"I'm extremely sorry for what has taken place." - former Sen. Bob Mellow, shortly before being sentenced to 16 months in federal prison
Charles Sechler is 43 years old, but his life is effectively over.
Convicted of conspiracy to distribute more than 500 grams (about 2 pounds) of methamphetamine and 100 kilograms (about 220 pounds) of marijuana in Northeast Pennsylvania, he fled to Canada and sought refugee status.
The Canadians were not amused. They shipped Mr. Sechler back to face the music; he is serving a life sentence in a federal prison in West Virginia.
Neither accused nor convicted of killing anyone, Charles Sechler will die behind bars.
The sentence was imposed by Senior U.S. District Judge Edwin M. Kosik in federal court in Scranton. U.S. Attorney Peter J. Smith said (somehow with a straight face) that the punishment fit the crime.
"The sentence rendered ... was appropriate, especially given the nature of the offenses and Sechler's attempt to escape the consequences of his crimes by hiding in Canada," he said.
Sorry, Charlie. Better luck next life.
I'm not here to defend drug dealers, but a life sentence seems salty for 220 pounds of pot and 2 pounds of speed. I'll bet Mr. Sechler wishes he had gone into some other line of organized crime, like bookmaking, prostitution or politics.
For his crimes, which included illegal use of taxpayer-paid staff for campaign work and filing a false tax return, the same Mr. Smith who cheered Mr. Sechler's sentence said that Mr. Mellow, 69, deserved to spend two years in prison.
Two years.
Twenty-four months.
Half as long as college for the average student.
Bad math
If that doesn't add up, remember that in judicial math, simple arithmetic often reads like advanced trigonometry. Even judges have to consult the back of the book for the answers.
In a marathon Friday hearing, U.S. District Judge Joel Slomsky sentenced Mr. Mellow to 16 months in federal prison. It was an outcome the former senator likely never saw coming, but then who ever expected to hear Bob Mellow compared to Abraham Lincoln?
In a rambling plea that strained credulity and the attention spans of all present, attorney Sal Cognetti Jr. did just that. The comparison was apt, I suppose, in that both men were powerful politicians who occasionally wore top hats. That, however, is where the similarities end.
In asking for no sentence heavier than house arrest, Mr. Cognetti painted a picture of Mr. Mellow that Mother Teresa would have had a hard time living up to. His client is not a common criminal, but a selfless victim whose devotion to public service cost him his marriage, his health, his reputation, career, and astronomical pension. He did a lot of good for the region and individual constituents, and deserves to live what's left of his life in peace in his own home.
It is true that Mr. Mellow did a lot of good for the region, but the notion that the relationship was one-sided is laughable. Mr. Mellow and his family and friends benefited immensely from his position. He lived a life of power, prestige and perks most of his constituents cannot imagine. If that's sacrifice, sign me up.
Here's what really happened: Over 40 years in government, Bob Mellow came to believe himself untouchable. He was. When he was first elected, nearly half the people living in Lackawanna County today hadn't even been born. If you grew up here between January 1971 and November 2010, he was as constant as the sun.
Bob Mellow was Northeast Pennsylvania. He was the ultimate political authority, an accomplished rainmaker who brought $2.3 billion in state money to the region. His political machine was a Rolls Royce tailed by a fleet of ramshackle jalopies. He was occasionally opposed in his re-election bids, but never by anyone with a chance of dethroning him.
Either you're corrupt or not
The only opponent Bob Mellow couldn't beat was himself.
Contrary to his courtroom "apology," the crimes to which Mr. Mellow pleaded guilty did not simply "take place," like a flash flood, car accident, or some other random twist of fate. He knew he was breaking the law and arrogantly continued even after his colleagues were indicted for similar acts.
Mr. Cognetti bristled at the use of the word "corruption" to describe his client's crimes. Mr. Mellow, he noted, was not accused of taking kickbacks or bribes. True enough, but also beside the point, as was Mr. Cognetti's discounting of the financial cost of his client's misuse of about $80,000 in taxpayer money, which he said amounted to about $300 a week.
A Philadelphia lawyer can earn that much in an hour, he noted, a priceless point coming from a star solicitor who was reportedly paid a $700,000 retainer to defend "Honest Abe" Mellow. Minimizing the financial cost of Mr. Mellow's crimes obscures the fact he squandered the public trust he swore to hold sacred.
Corruption is just that. Lines are crossed, no matter how blurry the vision of the trespasser. One cannot be "a little bit pregnant." It is what it is.
Let Mr. Mellow's fall serve as a reminder that there are rules to every game, no matter how rigged. Woe to the player who forgets this. Like Charles Sechler, Bob Mellow was the hub of a network that distributed dangerous intoxicants. Mr. Sechler peddled pot and speed. Mr. Mellow's product was power. In a region where political and professional corruption are as widespread as they are superficially demonized, there is no more addictive mind-altering substance.
Some will say my comparison of Mr. Mellow and a drug dealer is as big a stretch as Mr. Cognetti's comparison to Mr. Lincoln. Maybe so, but Bob Mellow is going to jail because he violated a cardinal rule that applies to politics just as plainly as it does to drug dealing: Never get high on your own supply.
CHRIS KELLY, Times-Tribune columnist, has never worn a top hat. Contact the writer: kellysworld@timesshamrock.com