The career of Willie Herenton can be divided into two parts.
In Part One, he was the breaker of racial barriers in Memphis: the
first black assistant school superintendent, the first black school
superintendent, the first black mayor. In Part Two, he was the champion
of black power. Not the radical black power of “Burn Baby Burn” and a
clenched-fist salute, but the black economic power of an affluent
class, a growing middle class, and a rising underclass.
It was in Part Two that Herenton got himself in a jam and possibly a
federal grand jury investigation.
This is the Herenton who, a few years after becoming mayor, became a
partner in Banneker Estates, an upscale real estate development next to
his home in South Memphis that he hoped would rival similar enclaves
for wealthy whites in East Memphis.
This is the Herenton who explored selling MLGW, clashed with Herman
Morris, installed his protégé Joseph Lee, and insisted
that MLGW reallocate its lucrative bond business so that firms in
Memphis, including one where his son worked, got more business.
This is the Herenton who hired special adviser/real estate man Pete
Aviotti, who says the mayor has “a passion” for real estate.
This is the Herenton who co-existed with Shelby County mayor Jim
Rout and special adviser Bobby Lanier and a posse of hostile suburban
mayors for 16 years and ran for city mayor a fifth time to keep Morris
from getting the job.
And this is the Herenton who did deals with one E.W. Moon at
Banneker Estates and downtown near Beale Street.
How you look at Herenton, builder of black economic wealth, depends
somewhat on whether you are black or white. By Herenton’s lights, he
has been more than fair to whites by putting them in director jobs and
going along with their pet business projects.
The root of this federal investigation is minority participation,
the rule that says you don’t do a big public deal in this town without
black and white partners in the underwriting firms, the PR firms, the
law firms, on the job sites, and any place where there’s the smell of
money. Minority participation was the making and unmaking of Tennessee
Waltz star witness Tim Willis, among others.
My guess is that the feds have about a one-month window to indict.
After that, Mr. Obama goes to Washington, and a new attorney general
gets installed along with new U.S. attorneys with Democratic loyalties
and antennas.
If there is a case, it will surely have to go to Washington for
review, and I can imagine the conversation going like this.
“Mr. Attorney General, we’ve got a hot one down in Memphis against
the mayor who’s been in office for 17 years. He’s taken some shots over
the years, but he’s still a local hero to a lot of people. He knows it,
and he’ll fight like hell. Is it a go?”
“What did he do?”
“It’s a real estate deal.”
“About time. Nail a bunch of bankers and brokers, too?”
“Uh, actually, no.”
“I see. I’m kinda busy. Can we get back to you in January?”
And I can imagine the Herenton lines of defense, first in the media
and then in the courtroom: It’s the Republicans’ parting shot, the
sequel to Tennessee Waltz. If you can’t vote him out of office, indict
him. Payback for Joseph Lee. The mayor is indicted while bankers get
$25 million bonuses for destroying the global economy.
A Herenton indictment would be a national story. I can see a New
York Times equivalent to The Wall Street Journal‘s obsession
with the back story of the 1993 federal corruption trial of former
congressman Harold Ford Sr., two months after Bill Clinton was sworn
in. The pre-trial and the trial itself would be a war, tougher than the
Ford trial or the trial of former Atlanta mayor (and Herenton friend)
Bill Campbell, who was indicted after he left office.
It is very possible, of course, that the feds have some juicy
evidence of their own and a list of witnesses ready to testify. They
may even have a smoking gun.
After the Joe Lee and Ed Ford fiascoes, they better have a lot of
them.