Friday, August 22, 2014

Robert McDonnell throws his wife under the bus at trial


Eugene Robinson
Opinion writer August 21 at 8:03 PM
How far would you go to stay out of jail? Would you publicly humiliate your wife of 38 years, portraying her as some kind of shrieking harridan? Would you put the innermost secrets of your marriage on display, inviting voyeurs to rummage at will?

For Robert McDonnell, the former Virginia governor on trial for alleged corruption, the answers appear to be: “As far as necessary,” “Hey, why not?” and “Sounds like a plan.”
 
McDonnell’s testimony this week in a federal courtroom in Richmond about his wife’s psychological turmoil has been both cringe-worthy and compelling. It has been clear for some time that McDonnell’s strategy for winning acquittal amounted to what could be called the “crazy wife” defense. But only when he took the stand did it become apparent how thoroughly he intended to humiliate the “soul mate” he still claims to love.

McDonnell disclosed Thursday that he moved out of the family’s home shortly before the trial began. “I knew there was no way I could go home after a day in court and have to rehash the day’s events with my wife,” he testified.  I guess not. Anyone who said such things in public about his or her spouse would be advised to clear out.

McDonnell testified that Maureen McDonnell was so volatile that the entire staff at the governor’s mansion signed a petition threatening to quit if her behavior didn’t improve. “She would yell at me,” he told the court. “She would tell me I was taking staff’s side, that I didn’t know what was really going on over there.”

He said he believed his wife needed professional counseling, though it was unclear whether he tried very hard to convince her to seek it. He spoke of the family’s severe financial problems, which included large credit card bills, and said that “it just seemed like there was too much stuff that she was buying.” Prior testimony has indicated, however, that unwise real estate investments caused most of the problem — and that Robert McDonnell, not Maureen, ran the family finances.

The former governor’s defense presented a private note he wrote to his wife in 2011 that said, in part, “You told me again yesterday that you would wreck my things and how bad I am. It hurt me to my core. I have asked and prayed to God so many times to take this anger away and heal whatever hurt is causing it . . . some going back years and years. He has not yet answered those prayers.”

To top it off, when McDonnell was asked by his lawyer if he thinks his wife had a “strong emotional attachment” to another man, he answered, “Yes.” When pressed whether this encompassed a physical affair, he said tepidly, “I don’t believe so.”

No, I wouldn’t recommend that he go home just yet.

Why is McDonnell trashing his wife in such a caddish manner? Because the man with whom Maureen McDonnell had that emotional bond, entrepreneur Jonnie Williams, gave the McDonnells more than $177,000 in gifts and loans. Prosecutors allege that McDonnell — in return — helped promote Williams’s firm, Star Scientific, which made dietary supplements.

McDonnell’s defense is basically that it was his wife who had the close relationship with Williams and was the beneficiary of most of his largess, which included a lavish shopping trip to New York. From other testimony, however, we know that there were gifts that more directly benefited McDonnell — golf clubs, greens fees, a Rolex, trips on a private jet, the use of a Ferrari.
McDonnell claims that, in any event, he didn’t promise or deliver anything out of the ordinary to Williams in return. If Williams believed otherwise, then the profligate, needy, “emotional” Maureen McDonnell must have given him the wrong impression.

It is sad that a politician with a reputation as a Virginia gentleman would mount such an ungallant defense. And it is clear that in this case, at least, it took two to make a dysfunctional marriage.
After all, McDonnell has testified about occasions on which he did take the side of staff members in disputes with his wife, rightly or wrongly. He has said he was happy about her friendship with Williams. He has told of being “emotionally, physically unavailable” to his wife. He has confessed to working late because “I couldn’t come home and listen” to her complaints.

A jury will decide whether McDonnell was an honest public servant. By his own account, he wasn’t much of a husband.

Friday, August 1, 2014

Here’s Jonnie: Cue the rapt gaze from former Va. first lady Maureen McDonnell



Witness Jonnie Williams arrives with his attorneys to testify in the trial of former Virginia governor Robert F. McDonnell at the federal courthouse in Richmond on Thursday. (Nikki Kahn/The Washington Post)
Petula Dvorak
Columnist July 31 at 2:35 PM
There are no innocents among the star characters in Courtroom 7000, where the former governor of Virginia and his wife are standing trial in a federal public-corruption case.

The prime players are all manipulators — the helmet-haired politician who once aspired to 1600 Pennsylvania Ave.; his striving, ex-cheerleader wife; and the fast-talking nutritional supplement entrepreneur. 

On Wednesday, the rapt gaze of former Virginia first lady Maureen McDonnell followed Jonnie Ray Williams, a former car salesman turned nutraceutical entrepreneur, as he strode across the courtroom and took the witness stand for the first time. I was waiting for her to clasp her hands together and moon, “Oh, Jonnie,” or maybe blow him a kiss. 

Her puppy crush is a sad act scripted to avoid jail time for allegedly selling the prestige of the governor’s office in exchange for the Rolex on her husband’s wrist, the Ferrari joy ride, the private jet trips, the $70,000 life raft to save a real estate investment, the vacation at the lake house, the help with a daughter’s wedding, the fancy golf gear and the rounds of golf Bob McDonnell and his sons played at $300 a pop.

No wonder one of the jurors got sick in the middle of the trial this week.
Think of former California governor Arnold Schwarzenegger and the baby he conceived with the housekeeper and somehow managed to keep hidden from his wife, Maria Shriver, for more than a decade. Or New Jersey’s James E. McGreevey, married with two kids, coming out of the closet 10 years ago and resigning over a consensual affair with a man. Or the scandal that engulfed South Carolina’s Mark Sanford, who briefly disappeared five years ago, purportedly “hiking the Appalachian trail,” and then left office in disgrace after admitting that he actually had been with a mistress in Argentina. 

Or if you want to go all the way back to 1973, we can talk about Maryland’s Marvin Mandel, who announced that he was in love with another woman and then watched helplessly as his wife, Bootsie, barricaded herself in the governor’s mansion in Annapolis. 

Governors, they’re just like us.

The McDonnells are no different. They were an upper-middle-class family with five kids when they landed in a high-profile world of money and prestige. They were in over their heads.Williams saw them as an easy target — self-made folks who never saw a silver spoon until they earned one themselves.

So here comes this guy with a company called Star Scientific and a private plane and cash. He keeps pestering their 19-year-old son to play golf. He takes the wife on a high-end Manhattan shopping spree. He flies commercial so the McDonnells can have his Learjet. He pays for part of the McDonnell daughter’s wedding. When Williams and his wife go to the governor’s mansion for dinner, they bring the first lady a wallet to match the tres pricey purse from that New York retail binge.
 
“I have a background in nutritional supplements, and I can be helpful to you,” he testified that the first lady had told him. “. . . The governor says it’s okay for me to help you.”

Williams told the court that he called Bob McDonnell to double-check on this relationship. Not only did the guv say it’s all good, he wrote Williams a nice e-mail the next day, to thank him for what was by then $65,000 in checks to bail him out.  And then the governor showed up at Williams’s events. The first lady began promoting Williams’s product, a nutritional supplement whose main ingredient is a chemical found in tobacco. It was all business.

This wasn’t about a disintegrating marriage and an emotional, needy wife. This was a couple who presented themselves as a shining example of all that is moral and righteous. And once Virginians, believing that they were good people, had put McDonnell in office, they allegedly sold off what the people of Virginia had given them — the public trust. That’s why they were charged in a 14-count federal indictment.

Most of us play by the rules, refusing to give in to greed on a daily basis. Every single day in America, a police officer rejects a bribe, a truck driver fills out his mileage without any fudging, a reader pays for a newspaper at the box instead of swiping it off someone’s stoop, a store clerk gives change without trying to pocket an extra $5. Integrity and honesty abound in this country.

The McDonnells, by contrast, seemed all too eager to cash in. Ferraris? Plane rides? Golf clubs? A wedding catered? They knew better.

Did Williams want to be friends with the McDonnells? “He’s a politician. I’m a businessman,” Williams deadpanned. “This was a business relationship.”

All the lovesick melodrama about the first lady having a crush on Williams has probably been manufactured by the defense attorneys. Maybe they have some evidence to back up this story line. But when this scandal began, Bob and Maureen McDonnell showed up in court holding hands, presenting themselves as a solid, Christian couple.

Now they are changing that narrative, walking in and out of court in separate entourages, riding different elevators, brushing past each other without even making eye contact. The staging borders on ridiculous. They are doing nothing more than selling Virginians another tale.

The saddest thing about the whole affair? She probably never even got to have one..