J udge Speaks Loud For McLaughlin's Victims

Over a career that's included stints as a Federal prosecutor, Queens District Attorney and counsel to the Knapp Commission investigating police corruption, Michael Armstrong has seen more than his share of human cupidity that landed the culprits in the criminal dock, from white-collared fraud merchants to blue-collared cops.

No doubt those experiences helped immunize him against any feelings of shock about the transgressions of his latest client, Brian McLaughlin, as he argued for leniency on behalf of the former president of the AFL-CIO New York City Central Labor Council at his sentencing hearing May 20 before U.S. District Judge Richard Sullivan.

He noted that Mr. McLaughlin's contrition could be seen from the fact that he informed the U.S. Attorney's Office of sums from ill-gotten gains it hadn't been aware of, bringing his restitution up to $3 million from the $2.2 million he was originally charged with stealing.

'Small Amounts From Different Pots'

And, Mr. Armstrong said, while what his client had done was clearly wrong, it was not as bad as defrauding a single individual of his life's savings. Rather, the former union leader and Queens Assemblyman had committed "thefts from different pots but in small amounts."

The Chief-Leader/Pat Arnow ON HIS WAY TO HARD TIME: Though attorney Michael Armstrong (right) argued for leniency on the grounds that there were no 'individual victims' of Brian McLaughlin's thievery, the former Central Labor Council president's sentencing judge was unswayed, giving him a 10- year prison term. That last description seemed remarkable in its understatement given the very large amount Mr. McLaughlin admitted to pilfering, but Mr. Armstrong had not yet taken his home-run swing in that area. That came when he added, "There are no real victims in this case, Your Honor."

"No real victims?" Judge Sullivan repeated incredulously.

"Individual victims," Mr. Armstrong clarified.

It was at that point that the judge began a discourse that was as inspiring as the conduct that provoked it was soul-deadening. Where Mr. Armstrong suggested it would have been surprising had Mr. McLaughlin confined his illegal activities to just one corner of his life as a State Assemblyman and labor leader, Judge Sullivan condemned him for dipping into every pot those multiple roles placed at his disposal, as if living by a policy of No Bribe Left Behind.

The breadth of the thievery was "mind-boggling," he said, so much so that he believed a departure from normal sentencing guidelines was warranted that could have gotten Mr. McLaughlin as much as 15 years behind bars, rather than the prescribed 8-10 years. It was only what Assistant U.S. Attorney Daniel Braun called his "substantial assistance" in other Federal corruption probes that led him to scale back the sentence to 10 years, the judge said.

Those who wrote asking for leniency on Mr. McLaughlin's behalf included AFL-CIO President John J. Sweeney, who cited Mr. McLaughlin's "long record of service to the working men and women of New York City." It was not the first time that Mr. Sweeney seemed overly tolerant of a union leader abusing his power for his own benefit; as president of the Service Employees International Union two decades ago, he overlooked the outlandish salary and opulent living quarters inside the offices of Building Workers Local 32BJ enjoyed by then-President Gus Bevona until the excesses became a wellpublicized embarrassment.

Courage or Chutzpah?

Father Brian Jordan also wrote a letter on Mr. McLaughlin's behalf, stating that "he truly cares about the working-class people and the dignity of labor" and that he "stood tall" on behalf of immigrant workers when it was not terribly popular to do so. Father Jordan went on to say that "Labor has not adequately replaced Brian with someone who has as much intestinal fortitude."

Judge Sullivan viewed that fortitude as pure brass, however, decrying how Mr. McLaughlin perverted the qualities that elevated him to positions of leadership and "squandered" the opportunities he had gotten.

He said the favorable portrayals of Mr. McLaughlin conveyed in the letters sent on his behalf were "difficult to reconcile" with the crimes of "a man who so abused the trust of institutions and people who depended upon him that it staggers the mind."

And in setting an appropriate sentence, he said, the lack of previous blemishes on Mr. McLaughlin's record and the likelihood that he had learned from his misdeeds and would "never commit another crime" were overridden by the need for "sending a message that certain kinds of crimes cannot and will not be tolerated."

Even given the magnitude of the offenses and the amount of money involved, the sentence seemed high when compared to other cases involving corruption by union leaders during the past decade.

Charlie Hughes, who headed Local 372 of District Council 37, embezzled more than $2 million but was sentenced to 3-9 years in jail; Al Diop as head of DC 37's Local 1549 got 2- 6 years for stealing more than $1 million and helping to rig a DC 37 wage contract vote. They were both subject to the more-flexible guidelines for plea bargains in the state judicial system, but Ron Reale, the former Transit Police union leader who both stole from his members and tried to defraud the Campaign Finance Board, got his seven-year Federal sentence primarily because he insisted on going to trial rather than negotiating a plea for a lesser sentence.

Made CLC Relevant Again

In comparison to Mr. McLaughlin, however, all of them were minor figures, and despite Mr. Reale's run for Public Advocate, none would have ever been regarded as a serious candidate for major elected office. A decade ago, Mr. McLaughlin was considered a potential contender for Mayor or City Comptroller, and as head of the CLC he spoke for the entire city labor movement. One of his primary achievements during his decade in that post was in rescuing the umbrella group for both public- and private-sector unions from the moribund state into which it fell under his predecessor.

But that added visibility, Judge Sullivan seemed to say, conferred upon him a greater responsibility, and his illegal activities shined a harsher light on the labor movement than the sins of officials like Mr. Hughes, Mr. Diop and Mr. Reale, none of whom were recognizable by the general public.

Likening his plundering to that of Boss Tweed 140 years earlier, Judge Sullivan said, "The cause of unions and of working people has been terribly undermined by your behavior." It confirmed the image presented by "the harshest critics of organized labor who accuse the leadership of corruption, and point to you as an example of that corruption."

An Offense Against All Workers

With those words, he rebutted Mr. Armstrong's argument that there had been no "individual victims" in the scheme. It wasn't just the members of the International Brotherhood of Electrical Workers whose bank account Mr. McLaughlin took $100,000 from, or the $185,000 in CLC funds he pocketed that was not available on behalf of the causes of its member unions.

It was the cause of those employees in contract battles who could see public opinion turn against them due to editorials from labor-bashing newspapers eager to capitalize on any hint of corruption by union leaders. It was also that of unions in general as they seek to organize underpaid workers who lack benefits in areas ranging from overtime and holiday pay to pension and grievance rights. One of Mr. McLaughlin's last public appearances before he was indicted nearly three years ago was as part of a rally against a Wal-Mart in the city because of the company's exploitation of its non-unionized workers.

His conduct, Judge Sullivan said, "has encouraged a cynicism and a despair that is so counterproductive."

Those qualities could be seen in a description by one union official of the reaction of many of those who worked with Mr. McLaughlin in the past. Some of them wanted to see him do serious prison time, this official said, but others just wanted him to figuratively go away and allow them to wipe the stains he left behind off the pavement.

Mr. McLaughlin had a close-up view of the DC 37 scandal which resulted in more than two dozen union officials being convicted and a significant number of them doing some jail time. But no one served more than the three years done by Mr. Hughes. A remark said to have been made by another of the miscreants in that union, Mark Shaplo, lingers: when the Manhattan District Attorney was closing in, he declared, "I can do the two years if I can keep my money."

A Lot More Than 2 Years

Mr. McLaughlin, even if he gets some time off credited to him for undergoing treatment for alcoholism, is likely to serve eight years of his sentence. As for keeping his money, Judge Sullivan ordered that as part of his restitution, he pay 10 percent of whatever he earns when he is finally discharged from prison as part of his restitution.

Mr. Armstrong pressed for him to reduce the assessment to 5-percent, noting that the 57-year-old Mr. McLaughlin was unlikely to be able to work as an electrician by the time he completed his sentence, but Judge Sullivan stood firm.

Mr. McLaughlin had sat stoically throughout the proceedings, and offered no visible reaction when the judge ordered the 10-year term. He had gotten his first inkling of how hard he might be hit when the New York Post reported a week earlier that Judge Sullivan was considering going beyond the 8-10 years that Mr. Armstrong and the U.S. Attorney's Office agreed was the appropriate range before considering his cooperation in other corruption investigations.

Even in a relatively tame prison like Allenwood, where he is likely to be sent, eight or more years behind bars is hardly easy time. Judge Sullivan had served two purposes with the sentence: mirroring the outrage felt by the workers whose hopes had been compromised by Mr. McLaughlin's thievery, and providing a deterrent scary enough for all but the hard-core outlaws who may lurk in union positions to think twice about following his path.