chicagotribune.com
John Kass
November 16, 2011
I have an idea for how federal judges who neglect to order background checks of criminal juries can do public penance:
They can wear orange "community service" vests and use sharpened sticks to spear cigarette butts from the sidewalk out in front of the earthy hangouts where judges are known to have lunch.
But first, let me tell you what my friend Deuce and I did the other day. We went looking for that Cellini juror.
The one who apparently lied about her multiple felony convictions — a DUI and possession of crack cocaine — and by doing so may have screwed up Illinois' most important political corruption case in years: The successful prosecution of a political untouchable, Illinois Republican boss William Cellini, the multimillionaire who spent decades in the shadows, undetected at the center of the Combine's web.
Out in that juror's neighborhood, it was getting dark but still bright enough so the man in her apartment could see us and buzz us in. A little boy stood out on the landing, waiting, and then the older gentleman wearing a Chicago Blackhawks jersey came out.
"She's not here," said the man in Hawks colors. His cellphone started to ring, and Deuce asked for his number.
"No," he said. "I don't roll like that."
It was dinnertime. I figured she was behind that door. Just then the boy stepped back out. He said something about the Cellini juror who is believed to have hidden her felony convictions.
"She's afraid," he said.
She has nothing to be afraid of, I lied. Don't worry, I told him. Then we left.
Actually, she has reason to be afraid. Perjury is a federal offense, punishable by prison. And she's made some important people look awfully foolish.
She may have cost prosecutors and taxpayers an important conviction, and the expense of an extra trial.
I was in the courtroom the day the juror was questioned by U.S. District Judge James Zagel. She said something about a male relative who had been arrested, but she told Zagel that she felt she could come to an impartial verdict.
Now Cellini's attorney, Dan Webb, is demanding the guilty verdict be overturned. Webb will use the issue to appeal in the hopes of keeping Cellini out of prison for the next several years.
Cellini is the whole ballgame. He's bigger than convicted former Gov. Rod Blagojevich, more important, with greater reach. Now the Cellini case has been compromised because of one juror. But not without help from Judge Zagel.
I like and respect Zagel. He did a remarkable job with the Family Secrets case of murder and conspiracy in the Chicago Outfit. And he's got a fine, sarcastic sense of humor. But here, he screwed up. Arrogance cost him.
How?
In an earlier high-profile case, he promised to check the backgrounds of jurors. But in the Cellini trial — a "heater" trial if there ever was one — it looks as if that didn't happen.
He should have known better. During the corruption trial of former Gov. George Ryan in 2006, the Tribune checked the jurors' backgrounds and found that two had concealed criminal convictions. They were dismissed. One was a holdout for Ryan.
But in Blagojevich's first trial, Zagel turned down requests of news organizations, including the Tribune, for the names of jurors. The public wasn't invited to know. Zagel said he understood the problems raised by the Tribune in the Ryan case but told everyone not to worry.
"The information-gathering process used by the Tribune (is) now automatically applied to jurors in high-profile cases," he said.
Yet it appears that background checks weren't done in the Cellini case, as Zagel had indicated they would be. After the trial, it didn't take a Tribune reporter long to find the Cellini juror's felony convictions.
And in an unrelated case a few days ago, the issue of background checks came up in the trial of a former Chicago cop allegedly involved in the drug business. After the U.S. Marshals Service declined to help with background checks, U.S. District Judge Joan Gottschall decided not to ask other officials to vet the jurors.
"There's a limit to what we can do," said Judge Gottschall, unfortunately ensuring her immortality.
There's a limit to what we can do, Judge Gottschall? A limit?
Judge, it doesn't take much to order federal bureaucrats to run criminal histories of potential jurors. All they have to do is push a few buttons on a computer. The Tribune could show you.
It's obvious that Gottschall and Zagel have some issues with background checks for jurors. It appears they're both in need of a stern corrective.
So if I had the power, I'd order them to wear orange vests, carry those sharp sticks and stand outside Manny's, spearing candy wrappers and other trash on the sidewalk for a week or two. Why Manny's?
Because judges of all kinds can often be seen at the historic deli, enjoying the scrumptious pastrami, and latke and such.
And standing there stabbing gum wrappers with a stick before their peers might be just the thing for judges who don't care about background checks for juries.
Illinois is sick with corruption, tired and numbed by it. We might be chumbolones, but we shouldn't be subjected to the cruel and unusual punishment of watching political untouchables dance away smiling because a juror lied, or because a judge didn't demand that simple checks be made.
The last jury I sat on (and in fact, EVERY jury I've ever sat on, I PROUDLY proclaim my felonious background. In point of fact, you actually DO want criminals judging criminals, because it tends to be a bit more difficult to bamboozle us with attorney's misdirections (at least, speaking for myself). Guilty is as guilty does, as Forest Gump would say. She voted guilty, which seems to be pretty much the concensus. IF this gets the case tossed, then maybe a bigger fix was in, and just MAYBE, they DID order a back ground check and let the juror pass in the hopes of getting an "untouchable" off - a second bite at the appls, as some might say.
jskass@tribune.com
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