Tuesday, November 27, 2007

FBI Raids Trent Lott's In-Law's Office

Thursday Update: More here, including link to indictment of Scruggs and others. [end update]


Federal law-enforcement authorities on Tuesday searched the law office of a high-profile lawyer who represents hundreds of Gulf Coast homeowners with lawsuits against insurance companies in Hurricane Katrina's aftermath.

At least seven FBI agents and federal prosecutors were searching the Oxford law firm of Richard "Dickie" Scruggs for a document that could have an "ancillary" connection to Katrina insurance litigation, a lawyer representing the firm said.


Scruggs is the brother-in-law of Sen. Trent Lott, R-Miss., who announced Monday that he will resign from office by the end of the year after 35 years in Congress.

Interesting timing, huh?

And here's an odd, related story:

Every eligible federal judge in north Alabama has stepped aside from presiding in the criminal contempt case of Mississippi trial lawyer Richard Scruggs, who is accused of disobeying an order by failing to turn over Katrina-related insurance documents to a court.

The 16 district judges and magistrate judges agreed to recuse themselves from the case at the request of Scruggs.

His lawyers contend none of them should hear the case since they are colleagues of U.S. District Judge William Acker, who initiated the criminal contempt prosecution.

Every judge? Because they knew the judge who initiated the charge? Could be right-on, just sounds weird.

***And who could forget this about Trent Lott and Katrina:

"Out of the rubbles of Trent Lott's house -- he's lost his entire house -- there's going to be a fantastic house. And I'm looking forward to sitting on the porch."

-- George W. Bush, Sept. 2


1 comment:

Anonymous said...


The signs carried outside the historic Old Capitol read, "Trent is Toast,"
"Trent the Traitor" and "Don't Trent on Me." It was right after Trent Lott had
appeared on the Black Entertainment Network, condemning his Mississippi
constituents for being segregationists, apologizing for the 1948 Magnolia-State
vote for the Dixiecrat ticket, stating that he had made a mistake by voting
against King Day and vowing his support for affirmative-action. Picketer
Glenda Hinson said that Lott had betrayed the state. Kevin Furlow dubbed
Lott an "embarrassment" for first endorsing, then reviling, Strom Thurmond.
It took five years, but the 488,000 who voted for the Confederate flag finally
got their wish. Lott was out.

Another picketer observed that "Lott actually abdicated the day that he
went on BET." Richard Barrett noted that "there was a time when young
men would have delighted to carry his torch, now they are content to bury
his corpse." Lott had descended from one of the most outspoken
neo-Confederates to one of the most infamous Negrophiles, all to try to
salvage his Senate leadership position and appease George W. Bush, who
had lambasted Lott for cheering former-segregationist presidential-candidate
Thurmond on his one-hundredth birthday. Bush had named more Negroes
to office than any chief-executive. But Lott, installing a Cuban in a
federal-judgeship and turning Mississippi into a colony of Mexico and
vassel of Asia, was not far behind.

Lott, who, at one point, had been mentioned as presidential-timber,
turned out to be a tragic figure. He was groomed by Congressman
William L. Colmer, the "Dean" of the House of Representatives and one
of the staunchest segregationists. Lott assumed the mantel not only
of Colmer, but of Jefferson Davis. Lott switched to the Republican Party,
when whites were fleeing the darkening Democrats, on the strength of
his having been an Ole-Miss cheerleader, carrying the Confederate-flag
onto the football-field and waving the banner in opposition to the forcing
of Negroes into the white school in 1962. He embodied not only the
"Solid South" and "Old South," but "The South Rising Again." Yet, at the
end, not a single caller to a "Super-Talk-Radio" poll supported him.

Lott had started out being not only young and affable, but aspiring and
astute. He lunged into political hot-spots, unafraid of "controversy," for the
segregationist cause. When the Internal Revenue Service attempted to
penalize white, segregated private-schools, fleeing integration, it was Lott
to the fore in behalf of the students. He not only opposed the IRS, but backed
the "voucher" plans, which would have allowed parents a tax-deduction for
educating pupils at segregated academies. He built upon Colmer's cadre
with his own network of segregationists, both young and old, announcing
that the Republican Party had become the "embodiment of Jefferson Davis."
He would glad-hand his constituents, with his omnipresent, Confederate-flag

Lott delighted that he was elevated to sit at Jefferson Davis' actual desk
and published photos of himself with segregated-school students,
conservative political-leaders and Confederate-heritage groups. He
voted against King Day, over objections of the Negro-lobby, and supported
cutting off funds to the King Center. But, then, scandal struck, as dizzying
power led to reckless corruption. Lott unexpectedly struck a deal to prevent
a full Senate-trial of Bill Clinton on impeachment-charges and embarked
on a sordid-saga of parlaying his influence to enrich himself and his newfound
"friends." He maneuvered a series of "sweetheart-deals" to ensconce his
brother-in-law, Dickie Scruggs, as a billionaire and Mississippi's richest-man.

The friends-of-Lott club would receive non-bid contracts from state-officials,
both Republican and Democrat, and reap multi-million-dollar fees for
work that should have been performed by salaried state-employees, at
no additional-cost to taxpayers. All the while, Lott would insist that
"I am not a rich man." Eventually, the dominoes began to fall, as Lott's
associates were convicted of corruption. As the noose drew tighter, Lott,
who had stubbornly refused to yield his seat, stepped aside. Lott had
made good on his pledge to become a "born-again" Negrophile. He voted
for the Voting Rights Act, which drew Negro-gerrymandered districts, as
well as for the "cold-case" bill, to prosecute Sixties' anti-Communists.
He, even, hyped fellow "born-again" integrationist, Charles Pickering.

When admonished to "stand fast" against those calling for him to
"apologize" for segregation, Lott threatened to sue those criticizing him.
"Business is good," claimed his lawyer, Scruggs, who never made good
on his threat, while Lott's daughter, who had attended a news-conference
of segregationists urging Lott to "hold the line," spewed profanity against
integration-opponents. Lott came out against the Confederate flag and, even,
tried to abolish the venerable Colonel-Reb slave-master mascot at his alma
mater. Loss after loss tarnished the once rising-star as Lott severed ties
to his grass-roots constituents. Lott even distanced himself from his own
mother, who had once threatened to shoot a newspaper-publisher, if he
printed integrationist-propaganda.

Lott had sought to establish a personal-dynasty, based upon the Negro-bloc
and the mega-rich. But, the Negroes would have nothing to do with him and
his businessmen-pals eventually left him in the lurch. No sooner had Lott
trashed his rural, Carroll-County roots than he took up with Japanese and
Mexican businessmen. He engineered the erection of a Japanese auto-plant
in Mississippi, with enormous state-subsidies, reducing beleaguered workers
to serfs to a foreign "plantation." Nissan, immediately, opposed the Confederate
flag and trotted out "Minact," its "Minorities in Action" program, to elevate
Negroes and Mexicans above Mississippians. As the plant's hands became
eight-to-one Negro, recalcitrant whites would be fired for being "racially-offensive."

One young worker, Joe Reel, who had spoken out against "being a slave to
the Japanese-occupation," was kicked out and hounded into killing himself.
Lott bragged about his role in enacting the Mexican super-highway, which
would bring Mexicans directly into Mississippi, without having to detour
through Texas. Lott's "free-trade" proclivities not only flooded his home-state
with foreign-goods but with Mexicans. During Lott's tenure, entire towns,
like Morton, became Mexican and entire industries, like Sanderson
chicken-processors, fell to migrant-labor, no longer "migrant." Lott strongly
supported amnesty for illegal-aliens and hung up the phone when constituents
would call to protest. Amnesty, corruption and indifference had taken their toll.

After approving the "cold-case" plan, Lott heard from supporters of L. D. Smith,
the young Vietnam-soldier killed by Negroes for wearing a Confederate-flag
on his uniform, inquiring if Lott intended to dredge up the Sixties' murderers.
Lott refused to even reply. When first elected to the Senate, Lott strode into
his raucous victory-celebration and the first hand he shook was Barrett's.
The celebration recalled earlier days when Lott, Colmer and Barrett would make
public-appearances, together. "Thanks," Lott gleamed. But, at his resignation,
the gleam was gone, the crowds dissipated and the ardor grown cold. Lott
had lockstepped with dreary politicos, such as Charles and Chip Pickering,
for "private-sector" enrichment, rather than public-service fulfillment.

Lott had weaseled State Farm into paying him off, despite his failing to procure
flood-insurance and policy-provisions against his vaunted hurricane-claims.
When his "business-is-good" brother-in-law turned the screws, Lott turned the
wheels and more favors flowed in. But, so did public-indignation. Lott had
concluded that he would likely be indicted, when a Democratic-Administration
was ushered into the White House, in the juggernaut for "change," and that
he had better "get while the getting was good." In his swan-song, Lott made
no mention of erecting a Smith Memorial or polishing Davis' desk, only of
"talking to friends" about his business prospects. Mississippi, that enchanting
land of statesmen and incomparable home of heroes, deserved better.


© 2007 The Nationalist Movement