Wednesday
Oct252006
My friend, Bob Ney
By Ellen Ratner
"My friend, Bob Ney"
By Ellen Ratner
The Hill Newspaper
I happen to be a proud liberal, one who gets to spout off on 300 radio stations every day. I also represent the liberal point of view as a commentator on the Fox News Channel. I oppose the policies of the Bush administration and the Republican congressional leadership (give me at least a full afternoon, and I could begin to share some of the reasons why).
Yet even in the rancid atmosphere that passes for political interaction in Washington these days, one can occasionally reach across the partisan and ideological divide to form genuine friendships with those on the other side. Thankfully, that's what happened with me and my friend, Rep. Bob Ney of Ohio.
As Republicans distance themselves from him and Democrats use him as a campaign tactic, let me say that I'm heartbroken over what's happened to him.
I got to know Bob when, as a freshman congressman, he used to appear opposite me on radio programs in the Ohio River Valley. Most people know the region only from flying overhead or speeding through on Interstate 70, so the place bears description.
Bob grew up in Belmont County, along the Ohio-West Virginia border, in the area close to Wheeling that used to be called the "Steel Belt." Times were better then, as his dad, a TV cameraman, and his mother, a buyer for a local department store, raised him and his sister in a solidly working-class neighborhood. Today, 14 percent of Belmont County's residents live in poverty, 40 percent more than Ohioans as a whole. Incomes average 30 percent below the nation's, and homes sell for about 40 percent less than those statewide.
What first struck me about Bob was how much the poverty in his home region tore at him. This wasn't your typical Republican, nor did my reporter's nose pick up the cynical, "I-feel-your-pain" shallowness you often see in politicians on both sides of the aisle.
No, here was a guy who really did remember where he came from. He knew that the kids he'd grown up with couldn't afford to raise their children in quality housing, and he went to Washington determined to do something about it.
In the four years that he chaired the Subcommittee on Housing, he was relentless: 63 hearings, 22 housing bills signed into law. One bill he spearheaded helped 40,000 lower-income families buy their first homes; another renovated public housing units that had become badly dilapidated after decades of neglect.
The day he lost his House chairmanship he was conducting Katrina housing hearings in New Orleans. I called him to ask how he was feeling about losing the gavel. His reply: "I'm fine, I have a roof over my head and my family. These people in the Gulf have lost everything."
You probably won't read anywhere that Bob Ney spent his youth teaching English as a second language in pre-Khomeini Iran. He's a multi-faceted guy, the only member of Congress fluent in Farsi.
His politics were similarly nuanced and complex. He was one of only three Republicans to vote against the President's Patriot Act when it was first proposed in 2001, and he supported its curtailment five years later. "Everybody's against terrorism, but there has to be reason in the way that we fight it," he told reporters at the time. It was bold, courageous stuff from somebody whose district went 55 percent for Bush in 2000 and 57 percent for the president in 2004. I only wish some Democrats shared his courage.
Now, of course, he's pleaded guilty to corruption in office, but the Bob Ney I know refused even to use his title to get a good table at a local restaurant when the line was out the door. I only wish he'd had a chance to tell his side in a court of law — and, take it from me, there is another side to this.
Today's Justice Department, however, tries its evidence in the public press, not a courtroom, so it can't be challenged or cross-examined. Those accused of high-profile wrongdoing nowadays are put through a grueling and costly ordeal where they are held upside-down by overpriced criminal defense lawyers, who drop them on their heads once all the money has been shaken out of their pockets.
While I'm heartbroken about Bob and angry as hell about the Justice Department's slimy tactics, I don't worry about him. I know my friend will look at incarceration not as the end of the road, but as a detour, a long-overdue chance to seek help for the alcoholism that has taken over more and more of his life these past few years.
He'll be strong, and when all this is over, he'll be a better man, a better husband and father — and he'll still be my friend.
"My friend, Bob Ney"
By Ellen Ratner
The Hill Newspaper
I happen to be a proud liberal, one who gets to spout off on 300 radio stations every day. I also represent the liberal point of view as a commentator on the Fox News Channel. I oppose the policies of the Bush administration and the Republican congressional leadership (give me at least a full afternoon, and I could begin to share some of the reasons why).
Yet even in the rancid atmosphere that passes for political interaction in Washington these days, one can occasionally reach across the partisan and ideological divide to form genuine friendships with those on the other side. Thankfully, that's what happened with me and my friend, Rep. Bob Ney of Ohio.
As Republicans distance themselves from him and Democrats use him as a campaign tactic, let me say that I'm heartbroken over what's happened to him.
I got to know Bob when, as a freshman congressman, he used to appear opposite me on radio programs in the Ohio River Valley. Most people know the region only from flying overhead or speeding through on Interstate 70, so the place bears description.
Bob grew up in Belmont County, along the Ohio-West Virginia border, in the area close to Wheeling that used to be called the "Steel Belt." Times were better then, as his dad, a TV cameraman, and his mother, a buyer for a local department store, raised him and his sister in a solidly working-class neighborhood. Today, 14 percent of Belmont County's residents live in poverty, 40 percent more than Ohioans as a whole. Incomes average 30 percent below the nation's, and homes sell for about 40 percent less than those statewide.
What first struck me about Bob was how much the poverty in his home region tore at him. This wasn't your typical Republican, nor did my reporter's nose pick up the cynical, "I-feel-your-pain" shallowness you often see in politicians on both sides of the aisle.
No, here was a guy who really did remember where he came from. He knew that the kids he'd grown up with couldn't afford to raise their children in quality housing, and he went to Washington determined to do something about it.
In the four years that he chaired the Subcommittee on Housing, he was relentless: 63 hearings, 22 housing bills signed into law. One bill he spearheaded helped 40,000 lower-income families buy their first homes; another renovated public housing units that had become badly dilapidated after decades of neglect.
The day he lost his House chairmanship he was conducting Katrina housing hearings in New Orleans. I called him to ask how he was feeling about losing the gavel. His reply: "I'm fine, I have a roof over my head and my family. These people in the Gulf have lost everything."
You probably won't read anywhere that Bob Ney spent his youth teaching English as a second language in pre-Khomeini Iran. He's a multi-faceted guy, the only member of Congress fluent in Farsi.
His politics were similarly nuanced and complex. He was one of only three Republicans to vote against the President's Patriot Act when it was first proposed in 2001, and he supported its curtailment five years later. "Everybody's against terrorism, but there has to be reason in the way that we fight it," he told reporters at the time. It was bold, courageous stuff from somebody whose district went 55 percent for Bush in 2000 and 57 percent for the president in 2004. I only wish some Democrats shared his courage.
Now, of course, he's pleaded guilty to corruption in office, but the Bob Ney I know refused even to use his title to get a good table at a local restaurant when the line was out the door. I only wish he'd had a chance to tell his side in a court of law — and, take it from me, there is another side to this.
Today's Justice Department, however, tries its evidence in the public press, not a courtroom, so it can't be challenged or cross-examined. Those accused of high-profile wrongdoing nowadays are put through a grueling and costly ordeal where they are held upside-down by overpriced criminal defense lawyers, who drop them on their heads once all the money has been shaken out of their pockets.
While I'm heartbroken about Bob and angry as hell about the Justice Department's slimy tactics, I don't worry about him. I know my friend will look at incarceration not as the end of the road, but as a detour, a long-overdue chance to seek help for the alcoholism that has taken over more and more of his life these past few years.
He'll be strong, and when all this is over, he'll be a better man, a better husband and father — and he'll still be my friend.
Slime, mud and the Rove machine
There is a great cartoon this week showing a man sitting in a chair in front of his television with mud from head to toe. His wife asks him if he has been outside and he replies that he has been watching political ads. I have watched political ads for years and this year's repertoire of televised political dysfunction represents the lowest, slimiest campaign season I have seen.
It even got personal for me. I have had tears and rage this weekend as Rep. Rick Renzi (R-AZ) made my brother¹s contribution to Democrat challenger Ellen Simon's campaign a centerpiece of his fight to keep his seat in Congress. Why? My bother gave less than the legal limit allowable, but he is one of the lawyers who sued the Bush government in Rasul vs. Bush. Rick Renzi is calling him a lawyer for al-Qaida. If he is a lawyer for al-Qaida, then I guess the United States Supreme Court is a court for al-Qaida, as the majority ruled in favor of my brother's client.
Had Mr. Renzi's mudslingers bothered to check, they would have found out that my father helped candidate Simon's father get his first job when he was a refugee from the Holocaust. We have been family friends for over 50 years. Oh, lest I forget, Renzi goes on to attack Ellen Simon's Cleveland, Ohio values. What are Cleveland, Ohio values? It is amazing given there have been two reports of federal corruption investigations about him.
The Republicans are really digging deep this season, which means they are really afraid of losing the election. My all-time favorite of the ''how low can you go?'' category is in Oneida, N.Y. for an open congressional seat pitting prosecutor Mike Arcuri against state Sen. Raymond A. Meier. The Republican Campaign Committee ran an ad (although many stations refused to air it), saying the Democratic candidate had dialed a sex hotline and charged the taxpayers for it. Turns out he was on a trip with two other law enforcement officials and one of them dialed 800-457-8462 rather than 518-457-8462. The charge to the taxpayers of New York? One dollar. Sen. Meier was horrified by this ridiculous ad, but his national committee was unrepentant.
In the very close Tennessee Senate race between African American Harold Ford Jr. and Bob Corker, the Republican National Committee came up with an ad that has a thinly dressed white woman saying, ''I met Harold (Ford) at a Playboy party.'' Yes indeed, Playboy threw some bash with about 3,000 attendees in Florida. Some called the ad racist, others in very poor taste. Even the Corker campaign thought the ad was over the top and in poor taste. Again the national committee was unrepentant.
The tight Virginia Senate race between Sen. Allen (R-Va.) and former secretary of the Navy under President Reagan, James Webb, (now a Democrat), has degenerated into Sen. Allen of ''Makaka'' fame enticing the Drudge Report to post selections from some of Mr. Webb's novels. The stunt was so well orchestrated that by Friday afternoon Republican-leaning talk show hosts were talking about Mr. Webb's writing about pedophilia in one of his novels. Turns out the ''pedophilia'' that he was writing about has to do with a Thai ritual that involves a father kissing a part of his sons genitalia as a right of passage. He writes about the ''Banana Show'' in the sex area of Thailand, which takes place in almost all the sex bars. Never mind that Sen. Allen will not release his arrest warrant records from 1974. A novel is clearly more important to the tax payers than an arrest warrant.
A few other campaign hits from your friends in the GOP: the Republican Party of Wisconsin distributed a mailing linking Democratic House candidate Steve Kagen to a convicted serial killer and child rapist. The supposed connection: the "bloodthirsty" attorney for the killer had also done legal work for Kagen.
In the Ohio gace for governor, Secretary of State Ken Blackwell's campaign is also warning voters through suggestive "push polls" that Rep. Ted Strickland failed to support a resolution condemning sex between adults and children. Strickland, a psychologist, objected to a line suggesting sexually abused children cannot have healthy relationships when they grow up.
Why all this extreme nastiness and sex focus? I don't think you need to be a rocket scientist to speculate as to who might be behind this extreme season. Most of the mud is being slung from the Republican national campaign offices in Washington, D.C. The guy who communicates with all of these national campaign committees happens to be Karl Rove. I can safely make an election year bet that Mr. Rove, a public servant paid for by you and me, is behind this year's below-the-belt nastiness. It is classic Karl Rove tactics. We can only hope that the public has had enough and will see through the slime in time.