came on the news (i.e. if that’s how they treated Maurice, what about me?). Then there was the matter of the 1985 San Francisco trial against me for charges of assault with a deadly weapon. I was acquitted, but what a pain! I was not interested in repeating that experience.
Then there were outstanding warrants in a jurisdiction where I had just finished suing (unsuccessfully) the warden, who, (before I sued him) had murdered two inmates, crushing them to death in a trash compactor during an escape attempt. (Don’t worry, he won’t sue me for libel, this is an open fact demonstrated in court—the prosecution merely needed an eyewitness.)
So let’s review the bidding, as Nancy Kopp would say:
a) Maurice Lewis;
b) San Francisco, AWDW (i.e. I have already been charged with things I didn’t do);
c) Pittsburgh warrants (exposure: 4 years.)
Even so, when I heard I was wanted for questioning, I tried to turn myself in through a Vermont lawyer, Dan Lynch… and lo and behold when I called an intermediary, Dan had become a judge. This gave me pause. (Can you turn yourself in to a judge?) Sounded awfully ex parte to me.
So, the run theory prevailed. If I had it all to do over again, I probably would not have run away. But that’s hindsight.
If the above does not make sense, please ask any veteran rescuer, any veteran object of U.S. lawsuits, or for that matter (esp. about Maurice…) anyone familiar with Mena witness murders (New American Spectator), (No I am not a conspiracy theorist… yet).
My spirits are good. I look forward to a vigorous defense. My eyes are on God, I am looking to Him to free me. I am tired of running. The evangelical chaplain here gave me a tape of hymns by 2nd Chapter of Acts. Here is my favorite:
I pray for you all. Please write, don’t be afraid. Send it unsigned through a lawyer if you wish. I’ll figure out who you are. God bless you.
Remember my chains. It was a quote from St. Paul’s letter to the Colossians, 4:18.
Chapter 21 ~ “A Pro-life Scalp”
Buffalo lawyer Paul Cambria Jr. had a national reputation. He had defended the right to free speech for clients such as porn king Larry Flynt and shock rocker Marilyn Manson. At 54, he had practiced law for nearly 30 years. He contributed regularly to a website devoted to legal questions regarding pornography and free speech. He rode a Harley, was once featured on the cover of Rolling Stone. The press loved him. He once admitted that he wanted to be on O. J. Simpson’s legal Dream Team “in the worst way,” and quipped he was relieved he wasn’t hired to defend Timothy McVeigh because his skills might have got the Oklahoma City bomber acquitted.
Once Cambria took the case of James C. Kopp, the buzz began. He was very good, but some of Jim’s friends felt he needed a committed pro-life attorney, someone to make the philosophical points. Others, like Susan Brindle, thought Cambria, who was not known as a pro-lifer, was perfect. Morality, abortion, religion—that was not Cambria’s game, and that was not at issue in Jim Kopp’s case, or at least shouldn’t be. Cambria would have credibility with a jury. He could stand up there and say: “I am pro-choice, I lament the death of Dr. Slepian. But Mr. Kopp did not pull the trigger.” In addition, Cambria would be expensive, very expensive. But donations from pro-life supporters were coming in. Susan told Jim, whatever it costs, they would raise the money, because that’s how much they believed in his innocence.
Meanwhile, controversy over Jim’s case raged online. His supporters charged that the FBI had fabricated evidence to deliver a pro-life scapegoat for pro-choice forces in Washington.
“Regardless of whether Jim Kopp actually committed this crime or not,” wrote one commentator, “the Clinton-Reno Department of Justice was going to have a pro-life scalp and
his was as good as any. In a nation governed by amoral people who see the judicial system as an instrument of politics rather than justice, that’s just the way the game is played.”
It didn’t add up, did it? Jim had friends all over the country, and no one had ever seen any sign he was capable of shooting anyone. He never talked about it. If anything he seemed destined to be a priest. That FBI mug shot, it didn’t even look like Jim. Physical evidence? The police can’t find the rifle used to shoot Slepian, yet finger Kopp for the murder anyway. Then, more than five months later—presto—they find not only the rifle but hair fibers supposedly linked to Kopp all over the place. It was all there: planted evidence; unlikely killer; biased law enforcement. It all had echoes of the O. J. Simpson case. A lawyer of Cambria’s caliber would make hay with the inconsistencies.
The charge against Loretta Marra and Dennis Malvasi was upgraded from conspiracy to harbor a known fugitive to a more serious charge of obstruction of justice. In the summer of 2001 they applied to be released on bail. Their trial had been moved from Brooklyn, in the Eastern District of the State of New York, to Buffalo, in the Western District. Malvasi had a Buffalo courtappointed lawyer named Thomas Eoannou representing him. Marra retained a Long Island lawyer named Bruce Barket, who had defended pro-life clients in the past.
Barket was a stocky 42-year-old devout Catholic with dark hair and an olive complexion that reflected his LebaneseItalian heritage. He had once stopped practicing law to study for the priesthood, but returned to his job and made a considerable reputation defending the underdog. He won the New York State Association of Criminal Defense Lawyers Gideon Award, for representing people who could not afford to pay. Barket disdained the description “pro-life lawyer,” but he made no secret of his beliefs, or of the fact that he wanted to add the notion of protection of the fetus to the quilt of American civil rights.
Barket had fought some controversial cases. He continued to represent Amy Fisher, who had made headlines in 1992 as a 17-year-old high school student who had an affair with a married man and wound up shooting his wife in the head, nearly killing her. Dubbed the Long Island Lolita by the tabloids, Fisher pleaded guilty and was sentenced to 5 to 15 years in prison. In 1998, she claimed she had had a steamy affair with her first lawyer—prior to Barket taking over her defense—and that he had forced her into copping the plea to avoid the tryst being revealed. “What took place,” Barket said after becoming her lawyer, “is sad and despicable.” In 1999, Fisher launched a $220-million lawsuit against five corrections officers who she alleged had raped her. She later dropped the suit. The judge said that her lawsuit “read more like a cheap dime-store novel or a script for a tabloid television show than a pleading in a federal lawsuit.” Barket had earlier requested a new criminal trial for Fisher, claiming that the district attorney handling the case had made plea-bargain promises that were not kept. It would not be the last time that Bruce Barket argued that he had been misled by a prosecutor in a plea bargain.
Loretta Marra wrote a letter to the presiding judge, Richard Arcara, arguing for her release on bail. She said she was no flight risk. All of her friends were known to the FBI in any case, she had nowhere to go even if she wanted to, and two little boys she needed to care for, one of which she was still nursing at the time of her arrest.
“I don’t mind being incarcerated,” she wrote. “It has a lot in common with the monastic lifestyle, a lifestyle
