Two Pictures of Rep. Bob Ney

Ohioan known for political skill mired in Capitol Hill murk

5 Dec 2005 // The bill represented the two sides of Rep. Bob Ney: It was a tribute to his legislative acumen and it illustrated the ethical episodes
that have made him a key player in a federal investigation.

In the Old Executive Office Building on that day in 2002, President Bush hailed Ney for skillfully guiding to his desk legislation to overhaul the
nation's election laws.

What Bush didn't know is that Ney surreptitiously had tried to use the bill to advance the casino interests of Jack Abramoff, a Washington lobbyist who gave Ney-doesn't-pay orders to employees at his Capitol Hill restaurant.

If allegations of ethical misconduct are true, Ney is Washington's version of Jekyll and Hyde: an affable and pragmatic lawmaker who gets things done by working both sides of the congressional aisle and a denizen of the D.C. subculture that revolves around money and favors and, ultimately, trouble.

The salt-of-the-earth son of Belmont County now finds himself under investigation by the Justice Department because of his relationship with
Abramoff, who was indicted last August by a federal grand jury in Florida on charges of defrauding lenders. Abramoff also is the subject of a broad federal investigation related to his lobbying in Washington.

Ney, who now lives in Heath, went to Scotland in 2002 to play golf on a trip allegedly financed by Abramoff. He has accepted tickets from Abramoff to
sporting events in Washington. He was a regular at Abramoff's tony Washington restaurant where one former employee told The Dispatch that
Abramoff left orders not to charge Ney for drinks and food.

Two weeks ago, Michael Scanlon, a former business associate of Abramoff's, pleaded guilty to one count of conspiracy and agreed to testify for the
government. In a plea agreement, Scanlon charged that he and Abramoff supplied Ney and his staff with free trips, sports tickets and lavish meals
in exchange for the congressman's assistance to their clients.

"I think it looks like (Ney's) a target (of federal prosecutors)," said Stanley Brand, a criminal defense lawyer in Washington. "What other
conclusion can you draw?"

The gifts Ney allegedly took may appear small compared with the $2.5 million in bribes from defense contractors that Rep. Randy "Duke" Cunningham,R-Calif., pleaded guilty to receiving before resigning last week. But Norman
Ornstein, a political analyst at the American Enterprise Institute, said Ney is in trouble if prosecutors have allegations against him "nailed down . . .no matter how petty."

Ney and his attorney have insisted that he is not a target of the federal investigation and that he is cooperating with prosecutors. They have
contended that Ney was duped and betrayed by Abramoff and Scanlon. Published reports have said that prosecutors are focusing on a number of lawmakers with ties to Abramoff, but Ney is the only one to be singled out publicly.

Despite Ney's problems, GOP colleagues and lobbyists stood by him at a fundraiser Thursday at the Columbus Athletic Club. Ney, accompanied by his wife, Elizabeth, barred a Dispatch reporter and photographer from entering,
complaining that the media have unfairly targeted and indicted him.

"We've said all we're going to say about this," Ney said, declining to answer questions.

>From interviews with colleagues, staff members and lobbyists -- many of whom asked not to be identified so they could be more candid -- as well as public records, a portrait emerges of Ney as a formidable politician who remains popular in his southeastern Ohio district. But those same interviews and records show his willingness to associate with people who have either broken
the law or are the subject of investigations.

In office for the past 20 years -- 10 each in the Ohio Senate and U.S. House -- Ney has a record of producing for his constituents, bringing home money for roads, hospitals and colleges in his district, which stretches from just east of Columbus to the Ohio River.

In Washington, he is known as the "Mayor of Capitol Hill," a title bestowed by virtue of his chairmanship of the powerful House Administration
Committee. He has used that position to endear himself to colleagues,including rushing laptops and other portable electronic gear to their
offices in the chaotic aftermath of the 2001 terrorist attack.

And Ney has sufficient wattage to extract revenge for perceived slights: told he could bring only one guest to the 2002 White House Christmas party,
Ney reportedly cut the number of parking spaces for White House officials on Capitol Hill.

Even before the current federal investigation, Ney has been on the periphery of ethics scandals. As a state senator from 1984 through 1994, Ney "always had a cloud" over him, one former Senate Republican colleague said,recalling a bribery scandal in the 1990s. Ney had been in Congress three years when two of his former top Senate aides went to jail as felons,including Thomas Strussion, a high-school football star from Ney's hometown of Bellaire.

After working a few years for Ney, chairman of the Senate insurance committee, Strussion opened a lobbying business and was signing up major
insurance interests. Within three years he owned homes in exclusive areas of Columbus and Arizona, drove expensive cars and frequented Zeno's and other Columbus nightclubs, often accompanied by Ney, whose 12-year marriage to his first wife, Candy Sue, was dissolved in 1996.

"I was right there (partying) with him because, in our younger days, we both played hard and worked hard," said Neil S. Clark, a Columbus lobbyist and a senior Ohio Senate aide while Ney was in the legislature. "Even if something
does go wrong, I'm going to be at his side because he's been my friend for 25 years."

News reports suggested links between Ney's legislative acts and the interests of Strussion's clients, including Ney's sponsorship of a bill that would have forced the merger of rival health insurers. Ney was never implicated in any criminal or ethical investigations.

By 2002 as a congressman, Ney became a steady customer at Signatures, a swank restaurant on Pennsylvania Avenue within sight of the Capitol dome and once partly owned by Abramoff.

"He was there quite a bit. His dinner checks were normally picked up by Mr. Abramoff," said the former Signatures employee, who spoke only on condition of anonymity. And "nine times out of 10," bartenders were told not to charge Ney for drinks at the restaurant's bar, said the employee, adding that Ney was "very cordial, very nice" when he came into Signatures.

When The New York Times published a story in July about lawmakers who went to Signatures, Brian Walsh, a Ney spokesman, wrote in an e-mail to the
newspaper that "there were times when meals and/or drinks were bought by (Ney) or for him by other members, lobbyists, or other persons, all within the limits of the (House) gift rules."

House rules forbid a member from accepting things such as meals, drinks and entertainment worth $50 or more at any one time or $100 from any single
source over the course of a year.

Among the allegations against Ney are that he placed statements in the Congressional Record in 2000 at the request of Scanlon, an associate of
Abramoff's. The statements, including one that Scanlon said he wrote, were designed to assist Abramoff and Adam Kidan in their attempt to purchase a casino cruise line in Florida. A federal grand jury in Florida indicted
Abramoff and Kidan in August for their role in the purchase of that cruise line.

In July 2001, when the cruise-line deal already was controversial, the South Florida Sun-Sentinel quoted Ney's chief of staff, Neil Volz, as pledging to return to Kidan a $1,000 campaign contribution made to Ney. Volz later left
Ney to work in Abramoff's lobbying firm.

After refunding the contribution to Kidan, Ney did not end his association with Abramoff. In 2002, Abramoff arranged for a client -- the Tigua tribe in Texas -- to funnel $32,000 in campaign contributions to Ney. That same year, Abramoff reportedly financed Ney's golfing trip to Scotland.

Abramoff alleges in e-mails released by a Senate committee that Ney had agreed to slip a provision into the election-reform bill that would have
helped the Tigua tribe to reopen its Texas casino. The provision never made it into the bill because of objections from a Senate co-author.

Ney has said Abramoff duped him into trying to get the provision into the bill.

On Aug. 10, after Ney returned from Scotland, Abramoff wrote in an e-mail that Ney "had a great time and is very grateful, but is not going to mention the trip to Scotland for obvious reasons. He said he'll show his thanks in other ways, which is what we want."

News of Ney's trouble has echoed across the hills of his rural district, but he remains popular and even some of Ney's political foes don't want to
believe he did anything illegal.

Born and raised Catholic in gritty Bellaire across the river from Wheeling, W.Va., Ney's roots run deep in the scenic but economically declining district. Everybody seems to know him or his parents, who still live in Bellaire.

Belmont County Auditor Joseph A. Pappano, a Bellaire Democrat who has served in county office for 30 years, said, "I've known Bobby since he was born, so this is tough on me. I was hoping these things on Bobby would blow over, not
only for him but for his parents. When he said he was hoodwinked by Abramoff, I believe that he was."

Dennis Bigler, public service director in nearby St. Clairsville who was in Ney's first wedding, said he would "be extremely surprised if Bob would do anything dishonest. It's just not the Bob Ney I know."