TRAFICANT ON TRIAL Ex-top aide says he's still in shock
The worst the former chief of staff expected was that his ex-boss had used barter to pay for farm work.
By PATRICIA MEADE
VINDICATOR CRIME REPORTER
CLEVELAND -- The drug U.S. Rep. James A. Traficant Jr. craves is national press exposure and so, on some perverse level, he's savoring his racketeering trial, says one who should know.
"For the three days I was there, I got the impression that, somehow, he's enjoying being back in the limelight," said Paul P. Marcone, the congressman's press secretary and chief of staff until November 2000.
"He loves national attention; maybe it's like a narcotic. When you get a taste of that national press, you want more. I don't see how it does him any good at all, how it does his family any good at all, for him to be on 'Hannity & amp; Colmes' sounding off about his trial," Marcone said. "All he's going to do is p--- the judge off even more -- which doesn't help unless in a perverse way he wants to get convicted or play the victim."
Marcone said whatever Traficant did, it was always done for a calculated reason. There always was a "method to his madness," Marcone said, speaking from experience.
Playing it up: Marcone remembers how Traficant's love affair with the national press began, sometime in the late 1980s. Marcone wrote a statement for his boss and compared three players in the Iran-Contra scandal to Moe, Curly and Larry, the Three Stooges.
The statement got laughs on the House floor and was picked up by CNN. Traficant realized that if he was witty, funny and outrageous he could get national attention and began writing his one-minute speeches with that goal, Marcone said.
Why did the speeches get so bizarre? To stand out from the crowd, to get more media attention, Marcone said.
Over the years, the trademark one-minute speeches started to sound like a broken record of the "same old schtick," Marcone said. He recalled a few recycled lines: "So stupid they could throw themselves at the ground and miss," "Internal Rectal Service" and "Shove this ...."
The lines heard so often on the House floor are now being used by Traficant in his trial, Marcone said, not sure of the impact.
Traficant, of Poland, D-17th, faces 10 counts, including racketeering, bribery, obstruction of justice and tax evasion. In essence, the government said he used his position for personal gain, including kickbacks, free improvements and labor at his Greenford horse farm.
'In shock': Marcone, back home in Virginia, says he feels emotionally drained by his time on the witness stand last week. He's disillusioned, troubled and, at 41, feels betrayed by the 60-year-old man he came to think of as a father figure.
"I continue to be in shock," said Marcone, now a lobbyist with Russ Reid.
The congressman's former chief of staff testified without immunity.
Marcone, following the trial via online news coverage, said he found the two most damaging witnesses to be Anthony R. Bucci and R. Allen Sinclair. Bucci is a retired contractor who said he "owned" the congressman, and Sinclair is a Boardman personal injury lawyer who said he kicked back half his congressional salary each month.
Traficant grumbled, through his questions to Bucci, that the contractor had charged $25 per hour for labor at the horse farm. The work, reportedly never paid for, took place after Traficant had helped Bucci negotiate a union deal.
"He doesn't get it. As a United States congressman, if he helped that company out, he shouldn't have had it do work at his farm, no matter what they were charging him," Marcone said. "To me, he's playing right into the prosecution's argument that he was expecting this company to give him a break because he helped them with a union contract. Maybe that'll go right over the head of the jury, but to me, it was 'Oh, my God.'"
Even if just some of the charges are true, Marcone says it's like finding out that your father cheated on your mother for 30 years with many different women.
"I was shocked and shook by the scope of the indictment and prayed the charges weren't true. I still pray for Jim Traficant, but the trial has unfolded, and I looked at the congressman's demeanor throughout the whole thing," Marcone said. "He never ever specifically dissected the charges and said, 'That never happened, this is what happened.'"
Feels used: Marcone said he's proud of what he did while on the congressman's staff but now feels used. He said if the charges stick, Traficant benefited personally from all the hard work the staff did for certain contractors, such as Bucci and Bernard J. Bucheit.
Bucheit is under indictment, accused of bribing the congressman.
"It's troubling to see how he's questioning the witnesses," Marcone said. "He's tacitly admitting, 'Yeah, they did do this work.' "
Marcone said his wife, Denise, was disturbed that Traficant "never even apologized, never said, 'Sorry you have to go through this'" when the grand jury subpoena arrived in early 2000. The family decided to hire a lawyer, and Marcone thought, "all because of Jim Traficant."
As Marcone entered the grand jury room, he felt like a traitor, then thought: "I'm going to testify truthfully, and if Jim Traficant has done nothing wrong then he has nothing to fear from my truthful testimony."
Traficant, though, tried to coach him, Marcone testified -- which he found upsetting.
Once inside the grand jury, the questions gave a hint of the government's case. Before the trial began, the worst he'd expected to hear was that Traficant had used barter to pay for work at the farm and kept sloppy records.
"Kickbacks, that was totally alien. I just didn't think that was possible," he said, recalling Sinclair's trial testimony.
Contradictions: Marcone remembers his boss as hard-working, forceful, frugal, always short of cash, a man who ate lunch at his desk, didn't go to fund-raisers, didn't play Washington games and didn't care much for money. He was just a very passionate, regular guy who got things done and took the time to ask about your family.
Marcone said he didn't see an arrogant, get-something-for-nothing side to Traficant.
He did know about the private above-the-garage district office at 11 Overhill Road in Boardman, referred to by staffers as "the lair," Traficant's getaway spot where he sometimes stayed overnight. Marcone didn't know, until the trial, that the office was really an efficiency apartment, which explains why Traficant wanted to hang on to it when the federal courthouse opened in downtown Youngstown.
Marcone said he can't get inside Traficant's head to figure out what happened. At the end of the day, Marcone said, the congressman has to live with whatever he did.
"There's a tragic quality to his whole career, and only he knows what really happened," Marcone said. "At some point, he needs to face his constituents and honestly explain why he was dealing with the Buccis, why was he having them do work at the farm. He needs to explain Allen Sinclair's role."
It troubles Marcone to know that all the good things he and the staff did won't be remembered.
Praise for prosecution: The lead prosecutor, Craig S. Morford, has impressed Marcone as someone doing a job in a thoughtful, deliberate manner -- not someone doing it out of spite or pursuing a vendetta.
"This man would not have indicted Jim Traficant if there were not overwhelming evidence. He made his decision on the evidence; he had an obligation to move forward."
Marcone said he never felt any pressure from the FBI or IRS throughout the investigation -- it was not a witch hunt, and there was no hint of a vendetta.
Although there may be a defense strategy not clear yet, Marcone looks at the legal strategy Traficant has embarked on as that of someone who's guilty.
Marcone said that, despite his urging, the congressman refused to set up a legal defense fund to hire the best lawyers and investigators.
Traficant's go-it-alone image, Marcone said, was obviously a consideration. When walking down those courthouse steps, any good lawyer worth his salt tells the client to shut up; the lawyer does all the talking, he said.
Marcone said Traficant is likely thinking one of his chances for victory is to connect with the jury. If the congressman had a lawyer, the jury would not get to see him in action, hear him speak, and he wouldn't get to interact with them, Marcone said.
Reinforcing image: "My sense on the stand was that he was simply reinforcing this image the prosecution has portrayed of someone who's a bully and someone who's intimidating, someone who could scare people," Marcone said. "The way he's constantly complaining, raising his voice -- I heard that he yelled most of his opening statement -- I didn't see him connecting with the jury at all."
Although the judge has not allowed Traficant to pursue his vendetta theory, Marcone thinks the congressman has done a good job of presenting it to the jury by the questions he asks. Marcone gave an example of a leading question that, even though overruled, gets the point across: "Isn't it true that I'm the No. 1 opponent of the Justice Department in my legislation?"
Marcone said he wouldn't be surprised to see a mixed bag, with the congressman found guilty of some charges and acquitted on others.
If Traficant is convicted, Marcone can picture his former boss still maintaining his innocence and writing a book in prison. Once free, he'd have his own radio show.
When it's all over, "I'd love to talk to him," Marcone said.
meade@vindy.com
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