-Caveat Lector- <A HREF="http://www.ctrl.org/">
</A> -Cui Bono?-
Thanks for the website. Here's the whole story on the Chiquita article:
http://www.brillscontent.com/
By George Ventura
Issue Date: February 2000
I was arrested on September 17, 1998. That was the day my world changed
forever. I was scheduled to participate in a deposition in Salt Lake City.
Chiquita Brands International, Inc., my former employer, had issued a
subpoena requesting that I be a witness in a civil suit the company had
brought against Cincinnati Enquirer reporter Michael Gallagher, who had
coauthored an extensive investigative report published that May about
Chiquita's activities in Latin America.
At the time, my career was riding high. I had just been made a shareholder
of the largest lawfirm in Utah, and I was living in Lima, Peru, on an
assignment involving an enormous amount of responsibility and trust for one
of thefirm's biggest clients. I felt as if I were the golden boy, the guy
who could pull together intricate deals in chaotic Latin American countries.
I had flown from Lima to Salt Lake City for the deposition at my own
expense. I tried to be accommodating and even arranged to have Patrick
Anderson, my former roommate at the University of Utah College of Law,
accept the subpoena on my behalf. I had not been named or identified in any
way in the Enquirer stories, but the subpoena asked that I provide details
of any communications I may have had with Gallagher or any other Enquirer
employee. Waiting for the court reporter to arrive so the deposition could
begin, I joked around with Patrick and his partners, Ken Brown and Mark
Moffat. We did know that there was some sort of criminal investigation
surrounding the Enquirer stories; a man named Perry Ancona, an attorney in
private practice who had been appointed a special prosecutor for Hamilton
County, Ohio, had called my wife at our home in Salt Lake and asked for me.
I was in Lima at the time, and my wife informed Ancona of this fact.
Just before the deposition began, the receptionist summoned Patrick. He said
he was busy, but she insisted, saying, "You'd better come right now; there's
a bunch of people that want to see you." Patrick left and came back a few
minutes later, pale and shaken, holding a three-page document. He told me,
"You have to poke your head out the door."
I didn't know what was going on. "What do you mean, I have to poke my head
out the door?" I said. More insistently, Patrick said, "There are about ten
cops out there that want to see you, and they said if they don't see your
face they will kick the door down." Still not understanding, I said, "Oh,
give me a break," and Patrick cut me off and said, "No, I'm serious. I am
dead serious. These bastards want to see you now." He grabbed mefirmly and
said, "You've got to come now and show your face."
At this point I was starting to get a bit freaked out, saying, "What's going
on?" as Patrick yelled, "Just shut up!" He opened the door and grabbed me
from behind and thrust me through the doorway.
Six or seven law-enforcement types awaited me. Some were visibly armed.
There were agents from the FBI and from the U.S. Marshals Service. There
were officers from the Hamilton County Sheriff's Office, along with the Salt
Lake County Sheriff's Office. I later learned that they had positioned more
officers at the building's exits and emergency exits. They wanted to make
sure I couldn't escape.
"We've got an indictment against Mr. Ventura, and we're here to place him
under arrest and take him back to Cincinnati," one of the cops said. The
three-page document Patrick had in his hand as he pulled me out of his
office was a ten-count felony indictment, charging me with five counts of
assisting others in "unlawful interception of communications" and five
counts of assisting others in the "unauthorized access to computer systems."
If convicted of all counts, I could serve more than 12 years in prison.
My heart was in my throat. I was terrified. I thought I was going to pass
out. It was like the outer edges got fuzzy and I was in a dream. This could
not be happening.
I didn't know that Gallagher had betrayed me, that he had made a deal with
Perry Ancona, the special prosecutor, less than a week before, agreeing to
turn over reporting materials that identified at least one confidential
source�me�in exchange for a sentence that would not include jail time. But I
knew something was up. I remember looking through the windows of the
conference room where the deposition was to be held and seeing that
Chiquita's attorney showed no emotion whatsoever. No surprise, no amusement,
not even minor curiosity.
Patrick and Ken got on the phone with Ancona and negotiated a deal: I would
immediately be arrested and processed in Salt Lake City and surrender my
passport. Since my lawfirm had me stationed in Peru, this effectively put an
end to my livelihood. I would travel to Cincinnati that evening and
surrender to the Ohio courts the following morning.
At that point I called my wife, LeeAnna. I burst into tears and buried my
face in my hands. I was very frightened.
There is no way to ease into a disaster, so I just told her, "Look, I'm down
at Patrick's office. There are all these people that want to arrest me and
take me to Cincinnati." All she could say was "What?" And I said, "You need
to get my passport and come down here now, as soon as possible."
She arrived and I surrendered my passport. She stayed with Patrick as Deputy
Roy Orton from the Salt Lake County Sheriff's Office and two or three other
officers took me to the Salt Lake County Metro Jail.
It was horrible. I was frightened to the point of almost being numb. As we
were walking out of the building, I asked Orton, "Look, my law firm is a
block away. Could you please not handcuff me? That would be very
embarrassing, to have people from my firm see me handcuffed." And he said,
"Sure. But you have to be handcuffed before you enter the jail." So I was
able to walk with my hands free to a nondescript sedan. I got in the front
seat, and Orton handcuffed me behind my back. But he was very nice about it.
He did it in a way that kept anybody else from noticing. I never saw a
judge. I did not pass Go. I just went right to jail.
We drove to the Salt Lake County jail and entered an underground parking
garage. I went through two sliding mechanical doors that closed behind me. I
was still handcuffed. I was searched. They took my belt. They took my shoes.
They took my suit jacket. Took my tie. They took the contents of my pockets.
Theyfingerprinted me. They took my photo. They took my blood pressure. The
nurse said, "Well, your blood pressure's really high." I remember giving her
a look as if to say, "What the hell do you expect?" They asked me a series
of questions. Was I HIV-positive, did I have any diseases? And I remember
Deputy Sheriff Orton. He came and found me, patted me on the shoulder, and
said, "I've done all the paperwork; as soon as your attorneys come, you'll
be out of here. Best of luck to you." A tiny piece of sanity and kindness as
I lost control of my life.
I was then put in a cell by myself. I was there for about 45 minutes. It was
pretty bad. You start getting even more frightened when you're alone, asking
all sorts of questions. How long is this going to last? Why is this
happening? What did I do that was so bad that made me end up here?
Meanwhile, my wife had to figure out how to post a bond. Bail was set at
$5,000, so she had to put up $500. I was released at about 1 p.m. By then we
knew we'd probably have to go through a similar process in Cincinnati, but
we had no idea of what bail would be there. So we quickly had to hire
someone to appraise our house in case we had to pledge it as collateral. And
then we had to arrange to get plane tickets tofly back to Cincinnati that
night. Ourflight left late that afternoon.
We had to get home to pack and say good-bye to our 11-year-old daughter, who
was about to get home from school. I found it very difficult to focus on the
drive home. My wife was screaming, "My God, what the hell is going on?" She
knew that I had spoken once with the Enquirer reporters about Chiquita the
previous October, but she had made me promise that I would never talk to
them again. She didn't know the extent to which I had been involved with
them. And so she justifiably felt extremely betrayed.
It was almost as if my wife were discovering that I had had an affair or
that there were another, dark and secret part of my life she had known
nothing about.
During that drive home, she asked so many questions. And I didn't know
exactly what was going on. I didn't know that Gallagher had betrayed me, or
what the special prosecutor actually knew. I certainly didn't think I had
committed a crime. So I could give her few answers. I told my wife that I
had had more than just the one conversation with the Enquirer reporters. I
told her, honestly, that I didn't know why I was being charged. The
indictment accused me of having accessed Chiquita's voice-mail system on ten
separate dates, but the dates in the indictment meant nothing to me.
While at Patrick's office, I had called a friend of mine, Vicki Farrar, an
extremely smart and intense litigation attorney in Park City, Utah, to see
if she could recommend a lawyer to represent me in Cincinnati. And when I
got home there were several messages�all from Vicki. They all said the same
thing: "Call me; call me; call me." She sounded frightened, so I called her
back even as we scrambled to make theflight to Cincinnati.
"Is there any way you can avoid going to Cincinnati?" Vicki asked me. "No,"
I answered. "They've got my passport, and I have to go." She sighed heavily
and said, "Oh, God, I wish you weren't going. I've heard some terrible
things. I've talked to a lot of high-powered attorneys. Be very careful when
you go to Cincinnati. Do not be alone at any time. Do not sit in front of
windows." I said, "Vicki, you're being paranoid. You're scaring me." She
continued, "The people I talked to scared me. You could get hurt. You could
get killed. I'm dead serious."
So here I was, sitting at the top of the stairs in my house, trying to
comprehend how things had turned upside down in less than eight hours. Just
then my daughter came home from school. And she was pretty freaked out when
she saw me. "Daddy, what's wrong?" she asked. "Well, we have to go
Cincinnati," I said. "Why are you crying?" she said. I answered, "Oh, it's
just, you know, I wasn't planning on going." I'll never forget watching my
daughter sob uncontrollably as she watched us drive away.
We got to Cincinnati late that night. The next morning, we met Marc Mezibov,
the Cincinnati lawyer Vicki had recommended, and I was arrested all over
again.
THE SETUP
I was hired by Chiquita in December 1991 to work as its senior legal counsel
in Ecuador. My wife's and my decision to accept a position with Chiquita was
based, to a large degree, on our sense of adventure and the thrill of the
unknown. My father is from Spain, and I lived in Barcelona until I graduated
from high school. My own family, however, had never lived abroad, and I felt
that my wife and children would greatly benefit from the experience. Our
day-to-day life in Ecuador was tough, though. Months-long garbage strikes,
water shortages, and power outages made even the simplest tasks a chore.
My family and I remained in Ecuador until July 1993, when I became
Chiquita's senior legal counsel in Honduras. Living in Honduras, however,
involved hardships that were equally as tough as those my family had endured
in Ecuador. In addition, our middle child (we have three), who was then 11,
balked at continuing the family's Latin American adventure. After much soul
searching, and because I had no other employment options that would take my
family back home, my wife and I decided to let him live with relatives in
the U.S.
Toward the end of 1995, I had made it publicly known that I would soon be
leaving Honduras; during the first week of January 1996, I made an official
announcement.
I joined the Salt Lake City lawfirm Parsons, Behle & Latimer in late January
1996. I provided legal services almost exclusively on behalf of one of
PB&L's largest clients�one of the largest gold producers in the world, which
was then beginning to construct a large gold mine in northern Peru. Given
the complexity of this project and the size of the client's investment, I
was asked in July 1997 to live in Peru and work exclusively for this client
for 18 to 24 months.
THE SEDUCTION
In October 1997, I was at my office in Lima, and, having just been connected
to the Internet, I began surfing around and found a notice on the website of
The Cincinnati Enquirer. It said that the paper was working on a story about
Chiquita and something like "If you have any information, we'd appreciate
being contacted." It listed an e-mail address. So I just sent a little
e-mail saying something like "I am a former Chiquita employee and I might
have some information that could possibly be of interest to you." I got an
e-mail back from Enquirer reporter Cameron McWhirter. He gave me a phone
number, which I called, and then McWhirter called me back. We chatted and
sort of eased into talking to each other. McWhirter said he and Gallagher
were doing an expos� on Chiquita. I had never dealt with reporters before�on
or off the record. But I did tell McWhirter right up front that I wanted to
remain anonymous. McWhirter assured me that "now I know who you are, but I'm
not going to...you know, I would never...we would never reveal it. I'd go to
jail and never reveal it." Gallagher reiterated those promises to me several
times. He said, "We're going to protect your identity" and that "we don't,
obviously, even mention your name...or allude to it in any way, shape, or
form." Gallagher even told me, "I've sat in a jail cell in Michigan for not
disclosing stuff before."
So we had a deal. Or so I thought. Actually, it's hard for me to say exactly
why I talked to them. I remember conferring with my Uncle Jordi ("George" in
Catalan) Ventura in Barcelona. He was a well-respected reporter, writer, and
professor, and I was named after him. Jordi said that he felt okay about my
entering into a quid pro quo with the Enquirer. He told me that journalists
had a time-honored commitment to protect their sources. He also told me that
if there was any good that could possibly come out of my experiences in
Latin America, and if there was a story that needed to be told, I had an
obligation to come forward.
The sum and substance of my contact with the reporters consisted of about a
dozen phone conversations between October 1997 and early 1998. They would
butter me up, throwing out comments like "It sure sounds like you had a lot
of responsibility" and play to my vanity. I think we all want to talk and
brag about what we do. You build up these incremental pieces of trust, and I
guess at some point you just get drawn in deeper and deeper. And you feel
like you already have an established relationship. I wanted to know what
they knew. Everybody likes to talk about what they know, to be able to say,
"Yes, I was involved in that or I knew about that." There is something akin
to a friendship that they're nurturing, bringing you along, seducing you.
Once I felt sufficiently comfortable talking with the reporters, I discussed
with McWhirter the simplicity with which most corporate voice-mail systems
can be readily accessed�in any setting or company. I also discussed with
McWhirter what I believed to be the passwords for the voice-mail boxes of a
few Chiquita executives. To test whether the passwords were correct, I had
accessed some of these voice-mail boxes. McWhirter told me he would relay
the information to Gallagher. This one telephone conversation formed the
basis of the ten-count felony indictment of me. Amazingly enough, I learned
at a court hearing on April 5, 1999, that Gallagher had already received the
same passwords from another source. McWhirter, at the same hearing,
testified that Gallagher had told him earlier that this other source was
"within" Chiquita.
It may be hard for some people to understand how I, an attorney, didn't know
this was illegal. I have worked outside the United States for more than half
my career and am no authority in this area of the law. Gallagher told me
early on in our relationship that he and the Enquirer editors had conferred
with the newspaper's legal counsel concerning the legality of his accessing
Chiquita's voice-mail system. Gallagher told me that the Enquirer's legal
counsel had given the go-ahead to his activities. At the hearing on April 5,
Gallagher admitted under oath that the Enquirer's attorneys subsequently
determined that the accessing of Chiquita's voice-mail system was illegal.
He also testified that he had not informed any of his sources about this.
Gallagher had certainly never mentioned this fact to me.
I dealt mostly with Gallagher. He'd call me at home, at the office, and on
my cell phone. He would let me know that he'd found out information. He knew
many things from different sources�including, Gallagher said, sources within
Chiquita. Initially, it appeared that all he wanted was for me to confirm
what he already knew, so I didn't feel as though I was actually providing
much information myself. Had I suspected for one minute that I was one of
their main sources, I would never have been as forthcoming. Gallagher's way
of dealing with me sort of drew me in further. I remember thinking, Well, he
already knows. I'm not the only person he's in contact with; I'm not
providing him with anything earth-shattering. He already is aware of
different things that are going on. I'm merely corroborating. And it gave me
a sense of comfort, for lack of a better term, that since I wasn't the only
person providing information, I wouldn't get into trouble.
The best way to describe our relationship is like a seduction. You think you
can trust this person. You slowly provide more and more details, more and
more information, and he, in turn, is providing you with more information
that he's obtaining from different sources. As you go further along, you
almost get a sense of danger and begin to think, God, I've provided a lot of
information. I kept reiterating, "Please, for God's sake, don't reveal my
name. I don't want to be exposed."
I did tell my wife up front that I'd been in contact with these reporters.
And my wife said, "Never, ever, talk to them again." And I said, "Okay, I
won't talk to them again."
And yet I did talk to them. And that's why I think my wife felt betrayed.
She had been so adamant in not wanting me to talk to them. Yet I felt this
compelling need over time to continue this relationship. I didn't think that
any harm would come out of it. I trusted my judgment rather than hers. She
just had a gut feeling that this could lead to trouble, and I thought to
myself, C'mon, it's not going to lead to any trouble. These guys are doing a
story. They already know a whole bunch of information, and they have vowed
not to reveal my identity.
At one point, very early on, I did jokingly say to Gallagher, "You're not
recording me, are you?" And he replied, "Oh, God, no. We're not recording.
Don't worry."
The truth of the matter is they taped many of the conversations they had
with me. Often both Gallagher and McWhirter would say something like "Look,
I'm on a phone where there are a lot of people around. I'm going to put you
on hold and transfer you over to a secure phone." I found out later, based
on Gallagher's testimony at that April 5, 1999, hearing, that they were
lying. Our calls were transferred to a phone that would automatically record
our conversations without my knowledge.
Oblivious to this, I slowly began to provide them with a general overview of
my living and working experiences in Ecuador and Honduras. As time went on,
Gallagher began telling me more and more information that he had obtained
from a source within Chiquita. I knew that the source was real and had to be
someone in a very high-ranking position, given the type of information that
Gallagher was receiving. This led me to corroborate data and to provide the
reporters with even more information.
Toward the end of April 1998, I received an e-mail from Gallagher that said:
"...a local police investigation [has been] launched, claiming we�or someone
inside or outside...working for us�stole their voice mail messages and
documents. Complete bull---t, but we have been keeping a low profile while
our lawyers handle all of this to protect all our sources. That is why we
haven't been contacting anyone. This will be my last message to you for a
while until the smoke clears. Sorry if you thought we abandoned you, but
what we are doing is trying to protect anyone we've ever talked to, sources
or not."
Now I felt a little scared. But I thought, Well, if these guys keep their
word, I should be okay.
I had no idea that I had been secretly recorded.
THE STORIES APPEAR
When the Enquirer stories were published, in a special section on May 3,
1998, I felt relaxed and less vulnerable. I thought that whatever potential
there had been for people investigating and trying to find out whether
Chiquita's voice mail system had been invaded would be erased because they
had now been published. It appeared to me that Gallagher and McWhirter had
done a lot of homework. The vast majority of the material in the stories,
accurate or not, never originated from me and didn't depend on anything that
I had ever related to the reporters.
At the time of the stories' publication, Enquirer editor Lawrence Beaupre
wrote this introduction: "Reporters Mike Gallagher and Cameron McWhirter
undertook a wide-ranging investigation into Chiquita's business practices.
After conducting scores of interviews in the United States and reviewing
numerous public and internal documents, Mr. Gallagher and Mr. McWhirter
traveled last summer to Costa Rica, Honduras, Panama, and the Caribbean
islands of St. Lucia and Dominica. They also traveled to Brussels, Antwerp,
Vancouver, New York and Washington, D.C. They spoke to a wide range of
sources, including farm laborers and managers, environmentalists, government
officials, financial experts, lawyers, professors and others."
I thought the stories might get a lot of reaction, but I never got involved
in this with any expectations in that regard.
THE STORIES VANISH
The Enquirer stories just sort of came and went. Or so it seemed to me. I
was still in Lima, and I read the stories on the Internet. I heard only once
more from Gallagher, shortly after May 3, 1998. He made me feel that
everything was okay. We really ruffled some feathers! he told me on the
phone, exultant. He said he greatly appreciated my help.
>From time to time, I accessed the Enquirer's website to see whether there
had been any fallout. To my utter shock, on June 28, June 30, and July 1,
1998, the paper published huge front-page apologies to Chiquita and
retractions of the stories. "The Enquirer has now become convinced that
the...representations, accusations and conclusions [by Gallagher] are untrue
and created a false and misleading impression of Chiquita's business
practices," the apology read. It also announced that Gannett had paid
Chiquita more than $10 million to forestall a civil suit.
I tried to figure out what the retraction meant. Were they retracting the
stories simply because some of the methodology was wrong or because the
substance of the stories and their conclusions were wrong? I was
dumbfounded. When I would access the Enquirer's website, every time I
clicked in to read the Chiquita stories I was greeted with the same
front-page apologies. The stories were gone. Vanished. That was pretty
amazing. To have something yanked like that�someone has to be wielding a lot
of power.
Gallagher was fired. Hung out to dry. Abandoned by those who had paid for
and encouraged him to get the stories. Charges were brought against him.
Even if it's true that the Enquirer and Gannett executives told Gallagher
not to access voice mail anymore, I think that was done with a wink and a
nod. In any event, they allowed him to continue on with the story for
months; he kept coming up with more and more and more and more information
that the paper then went ahead and printed. Still, I thought there was no
way to connect me to the stories:first, because the vast majority of them
didn't depend on anything I had ever related to the reporters; and second,
and more important, because Gallagher had promised me I wasn't being taped,
and both he and McWhirter had repeatedly promised�on pain of going to
jail�to keep me anonymous.
On July 2, 1998, Chiquita filed a civil suit against Gallagher, accusing him
of a whole host of wrongdoing: defamation, trespass, conspiracy, fraud, and
violations of state and federal wiretapping laws. It appeared to me that
because the Enquirer and Gannett had retracted the stories, apologized, and
paid Chiquita such an extraordinary sum of money just days before, neither
was named in the suit. Gallagher was cast out and was on his own.
I was the only source of Gallagher's to be prosecuted. I found out later, at
the April 5, 1999, hearing, that Gallagher had destroyed all his source
material just days before the stories were published. But for some reason
tapes surreptitiously made of me speaking with Gallagher and McWhirter were
preserved and then handed over to the special prosecutor. In the end, the
only evidence left pointed to me and only me.
THE BETRAYAL
I knew for certain that Gallagher had betrayed me on September 24, 1998, the
day he pleaded guilty to two felony counts of unlawful interception of
communications and unauthorized access to computer systems. Though I had
been arrested (twice) the week before and faced a possible penalty of more
than 12 years in prison, Gallagher's entire official criminal-processing
ordeal lasted less than two hours on September 24, at which time he was
arrested, released on his own recognizance, appeared before a judge, waived
indictment and arraignment, and pleaded guilty. He faced a potential of two
and a half years in prison, but his sentencing was put off for six
months�part of his deal for avoiding jail hinged on his cooperating with the
prosecutors trying to convict me. For me, the special prosecutor sought a
penaltyfive times more severe than what Gallagher faced.
Well, if he struck a deal, I thought to myself, they're whittling this case
down to me and the other sources. I started to get really, really
frightened.
I was in the same Cincinnati courthouse that day for another hearing. There
was just so much going on. I remember that my wife and I were reviewing some
evidence that Special Prosecutor Perry Ancona had provided to my attorneys.
Most of this evidence consisted of transcripts of the secretly taped phone
conversations between me and Gallagher and McWhirter. So here I am, being
confronted by my wife, who is sobbing, reading through documents, and
saying, "My God, I can't believe this...what did you do?" She wasfinding out
about all of my discussions, all that I had kept from her, piece by piece.
I was also facing a federal grand jury that was looking into the same
charges, though it never acted. State and federal authorities demanded that
I provide them with voice exemplars, but in the end they weren't even
needed, because the authorities said they were going to bring in Gallagher
to say "That's the man I talked to" and point to me.
Until that day, when Gallagher made the deal to identify me to keep himself
out of jail, I still did not know for certain that he had named me. I felt a
huge sense of betrayal. Later, at the April 5 hearing, Gallagher testified
that protecting a confidential source is "one of the highest
responsibilities a journalist has." He also acknowledged that he had
promised to keep my identity confidential. And then, in open court,
Gallagher identified me as his confidential source.
Gallagher said that he had other sources. But officially, he named only me.
I think it was safest for him to single me out for betrayal. I'm not from
Cincinnati. I had already left Chiquita and wasn't employed by the company.
Gallagher had probably met his other sources face to face, and this likely
weighed on his conscience. It was a lot easier for him to finger the person
he had never met face to face. And since Chiquita had already tried to
depose me, it is likely that they already suspected that I may have been one
of the Enquirer's sources. Gallagher may try to excuse his betrayal of me by
arguing that prosecutors already suspected me, but the only evidence that
prosecutors had came from Gallagher. Without his cooperation, I am
convinced, I never would have been indicted.
I saw Gallagher in person only once, at that April 5 hearing. He would not
make eye contact with me. I tried to look at him, and he just looked away. I
felt anger, even hatred, as I looked at him. His betrayal cost me my
law-firm partnership, my reputation, nearly all my family's savings; it took
an enormous toll on my wife and children.
But now, over time, I feel more pity toward him than anything else. He was
employed by the Enquirer and Gannett, and they didn't stand by him. They cut
him loose, and they left him to hang. I truly don't know if I would have
done something different if I had been in his shoes. He faced professional
and legal ruin, and a prison term. I'm sure he thought something like, I've
got two little kids; I've got to worry about my family and maybe try to cut
the best deal I can.
Of course it doesn't make what Gallagher did right. But I think ultimately
the responsibility lies at the feet of the Enquirer and Gannett. If the
Enquirer had said, "We live by this code, that we will protect sources. A
promise was made, and we stand by that promise. You were acting on our
behalf," it wouldn't have cast Gallagher out. If the Enquirer and Gannett
had done that, Gallagher wouldn't have been so desperate, and I don't think
he would have been driven to betray me.
In the wake of the Enquirer episode, Gannett issued what it termed its
Principles of Ethical Conduct for Newsrooms for its 74 daily newspapers.
Under the heading "Using unnamed sources," the principles state, in part:
Inform sources that reporters will disclose sources to at least one editor.
Editors will be bound by the same promise of confidentiality to sources as
are reporters.
Make clear to the reporters and to sources that agreements of
confidentiality are between the newspaper and the sources, not just between
the reporter and the sources. The newspaper will honor its agreements with
sources. Reporters should make every effort to clear such confidentiality
agreements with the editorsfirst. Promises of confidentiality made by
reporters to sources will not be overridden by the editors; however, editors
may choose to not use the material obtained in this fashion.
It appears to me that by adopting the principles, Gannett simply put into
writing what was already in practice, and for them not to abide by these
principles is reprehensible.
Gallagher took a beating, and I feel sorry for him. His life is a shambles,
as is mine, but to be the Judas of journalism is not a nice thing, and he's
going to be labeled that for the rest of his life.
In preparation for trial, we filed several motions to dismiss the charges
against me. Any one of them�had they been granted�would have caused the
entire case to be thrown out. But as wefiled and argued the motions it
became clear�to me, at least�that the cards were stacked against me.
Hamilton County Court of Common Pleas judge Ann Marie Tracey ruled against
each and every motion.
In retrospect, I was so naive. Maybe it's because I lived outside the United
States for so long. I don't know. You live in Third World countries and you
accept the fact that there are often forces behind the scenes that control
and subvert the system. You tend to imagine, even hope, that the same isn't
true in this country. You expect things to run smoothly. You expect that
people aren't unduly or unscrupulously influenced. And now I've come to
realize that these are bad expectations to have.
I believe that I ultimately would have prevailed in court; however, after
almost a year of defending myself, I had to cut my losses. The ordeal was
destroying me and my family. And so, on June 30, 1999, I ended up pleading
"no contest" to four misdemeanor counts of "attempted unauthorized access to
computer systems." I was sentenced to two years of unsupervised probation
and 40 hours of community service.
THE AFTERMATH
While cleaning out the piles of newspaper clippings I had accumulated over
the past year, I looked at the May 1999 American Journalism Review. In it,
the author claims that "both [McWhirter and Enquirer editor Beaupre] have
paid an enormous price emotionally and professionally." What crap.
Gallagher may have fingered me to save his own skin, but all of those at the
Enquirer and Gannett who worked with him, supervised him, and counseled him
are just as much to blame for what happened to me. Even more so. They still
have their jobs, their lives.
Because of the Enquirer debacle, I lost my position at my lawfirm�a
prestigious job that provided me with a respectable income. I spent more
than $150,000 from my savings and my kids' college funds in my defense. We
had to borrow money from friends. And I lost the trust and respect of
friends and colleagues, who look at me with doubt and concern.
At the beginning of this ordeal, a good friend told me that there would be
at least one positive result: I would know who my true friends were. He was
right, but I don't know how positive an education it has been. Even some
members of my own family have avoided me.
My wife has stuck with me through this, and I'm very blessed to have her.
Many spouses would have left months ago. But it has taken a toll on my
family�and on me. I've probably aged ten years in the past 12 months. I have
always been an extremely confident person; I felt like I could go into any
situation and be successful. Professionally, I've literally been airdropped
into the middle of nowhere and asked to pull off miracles in Latin America,
putting deals together. And you get a sense of extreme confidence doing
that. And I think I've lost a lot of that.
I have to rebuild and regain my confidence. I have to earn trust back from
so many people, starting with my wife, colleagues, and potential and
existing clients. I want to be able to stay in my community, to hold my head
high and not feel that I'm forced to leave. There are days when I feel I may
have to move somewhere else, but I don't want to have to do that.
My wife and I have just seen The Insider, starring Al Pacino, and it was one
of the few times I've ever cried at a movie. The parallels were uncanny.
Sitting in the semidarkness of the movie theater, I glanced around at others
in the audience and wondered if any of them could possibly understand just
how easily their lives could be turned upside down. How they could be
manipulated, abused, and discarded. I don't think they understand. I don't
think many people do.
SUBSCRIBE | ABOUT | MESSAGE BOARDS | ARCHIVE
Copyright Brill Media Ventures, L.P. 2000
February 2000
Search The Archives of ' Content
-----Original Message-----
From: Prudence L. Kuhn <[EMAIL PROTECTED]>
To: [EMAIL PROTECTED] <[EMAIL PROTECTED]>
Date: Sunday, January 16, 2000 10:40 AM
Subject: [CTRL] Reporters and Sources
>-Caveat Lector- <A HREF="http://www.ctrl.org/">
></A> -Cui Bono?-
>
>-----Original Message-----
>From: [EMAIL PROTECTED]
>[mailto:[EMAIL PROTECTED]]
>On Behalf Of Staci D. Kramer
>Sent: 2000. sije�anj 16 01:03
>To: [EMAIL PROTECTED]
>Subject: Reporters and Sources
>
>A couple of related articles caught my attention this weekend.
>
>The transcript of a taped conversation between an undersherriff involved in
>the Columbine investigation and a Time reporter who broke the story about
>the detailed videotapes made by the two teenage killers offers a glimpse
>into the relationship between reporter and source. Read the article in the
>Denver Post for details. No, I don't know if the reporter knew he was being
>taped.
>
>http://www.denverpost.com/news/shot0115.htm
>
>For a first-person account of what it's like to be a reporter betrayed by a
>source see
>"I Trusted A Reporter" by George Ventura, the former Chiquita employee
>whose identity was revealed by the reporter he trusted.
>
>http://www.brillscontent.com/
>
>Staci D. Kramer
>list owner, spj-ethics
>[EMAIL PROTECTED]
>http://spj.org/ethics
>
>
>-------------------------------------------
> *** NOTICE: In accordance with Title 17 U.S.C.
>Section 107, this material is distributed
>without profit to SPYNEWS eGroup members who
>have expressed a prior interest in receiving
>the included information for research and
>educational purposes only. For more information
>go to:
>http://www.law.cornell.edu/uscode/17/107.shtml
>
>***
>Mario Profaca, moderator
>mailto:[EMAIL PROTECTED]
>
>
>
>
>------------------------------------------------------------------------
>*__ ___ _ ___ __ ___ _ _ _ __
>/'_|'0 \'V'/'\|'|'__|'|'|'/'_|
>\_'\''_/\'/|'\\'|'_||'V'V'\_'\
>|__/_|'.//'|_|\_|___|\_n_/|__/
>http://mprofaca.cro.net/latest.html
>
>------------------------------------------------------------------------
>For the fastest and easiest way to backup your files and, access them from
>anywhere. Try @backup Free for 30 days. Click here for a chance to win a
>digital camera.
>http://click.egroups.com/1/337/0/_/7016/_/947981707/
>
>eGroups.com Home: http://www.egroups.com/group/spynews/
>http://www.egroups.com - Simplifying group communications
>
><A HREF="http://www.ctrl.org/">www.ctrl.org</A>
>DECLARATION & DISCLAIMER
>==========
>CTRL is a discussion & informational exchange list. Proselytizing
propagandic
>screeds are not allowed. Substance�not soap-boxing! These are sordid
matters
>and 'conspiracy theory'�with its many half-truths, misdirections and
outright
>frauds�is used politically by different groups with major and minor effects
>spread throughout the spectrum of time and thought. That being said, CTRL
>gives no endorsement to the validity of posts, and always suggests to
readers;
>be wary of what you read. CTRL gives no credence to Holocaust denial and
>nazi's need not apply.
>
>Let us please be civil and as always, Caveat Lector.
>========================================================================
>Archives Available at:
>http://home.ease.lsoft.com/archives/CTRL.html
>
>http:[EMAIL PROTECTED]/
>========================================================================
>To subscribe to Conspiracy Theory Research List[CTRL] send email:
>SUBSCRIBE CTRL [to:] [EMAIL PROTECTED]
>
>To UNsubscribe to Conspiracy Theory Research List[CTRL] send email:
>SIGNOFF CTRL [to:] [EMAIL PROTECTED]
>
>Om
>
<A HREF="http://www.ctrl.org/">www.ctrl.org</A>
DECLARATION & DISCLAIMER
==========
CTRL is a discussion & informational exchange list. Proselytizing propagandic
screeds are not allowed. Substance�not soap-boxing! These are sordid matters
and 'conspiracy theory'�with its many half-truths, misdirections and outright
frauds�is used politically by different groups with major and minor effects
spread throughout the spectrum of time and thought. That being said, CTRL
gives no endorsement to the validity of posts, and always suggests to readers;
be wary of what you read. CTRL gives no credence to Holocaust denial and
nazi's need not apply.
Let us please be civil and as always, Caveat Lector.
========================================================================
Archives Available at:
http://home.ease.lsoft.com/archives/CTRL.html
http:[EMAIL PROTECTED]/
========================================================================
To subscribe to Conspiracy Theory Research List[CTRL] send email:
SUBSCRIBE CTRL [to:] [EMAIL PROTECTED]
To UNsubscribe to Conspiracy Theory Research List[CTRL] send email:
SIGNOFF CTRL [to:] [EMAIL PROTECTED]
Om
