While he manipulated them, he met with Sheila and tried to calm her. She had never been attacked before in such a manner. She was upset, but also angry. The gloves were off, and Mr. Nathaniel Lester was relishing the fight. Within two hours, he had designed and written a response, met with the printer, and ordered the necessary supplies. Twenty-four hours after the Lawsuit Victims for Truth's plea was sent by e-mail, 330 trial lawyers had committed $515,000.
Nat also went after the Trial Lawyers of America, several of whose members had made fortunes in Mississippi. He e-mailed the Lawsuit Victims for Truth's fulmination to fourteen thousand of its members.
Three days later, Sheila McCarthy counterpunched. Refusing to hide behind some silly group organized just to send propaganda, she (Nat) decided to send the correspondence from her own campaign. It was in the form of a letter, with a flattering photo of her at the top.
She thanked each voter for his or her support, and quickly ran through her experience and qualifications. She claimed to have nothing but respect for her opponents, but neither had ever worn the black robe. Neither, frankly, had ever shown any interest in the judiciary.
Then she posed the question: 'Why Is Big Business Financing Ron Fisk?' Because, she explained in detail, big business is currently in the business of buying seats on supreme courts all over the country. They target justices like herself, compassionate jurists who strive for the common ground and are sympathetic to the rights of workers, consumers, victims injured by the negligence of others, the poor, and the accused.
The law's greatest responsibility is to protect the weakest members of our society.
Rich people can usually take care of themselves.
Big business, through its myriad support groups and associations, is successfully coordinating a grand conspiracy to drastically change our court system. Why? To protect its own interests. How? By blocking the courthouse door; by limiting liability for companies that make defective products, for negligent doctors, for abusive nursing homes, for arrogant insurance companies.
The sad list went on.
She finished with a folksy paragraph asking the voters not to be fooled by slick marketing. The typical campaign run by big business in these races gets very ugly.
Mud is their favorite tool. The attack ads would soon begin, and they would be relentless.
Big business would spend millions to defeat her, but she had faith in the voters.
Barry Rinehart was impressed with the response. He was also delighted to see the trial lawyers rally so quickly and spend so much money. He wanted them to burn money.
The high end of his projection was $2 million for the McCarthy camp, with 90 percent from the trial lawyers.
His boy Fisk could easily double that.
His next ad, again by direct mail, was a sucker punch that would quickly dominate the rest of the campaign. He waited a week, time for the dust to settle from the first exchange of jabs.
The letter came straight from Ron Fisk himself, on his campaign letterhead, with a photo at the top of the handsome Fisk family. Its ominous headline announced: 'Mississippi Supreme Court to Rule on Gay Marriage.'
After a warm greeting, Ron wasted no time in launching into the issue at hand. The case of Meyerchec and Spano v. Hinds County involved two gay men who wanted to get married, and it would be decided the following year by the supreme court. Ron Fisk-Christian, husband, father, lawyer-was adamantly opposed to same-sex marriages, and he would take this unshakable belief to the supreme court. He condemned such unions as abnormal, sinful, against the clear teachings of the Bible, and detrimental to society on many levels.
Halfway through the letter, he introduced to the fray the well-known voice of the Reverend David Wilfong, a national loudmouth with a huge radio following. Wilfong decried such efforts to pervert our laws and bend, yet again, to the desires of an immoral few. He denounced liberal judges who insert their own beliefs into their rulings. He called upon the decent and God-fearing people of Mississippi, 'the heart and soul of the Bible Belt,' to embrace men like Ron Fisk and, in doing so, protect their state's sacred laws.
The liberal-judge theme continued to the end of the letter. Fisk signed off with another promise to serve as a conservative, common sense voice of the people.
Sheila McCarthy read the letter with Nat, and neither knew what the next step should be. Her name was never mentioned, but then it really wasn't necessary. Fisk certainly wasn't accusing Clete Coley of being a liberal.
'This is deadly,' Nat said, exasperated. 'He has claimed this issue as his own, and to take it back, or even to share it, you have to pulverize homosexuals worse than he does.'
'I'm not doing that.'
'I know you're not.'
'It is so improper for a member of the court, or one who aspires to be, to state how he or she will decide a future case. It's horrible.'
'This is just the beginning, dear.'
They were in the cramped storage room that Nat called his office. The door was shut, no one was listening. A dozen volunteers were busy in the adjacent room. Phones rang constantly.
'I'm not sure we answer this,' Nat said.
'Why not?'
'What are you going to say? “Ron Fisk is being mean.” “Ron Fisk is saying things he shouldn't.” You'll come off looking bitchy, which is okay for a male candidate, but not for a female.'
'That's not fair.'
'The only response is a denial of your support for same-sex marriages. You would have to take a position, which-'
'Which I'm not going to do. I'm not in favor of these marriages, but we need some type of civil union arrangement. It's a ridiculous debate, though, because the legislature is in charge of making laws. Not the court.'
Nat was on his fourth wife. Sheila was looking for husband number two. 'And besides,' she said, 'how could homosexuals possibly screw up the sanctity of marriage any worse than heterosexuals?'
'Promise me you'll never say that in public. Please.'
'You know I won't.'
He rubbed his hands together, then ran his fingers through his long gray hair. Indecisiveness was not one of his shortcomings. 'We have to make a decision, here and now,' he said.
'We can't waste time. The smartest route is to answer by direct mail.'
'What's the cost?'
'We can scale back some. I'd say two hundred thousand.'
'Can we afford it?'
'As of today, I would say no. Let's revisit it in ten days.'
'Agreed, but can't we do an e-mail blast and at least respond?'
'I've already written it.'
The response was a two-paragraph message sent that day to forty-eight thousand e-mail addresses. Justice McCarthy issued a strong rebuke to Ron Fisk for pledging his vote on a case he was far away from hearing. Had he been a member of the court, he would have been chastised. Dignity demands that the justices keep matters confidential and refrain from any comment whatsoever about pending cases. In the one he mentioned, no briefs had been filed in the appeal. No arguments heard. Nothing was before the court as of this date.
Without knowing the facts or the law, how could Mr. Fisk, or anyone else for that matter, possibly decide on a final ruling?
Sadly, it was just another example of Mr. Fisk's woeful inexperience injudicial matters.
Clete Coley's losses were piling up at the Lucky Jack, and he confided this to Marlin late one night in a saloon in Under-the-Hill. Marlin was passing through, checking on the candidate, who seemed to have forgotten about the race.
'I have a great idea,' Marlin said, warming up to the real reason for his visit.
'There are fourteen casinos on the Gulf Coast, big, beautiful, Vegas-style-'
'I've seen them.'
'Right. I know the guy who owns Pirate's Cove. He'll put you up three nights a week for the next month,
