By contrast, Traficant was accused by the federal government of forcing members of his staff to kick back a portion of their salaries to him. He also took a $13,000 "unlawful gratuity" from Youngstown developer J.J. Cafaro and received things of value from other constituents in return for helping them maneuver through the federal bureaucracy.
Strollo, on the other hand, was one of the mainstays of organized crime and government corruption in the Valley. He made millions of dollars through his illegal businesses and dealt with his competitors the old-fashioned way: he caused them to disappear.
That's why the mob boss-turned government snitch must be having nightmares. Once the feds are done with Traficant, they will undoubtedly turn their attention to Strollo's bloody wealth.
Former Prosecutor Philomena must also be sweating bullets in light of the vengeance with which federal prosecutors are going after Traficant.
Philomena is serving a four-year sentence in a federal correctional institution after pleading guilty to racketeering. He admitted that he operated a criminal enterprise that sold justice in Mahoning County. According to lawyers who were part of the enterprise, thousands of dollars in bribes, payoffs and kickbacks exchanged hands.
And the dirtiest of hands belonged to then Prosecutor Philomena.
That he lived high off the hog during his tenure as Mahoning County's chief lawyer is no secret. His mansion at Lake Milton, his antiques, his sports car and motorcycle were all fruit of the poisoned tree.
Yet, the federal government hasn't made its move.
But there should be no doubt that the FBI, IRS and federal prosecutors will begin proceedings to strip Philomena and his family of all of the ill-gotten gains.
There are others who got rich living lives of crime. They, too, deserve to be targeted.
MATH FOR DUMMIES
When you add $203,520 to $50,000 to $7,200 you get $260,720 -- not $325,520 as was claimed in this space last week during a discussion about the compensation package that David Sweet, president of Youngstown State University, is receiving.
It certainly was unkind to make Sweet's annual salary grab worse than it is.