>Date: Wed, 31 Mar 1999 03:54:03 -0800
>To:Cynthia
>From:[EMAIL PROTECTED] (Alex Constantine)
>Subject:US v. Frederick Tupper Saussy
>
>
>  The Amazing Tupper Saussy
>  -------------------------------------------------------------
>
>  By John Branston
>
>  MAY 18, 1998:  For 10 fugitive years, Frederick Tupper
>  Saussy felt like he was "America's Least Wanted."
>
>  Convicted on federal income-tax charges in Chattanooga in
>  1985 and unsuccessful in his appeals, Saussy went on the lam
>  in 1987 rather than begin serving a one-year sentence at the
>  federal prison in Atlanta. Thus began a game of
>  cat-and-mouse with U.S. marshals that would end last
>  November outside his home in Venice Beach, California.
>
>     By then Saussy, 61, had begun to doubt that the
>     government was still making much of an effort to find
>  him. He was on his way to a quiet lunch with his 20-year-old
>  son, an aspiring art student at Santa Monica City College.
>  On a cool, rainy day, he opened the door to his garage, got
>  in his car, and began to drive away when two cars suddenly
>  blocked him in. A federal marshal got out, held up a badge,
>  and asked if he was Frederick Tupper Saussy.
>
>  No, Saussy replied, he was not.
>
>  "That name had not been uttered for 10 years," Saussy said
>  this week in a telephone interview from the Taft
>  Correctional Institute in California. "I had become another
>  persona. But he had some science that could disprove that."
>
>  In fact, it was not the first time Frederick Tupper Saussy
>  had become, if not another persona, at least a very
>  different person. (Editor's note: Saussy's coauthorship of
>  James Earl Ray's book Tennessee Waltz was the subject of a
>  Flyer story April 30th.)
>
>  He was a 1958 graduate of the University of the South in
>  Sewanee, where his fraternity brother, Patrick Anderson,
>  remembers him as one of the most popular boys on campus, a
>  musician, and cartoonist for the campus paper. His first job
>  was as a prep-school teacher at Montgomery Bell Academy in
>  Nashville. He married a teenager named Lola Haun, a Fifties
>  girl with looks, family money, and a Corvette.
>
>  "I was in the wedding party, and it was a huge wedding,"
>  says Anderson, now a novelist in Washington, D.C. "There
>  were endless parties that the most famous people in town
>  were giving for them."
>
>  The couple had two children and a house on posh Belle Meade
>  Boulevard. Saussy became a successful advertising
>  copywriter, known for his clever jingles and eccentricity.
>  He and his wife had a pet monkey they named Thelonious Monk.
>
>  "He came and charmed Nashville,"
>  recalls author David Halberstam, who
>  knew Saussy when Halberstam worked
>  for The Tennessean in the early
>  1960s. "He played the piano and
>  married a beautiful woman. They were
>  the golden couple. Everything seemed
>  to be his."
>
>  A talented jazz musician, Saussy began to concentrate on
>  songwriting. He had a minor hit, "Morning Girl," which was
>  nominated for a Grammy, and wrote other songs performed by
>  the Nashville Symphony, Chet Atkins, Perry Como, Ray
>  Stevens, and others.
>
>  But the marriage ended in 1972, the songwriting career
>  stalled, and the clever wordsmith who penned corny jingles
>  for Purity Dairy turned his attention and skills to more
>  serious matters. It was at about that time that Saussy was
>  audited by the IRS. When Anderson ran into his old friend in
>  the mid-Seventies, all Saussy wanted to talk about was taxes
>  and the monetary system.
>
>  "I think it's tragic he got off on this political kick,"
>  said Anderson. "He is, in my opinion, a totally
>  non-political person. He was living in a fantasy world. I
>  don't think he had any sense of what he was doing or what
>  the consequences could be."
>
>  In 1976, Saussy and his second wife and their 2-year-old son
>  moved to Sewanee, seeking an idyllic, protected life on the
>  mountaintop. He made money doing advertising and selling his
>  watercolors. And he became enamored of Irwin Schiff, whose
>  book The Biggest Con was something of a bible of the tax
>  movement.
>
>  Saussy would become, by turns, a self-styled theologian,
>  restaurant owner, ghostwriter of James Earl Ray's biography,
>  King assassination conspiracy theorist, anti-government
>  pamphleteer, and radical opponent of the federal
>  government's taxation and monetary authority.
>
>  His life as a fugitive apparently also had its share of
>  surprising and colorful twists and turns. His flight was
>  supported, if not assisted, by Jim Garrison, the late New
>  Orleans prosecutor and famous JFK assassination conspiracy
>  theorist. "Blowing about as the spirit led me" and going by
>  various aliases, Saussy spent time as a religious counselor,
>  pianist, computer handy man, homeless person, Bible student,
>  and patron of public and university libraries from Seattle
>  to Key West to Nashville. He played piano in various
>  nightclubs. He was in Washington, D.C., a few years ago when
>  the Statue of Freedom was removed from the dome of the
>  Capitol. Five years ago he abandoned the hairpiece he was
>  wearing as a disguise and began living a relatively normal
>  life with his third wife, Nancy, in Southern California.
>  Some of the people who cared for him knew his identity;
>  others did not. One of those who did was a fellow fugitive
>  who got caught and gave federal agents information that led
>  to Saussy's capture.
>
>  "It was not the miserable existence one's imagination is
>  prone to depict," he says. "I was never without a keyboard
>  or music. If you had walked through Rainier Center Mall in
>  Seattle's downtown during the summer of 1988, you'd have
>  seen me playing Bach's Goldberg Variations on the Steinway
>  grand that sits in the atrium."
>
>  In an eight-page letter and the first interviews he has
>  given since his capture, Saussy discussed his flight, his
>  prison routine, and his life on the lam (or on the Lamb, as
>  he says in reference to his Christian faith) which he plans
>  to describe in detail in a book. He seemed cheerful, upbeat,
>  and at peace with himself.
>
>  "Tupper had to come back at some time," he says.
>
>  After he was captured last year, Saussy spent several months
>  in lockdown in Atlanta, where he passed time writing and
>  reading the Bible while in virtual solitary confinement. At
>  Taft, a low-security prison near Los Angeles, he is choir
>  director and unofficial inmate counselor and prison
>  minister. His former attorney, Lowell Becraft, says Saussy
>  will probably have to serve a total of about 20 months in
>  prison.
>
>  "I'm spending my time productively," Saussy says. "It's a
>  marvelous experience. The fields are ripe for harvest and
>  there is a lot of harvesting going on."
>
>  He was delighted to find a piano in the chapel at Taft, and
>  has been giving voice, composition, and piano lessons to
>  several promising inmates. One of the worst things about
>  Atlanta, he says, was that he had to go five months without
>  playing the piano, the longest such stretch in his life.
>
>  He has not necessarily changed his views on government but
>  seems to be planning a law-abiding life when he gets out of
>  prison. If he is not exactly repentant about his
>  pre-fugitive days, he does have misgivings about butting
>  heads with federal authority.
>
>  "I had been reduced to an angry, frustrated voice that had
>  no hope of ever being clearly brokered through channels of
>  information most people trusted," he says. "Worse, I was
>  beginning to discover that my approach was all wrong."
>
>  He had been neither a good Christian nor an effective
>  citizen. Prison was no place for him to take his civil
>  activism and view of morality. What he needed, he believed,
>  was "a term in the desert, like the Apostle Paul."
>
>  So he ran, but not until he puckishly filmed himself outside
>  the Atlanta prison "reporting directly to the institution"
>  as ordered.
>
>  Saussy's refusal to file income-tax returns got him in
>  trouble in the first place. Technically, he filed a Fifth
>  Amendment return, a discredited tax dodge that was popular
>  with tax protesters in the 1970s and early 1980s. He also
>  issued something called PMOC, or "Public Money Office
>  Certificates," and used them instead of money to pay for
>  some services while living in Sewanee.
>
>  In the early 1980s, the federal government began cracking
>  down on outspoken tax protesters, whose numbers were then
>  estimated even by the IRS at 40,000 or more. Small towns in
>  the Ozark Mountains of Arkansas were havens for tax
>  protesters, one of whom, a fugitive named Gordon Kahl, was
>  killed in a shootout with local lawmen and the FBI near
>  Walnut Ridge in 1983. Saussy said he knew of Kahl and his
>  Arkansas sympathizers but did not share their racist and
>  violent views. He also supported a group of Memphis tax
>  protesters led by Franklin Sanders who were tried and
>  acquitted on tax charges in 1991.
>
>  Saussy himself was convicted on only one count of failure to
>  file tax returns. But he drew attention to himself with his
>  courtroom antics and his outspokenness, prompting U.S.
>  District Judge Thomas Hull to tell him, "You're so
>  intelligent it hurts you."
>
>  Due partly to Garrison's influence, Saussy began to fear
>  that security guards at the federal prison in Atlanta "could
>  easily liquidate me"-a rather grandiose claim for someone
>  facing a one-year sentence on a misdemeanor count. But
>  coupling those fears with his suspicions about prison
>  attacks on his new pen pal James Earl Ray and his general
>  disillusionment with the federal government, Saussy chose
>  "disappearance, or civil death."
>
>  Following his video stunt outside the prison, he flew to
>  Dallas and on to California by private plane.
>
>  He is vague about exactly how he supported himself.
>
>  "Whatever I needed was just there," he says. "I would do
>  computer work for people without ever submitting a bill. I
>  haven't submitted a bill for services since the early 1970s.
>  If a person cares to reward me, I thank the Lord for it."
>
>  He maintained telephone contact with his family and a few
>  years ago began living with his wife in California. He
>  changed his appearance only when he was paranoid about
>  getting caught, but relaxed when there seemed to be no
>  concerted effort to find him.
>
>  "I considered myself America's Least Wanted," he says.
>
>  His travels even took him back to Nashville, he says, and he
>  corresponded with friends there and in Chattanooga. He
>  remains something of a hero to some of them.
>
>  "He's one of the people who can help make the country back
>  the way it was when it was in its greatness rather than when
>  it was declining," says Jim Woods, an old friend from
>  Tullahoma.
>
>  He is not, however, remembered as fondly by everyone in
>  Sewanee. Rusty Leonard, an attorney in nearby Winchester and
>  resident of Sewanee, says his involvement in one of Saussy's
>  tax schemes cost both him and his father dearly. Leonard's
>  father, a physician, went to prison for filing Fifth
>  Amendment tax returns. The younger Leonard pled guilty to a
>  single misdemeanor count of failing to collect taxes on his
>  former business.
>
>  "Tupper pointed us in the direction and let us make our own
>  mistakes," Leonard says. "I got myself in my own mess. My
>  criticism of Tupper is that his entire motivation was in his
>  pocketbook, either making money off what he was doing or
>  taking advantage of someone. He's a brilliant man, but he
>  did hurt a lot of people."
>
>  Leonard lost an election for Circuit Court judge last week
>  and believes he would have won if not for the cloud that was
>  cast over his record.
>
>  There are only 393 fugitives currently in the IRS Criminal
>  Division's database, according to the IRS. But Saussy's
>  involvement with this little band proved to be his undoing.
>
>  "There's a saying in prison, 'shave ten, nail a friend'," he
>  says contemptuously of the captured fugitive he believes
>  turned over a phone number that, with a little detective
>  work, led to his capture.
>
>  Saussy acknowledges his role in the strange transformation
>  of James Earl Ray from assassin to political prisoner. After
>  pleading guilty to King's murder in 1969, Ray soon recanted
>  and unsuccessfully sought a trial. For the next 29 years
>  until his death last month, he put forth various conspiracy
>  theories and persuaded, among others, King's family, the
>  Rev. James Lawson, and several Memphis ministers of his
>  innocence. The request to reopen the case has now reached
>  U.S. Attorney General Janet Reno, who was in Memphis last
>  week visiting the site where King was shot.
>
>  In the mid-1980s while imprisoned in Tennessee, Ray
>  apparently became aware of Saussy's anti-government views
>  from newspaper stories about his trial. He sent Saussy a
>  typed postcard asking if he would help write his
>  autobiography.
>
>  "Both Ray and King were sacrificial victims," Saussy says.
>  "I never asked James why he chose me, but I believe he
>  sensed a common denominator among the three of us."
>
>  There followed a box of 175 handwritten pages that became
>  the basis for Tennessee Waltz - a book stylishly edited and
>  generously interwoven with Saussy's own literary,
>  intellectual, and philosophical musings.
>
>  Saussy denied authorship in a foreword to the book, and
>  Ray's obituaries last month dutifully gave the confessed
>  assassin a bogus book credit. But in an interview, Saussy
>  admits he wrote parts of the book himself and rewrote or
>  edited the rest based on interviews and letters from Ray. It
>  was financed by a reader of his newsletter named Milton and
>  his wife who detoured from a cross-country trip to visit him
>  unannounced in his office in Sewanee.
>
>  "I deliberated prayerfully over whether I should claim
>  credit for 'as told to' status, and concluded that James had
>  been taken advantage of by enough vain mercenaries," he
>  says.
>
>  As it turned out, Ray did not return the favor. After the
>  book was published by Saussy in 1987, Ray disavowed parts of
>  it and sued Saussy.
>
>  "If certain facts were not correctly presented, he had only
>  himself to blame, as he owned the stamp of approval," Saussy
>  says.
>
>  The lawsuit was later dropped, but a makeover edition of
>  Tennessee Waltz, retitled Who Killed Martin Luther King?,
>  was later published. It too ran into controversy because of
>  unauthorized blurbs on the cover. Newspaper columnist Carl
>  Rowan, King associate Andrew Young, and King's son Martin
>  Luther King III told The Washington Post in 1991 that they
>  were quoted without permission and did not advocate the
>  views expressed in the book. Young and Martin Luther King
>  III have since become conspiracy supporters.
>
>  Saussy still thinks Ray was innocent.
>
>  "He [Ray] was not up to an assassination," says Saussy. "I'm
>  sure if he had sniffed murder in the errands he was running
>  he would have run the other way. He just didn't want
>  trouble."
>
>  Saussy says he does not personally know Lawson or Ray's
>  attorney William Pepper, but he admires them and their work.
>  Pepper, he says half-seriously, "should found a James Earl
>  Ray School of Law specializing in criminal defense of
>  indigent political targets."
>
>  And if he is wrong about Ray?
>
>  "Then I've been conned," he says. "No man's opinions are
>  infallible."
>
>  Last December, when Saussy returned to Chattanooga for
>  sentencing, he briefly passed by some reporters. He smiled
>  at them and said, "I believe in happy endings."
>
>  After half a year in prison, he thinks he has found it, even
>  if it is not exactly the one his old friends once imagined
>  for him.
>
>  "I want the government to get its pound of flesh," he says.
>  "And I want to be safe behind my shield of Christian faith."
>
>  [Weekly Wire Suggested Links]
>
>     * Memphis Flyer's News Feature Archives
>     * John Branston Archives
>
>                                               [Memphis Flyer]
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>                                           Saussy in the early
>                                            '60s, when he was
>                                          charming Nashville.
>
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>
>
>           � 1995-99 DesertNet, LLC . Memphis Flyer . Info Booth . Powered
>        by Dispatch
>  [Weekly Wire]
>





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