A date that created infamy

Twenty-five years ago tomorrow (June 16, 1983) a federal district court jury in Cleveland found then Mahoning County Sheriff James A. Traficant Jr. innocent of bribery and tax evasion charges. In so doing, jurors unleashed on the nation a political megalomaniac who would spend the next 20 years charting a course that would lead back to where he started — in federal court. This time, however, the outcome would be very different.

Indeed, as the former congressman from the Mahoning Valley sits in a federal prison serving an eight-year term for his conviction by a jury on 10 federal criminal charges, including racketeering, bribery and tax evasion, he may well be asking himself today whether a guilty verdict a quarter of a century ago might not have been a good thing.

He was 42 years old at the time, and in good health. His stay in prison would have been a lot easier than it has been for the past several years, and he would have emerged a true hero to his legions of followers in the region. That’s because most felt he had been railroaded by the FBI, and even if the charges were true that he had played footsies with Mafia figures such as Vincenzo “Jimmy” Prato and the Carabbia brothers, Charlie, Ronnie and Orly, so what?

Folk-hero story

A conviction in 1983 and a jail sentence would have made him larger than life. As it was, his successfully defending himself became the foundation of his folk-hero story, one that he parlayed into a successful run for Congress in 1984 against incumbent Lyle Williams, a Republican.

Traficant believed his hangers-on when they told him that his acquittal made him politically invincible. He didn’t go to Washington with a chip on his shoulder, he had a whole tree trunk. He also carried grudges — against the FBI, the U.S. Justice Department, the Internal Revenue Service (he was ultimately found guilty of tax evasion in U.S. Tax Court and ordered to pay the tax, interest and penalties on $163,000 the feds said he had taken from the mob during his run for sheriff) and the Democratic political establishment, both nationally and locally.

Indeed, spurred by his court jesters, Traficant made a bid for chairman of the Mahoning Democratic Party against long-time party boss Don L. Hanni Jr. It was a clash of the political titans. Hanni won.

That meeting of the Democratic Party’s precinct committeemen and women will be remembered not for what took place publicly, but for a private conversation between Hanni and Traficant.

Just before votes were cast, the Bull Moose turned to the Valley’s Buford Pusser (from the movie “Walking Tall”) and quipped: “Let’s go out into the parking lot and settle this with our fists. The one standing will be chairman.” The blood drained from Traficant’s face.

It was the last time he would take on Hanni.

But he was invincible in his re-election bids for Congress, and that contributed to his behavior on Capitol Hill. His expletive-filled speeches on the floor of the House of Representatives, his bombastic press conferences and his willingness to turn his back on his fellow Democrats made him a lot of enemies.

And so it was in 2002 that he was indicted for using his public position for personal gain. His downfall brought few tears in Washington, but was devastating to his supporters in the Mahoning Valley.

Exclamation point

His conviction, expulsion from the Congress and his eight-year prison sentence served as an exclamation point on a political journey that began in Cleveland on July 16, 1983, when the jury foreman declared “Not guilty.”

Today, at the age of 67, with some sort of health condition, Traficant is contemplating his release next year.

Although there are those supporters who believe that he still wields political power in this region, it is difficult to see how James A. Traficant Jr. can resurrect the image of the man those many years ago who strutted into banquet halls, the song “Eye of the Tiger” ricochetting off the walls, as adoring fans reached out to touch him.

But what if he had gone to prison then?