Tuesday, July 31, 2007

Don Feder: The Cult of Global Warming



GrassTopsUSA
7/31/2007

Global warming has become the apocalyptic cult of the new millennium. None of the other jeremiahs, throughout the ages, can hold an end-of-the-world candle to ozone-layer mystics prophesying climate Armageddon.

I just came across the ultimate Al Gore coffee table book, "The World Tomorrow: Scenarios of Global Catastrophe" by Yannick Monget.

On the jacket, the author is described as "the founder and chief representative of the Ankaa Group, an organization dedicated to conceiving and developing ambitious projects for the environmental protection of Europe."

If that weren't enough of a contribution to mankind, we are told Monget "has written several volumes of socially committed science fiction in France" - which didn't sell nearly as well as Gore's several volumes of socially committed science fiction, including "The Earth In Balance" and "The Assault on Reason."

"The World Tomorrow" is a lavishly illustrated book that stunningly depicts ecological end-times in familiar settings.

Singapore is demolished by super tornadoes. Fires ravage downtown San Diego (made to resemble Dresden during the Allied bombing). Torrential downpours and "terrible floods" drench Central Europe. (Prague looks like Venice during monsoon season.) Berlin's lush lawns are replaced by dusty, cracked earth. The ruins of Madrid are in the middle of a jungle. Moscow's St. Basil's Cathedral is stranded in a snowy wasteland. New York City is locked in ice. And D.C. is returned to the forest primeval, with what appears to be a giant, mutant iguana crawling in front of the Capitol - oh, I beg your pardon, Senator Clinton.

This enviro-porn compliments the ravings of Global Warming's nuttier acolytes - chimp girl Jane Goodall, at the Live Earth U.S.A. concert, squawking: "Up in the North the ice is melting. What will it take to melt the ice in the human heart?"

Not to be outdone, and demonstrating that the Kennedy clan loses brain cells with each succeeding generation (impossible as that may seem), Robert F. Kennedy Jr. -- son of RFK and president of something called the Waterkeeper Alliance - raved to the Live Earth audience: "Get rid of all of these rotten politicians (presumably, Republicans) we have in Washington, who are nothing more than corporate toadies. This is treason and we need to start treating them as traitors!" His old man, who once worked for Joe McCarthy, would be proud.

Boy Bobbie could have put it differently: "This is heresy. And we need to start treating them as heretics!" Which way to the Global Warming auto-da-fe?

The environmentalist canon may be described thusly: 1) Global Warming caused by carbon dioxide emissions is revealed truth. 2) If we don't repent, mankind will be eternally damned. 3) Doubters are monsters and mental defectives comparable to Holocaust-deniers and members of the Flat Earth Society. And 4) It's time to purge our SUV sins by abolishing the industrial revolution and turning to pig manure and solar power for energy. The former may in found in abundance among Global-Warming advocates in Congress and the media.

In a 2003 speech to San Francisco's Commonwealth Club, popular science novelist Michael Crichton described the religion of environmentalism, predecessor to the Church of Global Warming:

"Today, one of the most powerful religions in the Western World is environmentalism," Crichton disclosed. "Environmentalism seems to be the religion of choice for urban atheists. . There's an initial Eden, a paradise, a state of grace and unity with nature, there's a fall from grace into a state of pollution as a result of eating from the tree of knowledge, and as a result of our actions there is a judgment day coming for us all. We are all energy sinners, doomed to die, unless we seek salvation, which is now called sustainability."

Facts are irrelevant, Crichton explains, "because the tenets of environmentalism are all about belief. It's about whether you are going to be a sinner, or saved. Whether you are going to be one of the people on the side of salvation (the elect), or on the side of doom, whether you are going to be one of us, or one of them." Them being RFK Jr's "corporate toadies," "traitors" and other wretches yet to be saved by the amazing grace of biodegradable products.

Ditto, Global Warming. The CO2 witch doctors view a modest rise in the Earth's temperature with the alarm of Stone Age savages in Borneo encountering a 747. It's as if the surface temperature of the planet has been a constant for the past 5 billion years and suddenly things are heating up - due to greenhouse gases.

In reality, the Earth has regularly gone through hot and cold cycles. A thousand years ago, Viking settlements in Greenland were growing crops. (It really was green then.) When Hannibal crossed the Alps with elephants in 218 A.D., it wasn't nearly the feat many imagine. There was little ice and snow.

Reid Bryson, professor emeritus at the University of Wisconsin at Madison, is known as the father of scientific climatology. Bryson is a Global Warming iconoclast, and thus is shunned by many of his colleagues.

The professor does not doubt the Earth is warming, as we come out of what's known as the "Little Ice Age."

"However, there is no credible evidence that it is due to mankind and carbon dioxide," Bryson told a reporter for Madison.com (in an interview published on June 18). "We've been coming out of a Little Ice Age for 300 years. We have not been making very much carbon dioxide for 300 years. It's been warming up a long time."

Why then do so many scientists bring offerings to the altar of the Greenhouse God? Says Bryson: "There is a lot of money to be made in this. If you want to be an eminent scientist, you have to have a lot of grad students and a lot of grants. You can't get grants unless you say, 'oh global warming, yes, yes, carbon dioxide.'" Or, as Big Brother told Winston Smith: "Right thinking will be rewarded - wrong thinking punished."

"Speaking out against global warming is like being a heretic," Bryson significantly declares.

Dennis T. Avery, a senior fellow at the Hudson Institute, observes that much of the recent warming trend occurred prior to 1940 - "before the emission of much greenhouse gas from human activities."

On March 22, 2002, the Associated Press reported that a study "appearing in the March 21, 2002 issue of the journal Science analyzed ancient tree rings from 14 sites on three continents in the northern hemisphere and concluded that temperatures in an era known as the Medieval Warm Period some 800 to 1,000 years ago closely matched the warming trend of the 20th century." Is AP in the pocket of Exxon?

Avery sees a sunny (you should pardon the expression) future: "We're in a mild, erratic natural warming cycle (driven by a cyclical uptick in the sun's energy) that will gradually return us to the finest weather pattern in all recorded history - the Medieval Climate Optimum (circa 900-1300 A.D.). Winters will be milder, storms less powerful, and rainfall more abundant. The polar ice caps will not melt, and the sea level will continue to rise very slowly."

You mean the Eiffel Tower won't end up in the middle of a lagoon? Drat!

Scientists have documented nine moderate global warming cycles and nine somewhat harsher global cooling cycles in the last 12,000 years. Each cycle lasted roughly 1,500 years and - miracle of miracles -- coincided exactly with the known cycles of the sun's magnetic activity.

But this is an inconvenient truth for the Church of CO2 Emissions. We can't enact an international treaty to control the sun's magnetic activity. We can't legislate against it. Nor can it be used as a club to beat energy companies bloody or to institute the type of draconian controls over humanity for which the left has always lusted.

Global Warming a la Gore is merely the left's latest attempt to frog-march us into its brave new world.

With Marxism (another doomsday cult), the apocalyptic vision was a world where the rich kept getting richer and the poor sank deeper and deeper into drudgery, near-starvation and despair. The party elite was the priesthood sent to exorcise these political demons.

Since then, there has been a succession of leftist secular faiths - each calling on us to repent social sin, prophesizing doom and holding out the hope of salvation if only mankind can be coercively saved from itself.

In the '50s and '60s, it was the military/industrial complex. Then came overpopulation. Does anyone recall Paul Ehrlich's 1968 bestseller "The Population Bomb"? Dr. Ehrlich confidently forecast worldwide starvation and the exhaustion of natural resources sometime between 1970 and 1985, due to overpopulation. With birthrates falling worldwide, and well below replacement levels in most industrialized nations, Ehrlich joins the League of Distinguished Malthusians.

The pollution scare started with Rachel Carson's "Silent Spring" (1962). We were poisoning the Earth. Species were becoming extinct. We would shortly choke to death on our own garbage and toxic fumes. Part of the service for this particular faith was banning DDT - which led to millions of Third World deaths from disease-laden mosquitoes.

And now we have the Church of Global Warming, under the leadership of Pope Albert I and his college of cardinals (the Natural Resources Defense Council, Sierra Club and editorial board of The New York Times).

Its Office for the Propagation of the Faith works overtime, churning out books, movies (from the fictional "The Day After Tomorrow" to the fictional "An Inconvenient Truth"), textbooks, concerts, congressional hearings, media pleading and inquisitions.

There are even children's versions of the Ozone Bible. "Arctic Tale" (opening in theaters August 17) is a "documentary" that follows the adventures of Mama Polar Bear and Mother Walrus and their cubs, as they try to deal with catastrophic changes in their environment due to - what else? - Global Warming.

Not to worry, soon they'll be cavorting among the ice floes of Manhattan.

As science, Global Warming ranks right up there with the Piltdown Man and the gay-gene theory.

All of the left's quasi-religions seek to take us to the same final destination - a state of rigid control, central planning, rationing, pre-industrial living standards and flagellation to purge us of our sins.

The end of the line can be vaguely discerned. In the United Kingdom, a group of Eco-Doom fanatics, called The Optimum Population Trust, recently got hysterical over a slight blip in the British birthrate (from 1.8 children per woman in 2005 to 1.87 in 2006 - still well below the replacement level of 2.11).

In its report, the Trust noted that a child born in Britain today will have a lifetime environmental impact (carbon-dioxide output) equal to the energy consumed on 620 round-trip, trans-Atlantic flights.

Brits have to limit childbearing, the Optimum Population Trust insists. If they won't do so voluntarily, the government should adopt coercive measures - which in China has meant forced abortions and sterilizations, and infanticide.

Be afraid. Be very afraid.

How about this for a colorful coffee-table book "The World Tomorrow - Scenarios of Economic and Social Catastrophe Courtesy of the Church of Global Warming"?

Don Feder is a former Boston Herald writer who is now a political/communications consultant. He also maintains his own website, DonFeder.com.

Debra Saunders: Do Warming Advocates Care About Results?


July 31, 2007

San Fransisco Chronicle

If you really believe that the planet is at the tipping point on global warming and the consequences will be fatal for people around the world, especially the poor, then all industrialized nations need to curb their greenhouse gas emissions. If the United States must sacrifice, so must China, which is fast emerging as the largest producer of industrial greenhouse gases on Earth.

Yet U.N. Secretary Ban ki-Moon, in a breakfast meeting with the San Francisco Chronicle editorial board Friday, suggested that industrialized nations -- read the United States -- have a "historical responsibility" to cut emissions, which are "almost to the saturation point," while China and India, two superpowers that were not bound to reduce emissions as part of the 1997 Kyoto global warming pact, "have their own positions."

As for the Democratic Congress, Ban said: "They have already begun moving. It's only the (Bush) administration" that has not. And, while he said he is not a scientist or economist: "The science is very clear. The economics is very clear."

I understand the social justice argument. America has produced more industrial greenhouse gases than any other nation, hence Americans should have to cut back more than other countries. But who knew in 1910 that global warming would be an issue?

"The few who did know about it thought it was a good thing," noted the Cato Institute's Pat Michaels. "And when global surface temperature declined from 1945 through the mid-1970s, the feeling was one of absolute alarm. The world was going to have a food crisis. The shipping lanes in the North Atlantic were cluttered with ice."

Remember global cooling? That's what the -- all bow -- scientists warned about 30 years ago. Now, bygone Americans are to blame for not foreseeing science's current end-of-the-world scenario, global warming.

Unlike Ban, I know many scientists who don't think the science is conclusive as to whether global warming is caused by man. But if the tipping point is near, you'd think Ban would talk as tough on China as he does with George W. Bush. According to the Netherlands Environmental Assessment Agency, China's coal-fired plants are increasing their emissions annually by double the total emissions growth of all the world's industrialized economies combined. China's about to be Hertz, and Ban's focused on Avis.

"Given the emissions growth rate of China, if the United States drops its emissions 25 percent over the next 20 years, it simply won't be noticed," Cato's Michaels noted. "Everyone who's looked at this knows that." Everyone, perhaps except the U.N. secretary-general.

Greenhouse gases will have the same effect, whether they emanate from San Francisco or Shanghai. But politics, not science, keeps the focus on Bush, not Beijing.

You see, Bush had the audacity to refuse to support Kyoto. If he had been all lip service, like President Clinton -- if Bush had signed the treaty but not asked the Senate to ratify it, while U.S. greenhouse gas emissions rose to 14 percent higher than 1990 levels when he left office -- then the vaunted international community would approve.

Science is supposed to be about results, but global warming is about belief. President Clinton is good because he said he believed. If you say you believe, you don't have to deliver.

If global warming is facing the tipping point, then the United Nations should lean on China. Believers shouldn't put their politics -- United States a must, China a maybe -- before the planet.

If undeveloped countries will pay the biggest price for global warming, as Ban said, then that's more reason to make them curb their emissions -- not less.

If the economics are clear, as Ban said, he should not have to pressure countries and businesses, execs would be making the right changes without government pressure. And Ban would not have to ask the media for help, as he did Friday.

If results matter, Ban ought to be hectoring Democrats in Congress, who are about as likely as Bush to pass a carbon tax. But he's not.

And if results really were paramount, why aren't global warming advocates talking about the sacrifices necessary to meet their goal of 50 percent to 90 percent fewer emissions? Instead, they talk as if Americans can change their light bulbs, or drive a hybrid, not an SUV -- and that will do the trick.

It's as if they don't care about results, they only care if you believe.

dsaunders@sfchronicle.com

Monday, July 30, 2007

Debra J. Saunders: John Doe Versus Flying Imams

Monday, July 30, 2007


Imagine you're waiting to board a plane, and you see fellow travelers acting strangely and muttering words that you don't understand. Maybe they're Muslim, maybe they're not. You're afraid that they are up to no good. What do you do?

Nothing. If you report the behavior, you might get sued. Or so Americans had reason to believe after House Democratic leaders omitted from a homeland security bill a measure by Rep. Peter King, R-N.Y. -- that passed by a 304-to-121 vote in a different bill -- to grant immunity from civil liability to people who report potential threats to or acts of terrorism against transportation systems or passengers.



From left are, Imam Omar Shahin; Ibrahim Ramey, Director of Civil and Human Rights with the Muslim American Society; Rev. Walter E. Fauntroy, with the National Black Leadership Roundtable; Mahdi Bray, Director of the Muslim American Society; and Rabbi Arthur Waskow, of the Shalom Center in Philadelphia walk at Washington's Ronald Reagan National Airport, Monday, Nov. 27, 2006. Imams, ministers and a rabbi staged a "pray-in" demonstration at the airport and demanded an apology from US Airways for barring six Muslims from a Minneapolis to Phoenix flight last week.(AP Photo/Lawrence Jackson)

King wrote the measure because of a November 2006 incident at the Minneapolis-St. Paul airport -- known as the "flying imam" story. Passengers and crewmembers on a flight bound for Phoenix were concerned after they saw imams praying by the gate, moving around the plane speaking Arabic after boarding and requesting seat-belt extensions that observers feared could be used as weapons. U.S. Airways kicked the six imams off the plane.

In March, the imams filed a lawsuit against U.S. Airways and the airport. The lawsuit also targeted unnamed "John Doe" passengers who "may have made false reports against plaintiffs solely with the intent to discriminate against them on the basis of their race, religion, ethnicity and national origin." That's ridiculous. Crew and passengers were concerned about the imams because of their reported behavior.

King wrote the immunity amendment to prevent the chilling effect that a lawsuit might have on passengers who see suspicious behavior, but fear losing their homes -- or being stuck with huge legal bills -- if they report it. After all, citizen involvement could be key in preventing another 9-11 attack.

Remember the passengers who came to the aid of an American Airlines flight attendant who asked for help in subduing Richard Reid, who had been trying to ignite his explosive-laden sneakers? At the time, FBI Special Agent Charles Prouty told reporters: "The willingness of the flight attendants and passengers to get involved with this incident helped avert a potentially dangerous situation. This points to the importance of every citizen staying involved and alert to ensure public safety."

So why did the House leadership keep the King amendment out? Bay Area Democrats -- with the exception of Reps. Tom Lantos and Jerry McNerney -- were among the 121 Democrats who voted against the measure; 105 House Dems, and 199 Repubs, voted for it. When the Senate passed a companion measure by a 57-to-39 vote, it lacked the 60 votes to make it to the floor. But the deal set the stage for the Senate to approve the measure on Thursday.

Brendan Daly, spokesman for Speaker Nancy Pelosi, said that leaders feared individuals reporting other passengers based on racial stereotypes, but they worked out a compromise. But it is not clear how the King amendment changed.

It may well be that Democratic leaders realized that they should heed the likes of New York Democratic Sens. Hillary Clinton and Chuck Schumer, who voted for the Senate bill, rather than side with the likes of the Council on American-Islamic Relations, which supported the imams' suit to help the imams, a spokesman told me in April, "clear their names."

Sorry, but suing "John Does" won't clear the imams' names. Instead, the suit bolsters the suspicion that the imams were being deliberately provocative in the hope that airline staff would act -- so that the imams could proclaim themselves victims of discrimination.

Let me be clear. I do not believe that airlines should discriminate against Muslims, the vast majority of whom are good, law-abiding citizens.

Nor do I believe it is wise for security to profile Muslim men. That makes it too easy for potential terrorists to succeed by breaking with the profile. But it also is unwise to pass laws that deter citizens from reporting suspicious behavior by individuals who belong to groups more likely to support terrorism.

After Reid's attempted shoe bombing, Indiana humanities and law professor Fedwa Malti-Douglas wrote in The New York Times that although she had been the target of ethnic profiling, "I believe this scrutiny is a defensible tactic for picking out potential problem passengers." After all, screening procedures "also protect me from terrorism."

Gwynn, Ripken Strived to be Role Models

By Jerry Crasnick

ESPN.com(Archive)
Updated: July 29, 2007

COOPERSTOWN, N.Y. -- Cal Ripken Jr.'s blue eyes gazed out the window as the bus neared the Hall of Fame induction ceremony -- where the biggest speech of his life loomed before him -- and it suddenly hit home that he would be sharing his day with more than just friends and relatives.

The veterans love to make the newcomers squirm, so the wisecracks became more pronounced with each turn of the wheels. "Look, the crowd is all the way back on the hill," said one established Hall of Famer. "I've never seen this many people here."

But this time it was no joke. An estimated crowd of 75,000 people -- or 25,000 more than the previous record high for the Nolan Ryan-George Brett-Robin Yount induction ceremony in 1999 -- surged onto the grounds at the Clark Sports Center to pay tribute to Ripken and Tony Gwynn on Sunday.

The fans brought lawn chairs and homemade signs, dressed in Baltimore Orioles and San Diego Padres T-shirts, and occupied every square inch of available real estate. Upstate New York hasn't been this hopping since the mass pilgrimage to Max Yasgur's farm in 1969, when it was all about love, Janis Joplin and dropping acid, rather than baseball.

"I thought the guys on the bus were just messing with us to make us nervous," Ripken said. "But I kept looking at it, and I was amazed and overwhelmed. There was a sea of orange."

Cooperstown is about a six-hour drive from Baltimore, where Ripken played for 21 seasons and earned the everlasting respect of Orioles fans for his work ethic. And it's a cross-country flight from San Diego, where Gwynn held Padres fans in his spell for two decades.

But what's a little gas money or the price of a plane ticket between friends?

Ripken never missed a day of work from May 30, 1982, through Sept. 19, 1998, so the least his admirers could do was pay through the nose for hotel rooms. As for Gwynn, he hit .300 for 19 consecutive years, and that kind of reliability warrants an emotional investment in return. One Padres fan in the crowd waved a sign with the inscription: "3000 Miles 4-1 Hero."

As Bob Feller pointed out earlier this weekend, "There are three kinds of Hall of Famers -- borderline, ordinary and major Hall of Famers. These guys both belong in the major category."

Still, the Ripken-Gwynn lovefest was as much about turning back the clock as gushing over statistics. This was a day to stow references to the Mitchell investigation, Curt Schilling's distaste for Barry Bonds and Jose Canseco's furtive references to Alex Rodriguez's off-field training habits. It was time to return to a day when players spent their entire careers with one franchise and didn't shy away from the label of "role model."

Gwynn, an inveterate 9-to-5er, agreed with a reporter who wondered if the record turnout might have been a statement on how baseball fans view the game today and want their icons to behave.

"Cal and I played for one team in one city, and I think fans felt comfortable with us because they could trust us," Gwynn said. "They could trust how we played the game and conducted ourselves -- especially in this era of negativity. Hopefully they feel like we did it the right way."

Gwynn was a bundle of nerves from the outset, watching his daughter, Anisha, sing the Canadian and American national anthems. He maintained his composure in part through the guidance of recent inductee Gary Carter, who advised him to ignore the countless faces before him and just stare at the trees in the distance.

The 27-minute speech was typical Gwynn -- chatty, conversational, and spraying comments to all fields. Gwynn spoke of Ted Williams' influence on him as a hitter and reflected on his boyhood days of swinging at figs and rolled-up socks in the backyard with his brothers Charles and Chris.
Gwynn drew his biggest round of applause when he talked about his sense of duty and meticulous approach to the game.

"I'm a big believer that when you sign your name on a dotted line, there's more than just playing the game of baseball," Gwynn said. "There's a responsibility when you put on that uniform to the people who pay to go watch you play."

Ripken, who crafted his speech with the help of his long-time agent, Ron Shapiro, managed to thank his mother and late father without breaking down in tears, but had to pause and collect his emotions when expressing his love for his two children, Ryan and Rachel, and his wife, Kelly.

Ripken displayed a touch of legerdemain that would have made Ozzie Smith and Omar Vizquel proud. At one point, he pulled a white rose from the pocket of his suit coat, looked into the crowd and said, "Ryan, I might need a little help transporting this."

Presto -- Ryan Ripken pulled a white rose from his coat pocket and handed it to his mom beside him. Penn and Teller couldn't have done it better.

"I didn't think I could say the words," Ripken said later. "It was very similar to when I proposed to my wife. I made a sign of Christmas lights and pulled a switch and it said, 'Will you marry me?' I started thinking, 'How can I create a message that has a lot of meaning?' "

Ripken delivered another, equally powerful message on the power of celebrity. He recalled an incident early in his career when he threw his helmet after a strikeout. Teammate Ken Singleton made him watch the video replay and asked him, "How does that look?" From that point forward, Ripken was a walking tutorial on comportment for Little Leaguers throughout the state of Maryland.

"As the years passed, it became clear to me that kids see it all," Ripken said. "Whether we like it or not, as big leaguers, we are role models. The only question is, will we be positive or will it be negative."

As single-franchise, 3,000-hit fixtures, Ripken and Gwynn have been portrayed as dinosaurs, but they'll have company in Cooperstown in the years to come.

It won't be long before Houston's Jeff Bagwell and Craig Biggio appear on the ballot. Then Chipper Jones, Derek Jeter, Mariano Rivera, Albert Pujols and others could carry on the tradition. But we might never see two men who played so well for so long and meant so much to the fiber of a community sharing the same stage.

Now that the speeches are over, the new inductees can bask in the glow of their new fraternity while escaping the burdens of membership. In their post-induction press conference, Gwynn and Ripken politely declined to comment on Barry Bonds' controversial run at Hank Aaron's 755. They've only been asked about it a thousand and one times since January.

Gwynn, who estimates that he sweated his way through "eight or nine towels" in the midsummer heat, is already looking forward to returning to Cooperstown in July 2008. He plans to stake out a rocking chair on the back porch of the Otesaga Hotel and enjoy the view.

"Next year, I'm going to sit on that bench right out by the lake with a cigar and pretend like I'm somebody," Gwynn said.

Hall of Famers don't have to pretend.

Jerry Crasnick covers baseball for ESPN.com. His book "License To Deal" was published by Rodale. Click here to order a copy. Jerry can be reached via e-mail.

'The Padre way' to immortality



Tony Gwynn takes his place among baseball's elite
By Chris Jenkins
SAN DIEGO UNION-TRIBUNE

July 30, 2007

COOPERSTOWN, N.Y. – If it were simply a baseball game, even the biggest baseball game of his life, he could have played it cool in the hottest heat. Throw him a change, a change of any kind, and he could handle it with nary a flinch.

Precisely because he was so adept as a hitter, Tony Gwynn yesterday was sitting in a bus full of baseball legends as it approached the Clark Sports Center, site of the Hall of Fame induction ceremony for him and Cal Ripken Jr.

Gwynn had barely absorbed the stunning view of 75,000 people assembled in the duo's honor – by far the largest crowd ever for an induction ceremony – when he learned that the lineup had just been changed because of threatening weather.

Instead of going third in the order, his customary and assigned spot, Gwynn was up first yesterday. Leadoff. With only minutes to go.

Admittedly, he freaked.

“I was scared to death,” Gwynn said. “Like Cal, I was the kind of player who liked to be prepared. But when things change, man, now you're scrambling.”

As he said throughout the lead-up to this first enshrinement of a player who spent his entire career with the Padres, Gwynn wasn't up there alone. Indeed, the thousands of fans who made the odyssey from San Diego nudged and cajoled him through his speech of nearly 28 minutes, punctuating his career recollections and words of gratitude with their applause and chants of “To-ny! To-ny! To-ny!”

“I played for one organization, the San Diego Padres, and when this day started out today, I thought I was going to go third,” Gwynn told the crowd, which was informed that the induction of Gwynn and Ripken would be moved up as defense against thunderstorms that were forecast but never arrived. “I thought I was going to get to hear what other people said about their teams and their towns and their cities. I only know one way – that's the Padre way.

“I wore brown. I wore the brown and gold. I wore the blue and orange. I didn't get a chance to wear the (current) 'sand' and whatever color blue you want to call that, but I'm proud as heck to be a San Diego Padre. I played for one team. I played in one town.”

So did Ripken, whose induction immediately followed Gwynn's. He spent his 21 years with the Baltimore Orioles and seemed to have brought most of Maryland with him to the tiny village of Cooperstown, which had never had a crowd of more than 50,000 for an induction ceremony. Baltimore is a great baseball city, and Ripken went from local star to national hero as the game's true definition of the “everyday player.”



Gwynn came from a different sort of place, though, a place where San Diego too long was known for its wretched baseball teams. When that began to change in the early 1980s, Gwynn was a big part of the reason, playing in two World Series and winning three division championships in his 20 years. He also won eight National League batting titles and was chosen to 15 All-Star Games, and last week a statue of him was unveiled at Petco Park that identified him as “Mr. Padre.”

As Gwynn and Ripken stood behind the lectern, they stared out over a scene that has been likened to a sporting form of Woodstock, with fans filling a lawn between the stage and the trees on a hillside at least 500 yards away. Behind them sat 53 Hall of Famers. Four of those – Dave Winfield, Ozzie Smith, Gaylord Perry and Rollie Fingers – played for the Padres during their careers.

One of the Hall of Fame's rituals is that new inductees get treated like rookies, and Gwynn had been sensing he was in store for some sort of prank. So when others kept telling him that he and Ripken had drawn an unprecedented crowd – one larger than any that either inductee had ever played for – Gwynn “thought they were messing with me.” Then the bus turned the corner and he saw the sea of humanity.

Not what he needed to see. His son, Anthony, said his dad was pretty shaky at the hotel yesterday morning.

“He's a lot different,” said Anthony, a Poway High School and San Diego State University product who is now an outfielder with the Milwaukee Brewers organization. “Normally, he holds himself together, stays strong. I've seen what he was like at World Series games and the All-Star Game, always keeping calm, but I've never seen him this nervous.”

Gwynn thought he had a built-in mechanism to stay calm. That was his daughter, Anisha, a recording artist who sang the national anthems of Canada and the United States for yesterday's ceremonies.

“We were both pacing this morning,” said Tony Gwynn. “I was trying to get her to calm down and she was trying to get me to calm down.”

Upon arrival, it was announced that Gwynn and Ripken would go ahead of the baseball writer (Rick Hummel of the St. Louis Post-Dispatch) and broadcaster (Denny Matthews of Kansas City), whose award ceremonies originally were scheduled to open the program.

Waving his arms wildly, Gwynn laughed and said, “My daughter's going, 'Oh man, you've gotta go first!' ”

As would Ripken, Gwynn maintained an even keel until he began to discuss his family. His mother, Vendella, had made the trip to Cooperstown, but has been “under the weather” the past couple of days and could not attend the ceremony. As did Ripken, Gwynn sped through references to his deceased father. Both inductees had said that that's when they expected to have their most difficulty.

Their most touching sentiments were saved for their wives, Alicia Gwynn and Kelly Ripken. Otherwise, Gwynn mostly traced his playing days from high school in Long Beach to college at San Diego State – where he is the head coach of the Aztecs baseball team – to his professional career, from his first stop in the minors in Walla Walla, Wash., to 3,000 hits.

“In many ways, I was jealous,” Ripken said. “Tony was able to go up there and keep track of what he wanted to say and keep his emotions under control. It looked like he was fidgety at the start, but once he got up there, it's like he was having a conversation with everyone else. ... I thought he was home, comfortable, and did a nice job.”

Nothing more than All-Star Game acquaintances in January when both were overwhelmingly elected to the Hall of Fame, Gwynn and Ripken have become a sort of tag team, cast together as inductees for television appearances and news conferences. The boom in interest in yesterday's event was deemed a direct reflection of two veterans with impeccable references and images, not to mention abilities with both bat and glove.

“With our teams, in our cities, people trusted us,” Gwynn said. “They trusted how we played the game and how we conducted ourselves. They trusted us to play the game right and take care of business the right way. They can look back on our careers and see that we did things the right way. There's no question about that.

“There's no way I'm a 97.6 percent (the vote in support of his induction) guy. I don't care what people say. That vote was for what kind of person I am.”

The vote set Gwynn up for a wondrous but stress-filled and demand-packed half year. The sigh of relief he breathed yesterday, people probably heard all the way to San Diego.

“I'm so glad we don't have to do this again,” Gwynn said. “When I come back next year, I'm gonna sit out by the lake (Otsego) with a cigar and let somebody else go through it.”



Chris Jenkins: (619) 293-1267; chris.jenkins@uniontrib.com

Thomas Boswell: By Numbers Alone, Character Counts

The Washington Post
Monday, July 30, 2007; E01

COOPERSTOWN, N.Y.

Jim Palmer, Cal Ripken Jr., Earl Weaver, Brooks Robinson, Frank Robinson and Eddie Murray.


As the sun set over the Adirondacks on Saturday evening, you could get a clear radio signal for almost every major league game east of the Mississippi on I-88 to the Hall of Fame. In Baltimore, Nick Markakis slapped a single to left off Roger Clemens. In New York, the Nats began a rally to beat the Mets. The Phillies, Pirates and Red Sox whispered as you sped along the ridges. However, as the town where Cal Ripken and Tony Gwynn were inducted into the Hall on Sunday came into view, one broadcast was absent. Nowhere on the dial could you find the Giants, or any mention of Barry Bonds.

Here, baseball reaches out and embraces you, welcomes you back, restores your faith, not just in games but in the people who play or love them. You gaze into the game's history and realize, since human nature changes as slowly as mountain-range rock, that our future, no matter what we fear, will resemble nothing so much as our past. A "Shoeless" Joe Jackson, Pete Rose or Bonds may disappoint or gall us, make us plead, "Say it ain't so," but we still have our choice of models, even heroes -- Christy Mathewson, Lou Gehrig, Hank Aaron or, on this day, Gwynn and Ripken. Records are broken. Character remains.

On Sunday as a bus full of Hall of Famers approached the vast fields and hillsides where the induction ceremony would be held, the greats began gasping like children. "They're saying: 'Oh, my goodness, look at all the people. I've never seen them way up on those hills,' " Gwynn said. "Cal and I thought they were messing with us, making us nervous before our speeches."

But they weren't. The 53 Hall of Famers, the largest such group ever assembled, were simply marveling, like everyone else, at the sight of 75,000 fans, jammed, sprawled and congregated as far as the eye could see. And why had they come? Just to hear a couple of dignified, honest ballplayers give their modest remarks.

To give a sense of the jaw-dropping scope of the scene, neither Ripken nor Gwynn, ever in his career, had played a game before so many fans, since no major league ballpark holds so many. For comparison, when Brooks Robinson was inducted here in '83, a crowd of 15,000 set what was then a record. On this Sunday, however, a throng worthy of any World Series had trekked, as a pilgrimage and testimony to their values, to one of America's more inaccessible villages.

"Nine hours by car from Annandale with one rest stop," said John Falardeau, who came with wife, Margaret, and daughters Lydia and Emma, ages 4 and 2. "We had dual DVD players in the back seat -- cost $140. By the time we finally got here, I'd have given Target another $300 just to thank them."

This sea of fans, with signs such as "My Son is Named Cal Because of You," came from distances and in numbers never before seen. Few, if any, overlooked the confluence of this induction with Bonds's failed attempt to steal the sport's spotlight on such a symbolic day. The Giants outfielder could have rested Sunday -- standard practice for a 43-year-old in a day game after a night game. Instead, he eloquently chose to play and swing for No. 755.

None of the men whose faces grace the plaques here missed the meaning. On Saturday, at a reception for Hall of Famers, word passed through the crowd, "0 for 1" or "0 for 3." Everyone knew the subject. Everyone said, "Good."

In recent days, as this weekend became a closely watched juxtaposition of steroid scandal and Hall celebration, estimates of the eventual crowd continued to rise. On Saturday, reports arrived here that an additional 250 buses had been added to bring all the fans. Coincidence? After all, baseball is hot, setting a one-day attendance record on Saturday: 717,000. Or referendum?

After their acceptance speeches, Ripken and Gwynn were asked, "Do you think so many people showed up because they wanted to make a statement about how they want the game to be played?"

"I don't think there is any doubt of it," said Gwynn, not mentioning Bonds by name. "The fans felt they could trust us. They could trust how we played the game, especially in this era, that we did it the right way.

"And I think the writers [who vote] felt that, too. There's no way I'm a 97.6 [percent] guy," said the eight-time batting champ, referring to his vote total, almost as high as Ripken's. On the same ballot, Mark McGwire got only 23.5 percent of the vote, perhaps the most resounding rejection in Hall history. This crowd, Gwynn said, was "about the type of people we were."

Tony was right. But so was Ripken who, refusing to concede Bonds any part of the stage, said that this day, this huge revival on a hillside, was simply about the sport itself -- and its health, in spite of all that is inflicted on it.

"This was about the fans love of baseball, from generation to generation. The game continues long after any of us put away our glove," Ripken said. "This demonstrates that baseball is alive, popular and good."

That last word -- "good" -- may have slipped out courtesy of Dr. Freud. Few athletes have, grudgingly at first, then eventually with a whole heart, so completely embraced the job of understated hero as a career mission. Throughout his acceptance speech, Ripken addressed this task of combining personal behavior with athletic performance.

"I didn't understand when I was younger," Ripken said. Once, he threw a helmet and teammate Ken Singleton showed him a tape of it and asked, "How does that look?" Another night, Ripken learned that a family had saved money to come to a game in which he had been ejected in the first inning "and their little boy cried the whole game." Eventually, he realized that he was a role model whether he liked it or not. "Kids see it all," he said. "Not just the big things. Everything." After that "baseball became a platform," he said.

"Games were and are important," Ripken said, "but people and how you impact on them are most important.

The chains of habit, it has been famously said, are too light to be felt until they are too strong to be broken. Perhaps that insight can be taken a step further. In many ways, our character is little more than a lifetime's collection of habits -- some consciously chosen, too many fallen into unawares.

Some people, by the guidance of family or who knows what, make crucial choices that lead them to the habits, to the relationships with others -- to the inspiring character -- that we find in Ripken and Gwynn. On days like this, we not only praise them for their athletic records. A Bonds can do as much. By the tens of thousands, we trek to a rural village for a reason we can hardly express. In a game, we have discovered people who can help us decide which chains of habit will define us.

Sunday, July 29, 2007

An Appreciation: The Iron Horse and Ripken



Steve Ruark/Associated Press
The Hall of Famer Cal Ripken


By RAY ROBINSON
The New York Times
Published: July 29, 2007

In 1989, when I was writing a biography of Lou Gehrig, Cal Ripken was in his ninth year with the Baltimore Orioles and about halfway through his challenge to Gehrig’s seemingly indestructible record of playing in 2,130 consecutive games. At the time, few regarded Ripken, the 6-foot-4, 220-pound Orioles shortstop, or anyone else, as the successor to the Iron Horse.

By September 1995, however, Ripken was on the verge of supplanting Gehrig as the most durable major league ballplayer. Thousands of fans, many in Baltimore, were rooting for Ripken to replace Gehrig.

But there were also many like me, who felt an extraordinary sadness that the record was about to be eclipsed. Others suggested that the decent thing to do was to tie Gehrig’s record, then step down the next day, while declaring that he would be pleased to share the mark.

I met Gehrig when I was a child and had always admired him as an athlete and as a human being. I felt it was palpably wrong for Ripken to deprive Gehrig of his greatest legacy to the game. But then I began to focus on Ripken, who shared many of Gehrig’s values, and I concluded that that thinking was wrong, and unfair to Ripken. When I spoke to Ripken recently, he said that to have taken a day off at that crucial moment, would have been “to dishonor baseball.”



Lou Gehrig

Ripken never set out to make Gehrig his paradigm. “Yes, I respected him,” Ripken said in his typically measured way. “But I was never obsessed with him or his streak.”

Ripken left the playing field in 2001, well after he had carved out his 2,632 straight games, and was elected to the National Baseball Hall of Fame in his first year on the ballot, receiving 537 votes out of 545 votes cast. He is to be inducted into the Hall today with Tony Gwynn.

What had always been clear about Ripken was that, like Gehrig, he had never been a player with a runaway ego. He had also never projected the persona of a pampered would-be role model, like so many of his contemporaries.

Since retiring as a player, Ripken, who turns 47 in August, has become a prime example of someone seeking self-improvement. He has an instinct for hard work and other charitable endeavors.

“My personal philosophy is to get a feeling of fulfillment through my work,” he said. “I have a desire to create something. I guess that’s why I’ve long been fascinated by two books, ‘The Fountainhead’ and ‘Atlas Shrugged.’ The leading figure in ‘The Fountainhead,’ an architect named Howard Roark, is someone I’ve thought about a good deal.”

Those books were the subject of considerable controversy when they were published more than a half-century ago. Their author, a Russian émigré named Ayn Rand, was an advocate of objectivism, which embraced a strong belief in competitiveness and self-expression.

“I’m a hands-on person in business,” Ripken said. “I try to choose the right people for the right job. Currently, about 100 people work for me. But once I set up an infrastructure I don’t micromanage things.”

Among Ripken’s projects is the Cal Ripken Sr. Foundation, started in 2001 and named after his father, who died of cancer in 1999 after years as a manager in the minor leagues and with the Orioles.

“My dad never made much money in the minors, but he was a great role model and a very creative man around the house,” Ripken said.

The mission of the foundation is to “teach life lessons to disadvantaged youth through baseball.” The foundation estimates that it has worked with more than 500,000 children in 40 states.

The Ripken Learning Center, a program of Baltimore Reads, was inaugurated in 1998 through contributions from the Ripken family. But Ripken himself is never far away from his baseball roots.

His company, Ripken Baseball, owns and operates two Class A franchises — the Aberdeen IronBirds, an Orioles affiliate in Maryland, and the Augusta GreenJackets, a Giants affiliate in Georgia. Ripken had a prominent hand in the selection of top personnel for these clubs, but, he said, “I don’t get involved in what goes on the field.”

Almost a million children play in the Cal Ripken Baseball operation, which was once known as the Babe Ruth division.

“I want these kids, whatever their background, to have fun,” he said.

Ripken said he had no desire to be the commissioner of Major League Baseball.

“However, with the right timing, I’d like to own a major league team someday,” he added.

It seems clear that the controversies about Pete Rose and Barry Bonds have influenced Ripken’s feelings about the job of commissioner.

“I know both of these men,” he said of Rose and Bonds, “but I think it’s wrong for people to come to conclusions about them before all the evidence is gathered.”

Ripken took a strong stand on another matter. He chose not to appear on Don Imus’s radio program this spring after Imus’s remarks about the Rutgers women’s basketball team. Imus had invited Ripken to talk about his new business book, “Get in the Game.”

“I didn’t want anyone to misconstrue my feelings,” Ripken said. “It would have made me very uncomfortable talking to Imus.”

Like many professional athletes, Ripken has at times been superstitious.

“Once when I got five hits in a game, I remembered that I had eaten fish and chips that day,” he said with a laugh. “So the next day, I ate fish and chips again. But I didn’t repeat the five-hit performance.”

Before Ripken broke the consecutive-games record, I sent him a copy of my biography of Gehrig. I had wanted him to read it, then autograph it. But he waited until his pursuit ended.

“It’s safe to finally read,” he scrawled in the front of my book.

I cherish the autograph — and understand his superstition.

Ray Robinson is the author of “Iron Horse: Lou Gehrig in His Time.”

Game for Fame

Even in early days, Ripken and Gwynn seemed bound for Cooperstown

By BILL MADDEN
NEW YORK DAILY NEWS SPORTS WRITER

Sunday, July 29th 2007, 4:00 AM




Tony Gwynn and Cal Ripken (below) talk to the media yesterday.

COOPERSTOWN - When it comes to the great ones, there are almost always early signs. Cal Ripken and Tony Gwynn, who will be inducted into the Hall of Fame today, are no exceptions.

Longtime Baltimore Orioles manager Earl Weaver, a Hall of Famer himself, saw enough of Ripken fielding ground balls from his dad, Cal Sr., an Oriole coach, all those years leading up to his arrival in Baltimore at the tail end of 1981 to convince him he could handle the shortstop job and lead the infield as a rookie the following season.

At the same time, Jack McKeon, a hardened baseball man and astute judge of talent, needed only one look at Gwynn's fluid swing in an exhibition game between Gwynn's San Diego State Aztecs and the Padres in 1981 to convince him San Diego needed to re-evaluate its draft priorities that spring.

When Cal Ripken reported to the Orioles' spring training camp in 1982 he was a gangly 6-4 whose combined power numbers (48 homers, 153 RBI) the previous two minor league seasons had prompted a decision by the team's scouts and front office to move him from shortstop to third base. But as Weaver tells it, he believed the others were being shortsighted, not to mention unfair to Ripken.

"In our meetings the previous fall, the discussion was to trade our third baseman, Doug DeCinces, and move Cal over there. In their minds, he was too big for shortstop and his power would be better suited at third," Weaver was saying this past week. "But I couldn't understand that logic. Growing up in the Cardinals' system, I'd seen Marty Marion, who was 6-2, and maybe the best defensive shortstop ever. I just felt Cal could give you the same offense at short and, at the same time, he knew the game inside-out. Growing up around our club with his dad, he knew my system, my cut-offs and relays. (Cal Sr.) had been teaching that in the minors and Cal was always listening."

But as Weaver related, he was overruled in that meeting and, a month later, the Orioles traded DeCinces to the California Angels for a relief pitcher, Don Aase, with the understanding that Ripken would move to third and Bobby Bonner, another top prospect, would assume the shortstop job.

"Well, the season started and we got off slowly and neither Cal or Bonner were hitting," Weaver says. "Plus, my only veteran in the infield, (second baseman Rich) Dauer, wasn't really a take-charge guy. So I decided I was gonna satisfy my own feelings and satisfy myself that Cal couldn't be a shortstop. I knew he could take over and direct traffic so I made the move, benching Bonner and using Floyd Rayford at third base, and Cal began hitting. He wound up with 28 home runs and won the Rookie of the Year and the rest is history."

Ripken went on to hit 345 homers at shortstop, the most in history, and remained there for 14 seasons before finally moving over to third in 1997 while continuing on with his record 2,632 consecutive games played streak. In 1990, he made only three errors to achieve the highest one-season fielding pct. (.996) of any shortstop in history.

"If you ask me, Cal's defensive skills have not been properly recognized," Weaver says. "That year he made only three errors while leading the league in putouts and assists, to me, that's phenomenal. Looking back at those meetings in '81, I remember saying: 'If you take this kid off shortstop, you're taking his chance for the Hall of Fame away from him.' Turned out, Cal would have made it at any position."

In the spring of 1981, McKeon, then general manager of the San Diego Padres, was preparing for the annual June draft. In numerous meetings with his scouts it had been decided the Padres would take an outfielder, either Joe Carter of Wichita State or Kevin McReynolds from Arkansas, with their first-round pick. A few weeks before the draft, however, McKeon was watching an exhibition game between the Padres and the local college, San Diego State, when another outfielder caught his eye.

"I'd probably seen San Diego State 18-20 times and never saw Tony," McKeon says. "That's because he was playing basketball and didn't join the baseball team 'til late. (Shortstop) Bobby Meacham was the star of their team and a projected No. 1 pick by a lot of teams, not us because we had Ozzie Smith at the time.

"Anyway, I'm watching this game and here comes Tony who triples off Steve Mura his first time up, then doubles off (Juan) Eichelberger his next time up and both times runs the bases like he can see someone behind him. I turn to the (S.D.) athletic director sitting next to me and say: 'Who's this?' He says: 'That's Tony Gwynn. He plays basketball, too.' I told him: 'That may be, but he's the best player you got on this team.'"

McKeon gambled that few scouts had seen enough of Gwynn to make him a high pick in the draft. He went ahead and took McReynolds with his first-round pick (the sixth pick in the draft), after the Cubs had taken Carter four picks earlier. And with a compensation first-round pick at No. 26, McKeon took Miami (Fla.) catcher Frank Castro. Then, with his second-round pick, he took pitcher Bill Long out of Miami of Ohio. It was not until the third round and the 58th pick overall, that the Padres selected Gwynn.

"I had wanted to take him sooner," McKeon says, "but our scouts really liked Billy Long and since I hadn't seen Long, I had to go with them. Anyway, we took Gwynn and sent him to Walla Walla (Wash.) in the Rookie League where he hit .331 in his first 40 games and we moved him all the way up to Double-A where he hit .462 in his last 23 games. The next spring, we brought him to the big league camp and (Padres manager) Dick Williams wanted to keep him, but I felt he still needed a little more seasoning to work on the other parts of his game."

In McKeon's judgment, Gwynn, despite his natural hitting skills, is the consummate self-made player. An average outfielder with a below-average arm, he worked hours on his throwing with Padres minor league instructor Clyde McCullough and, within two years, was a Gold Glover. At the same time, he was determined to be a more proficient base-stealer after being caught 11 times in 25 attempts in 1985. The next year he was 37-for-46 and in 1987 he was 56-for-68. He would finish his career with 3,141 hits, 319 stolen bases and eight batting titles.

"Tony just had so much dedication and pride," McKeon says. "He did it all himself."

The same could be said for Ripken who, like Gwynn with McKeon, had an early believer in Weaver but still had to work long and hard to establish himself as a Hall of Fame shortstop.

Mark Steyn: Swat somebody's butt, and yours belongs to the the D.A.


Saturday, July 28, 2007

Orange County Register

Do you know Cory Mashburn and Ryan Cornelison?

If you do, don't approach them. Call 911 and order up a SWAT team. They're believed to be in the vicinity of McMinnville, Ore., where they're a clear and present danger to the community. Mashburn and Cornelison were recently charged with five counts of felony sexual abuse, and District Attorney Bradley Berry has pledged to have them registered for life as sex offenders.

Oh, by the way, the defendants are in the seventh grade.

Messrs Mashburn and Cornelison are pupils at Patton Middle School. They were arrested in February after being observed in the vestibule, swatting girls on the butt. Butt-swatting had apparently become a form of greeting at the school – like "a handshake we do," as one female student put it. On "Slap Butt Fridays," boys and girls would hail each other with a cheery application of manual friction to the posterior, akin to a Masonic greeting.

Don't ask me why. The rear end seems to me to be far more prominent in society than it was back when I was a lad. There is a best-selling children's book, "The Day My Butt Went Psycho," by Andy Griffiths. No, not that Andy Griffiths. There were no psycho butts in Mayberry. This Andy Griffiths is an Australian. The U.S. edition was painstakingly translated from the original Aussie (The Day My Bum Went Psycho). And speaking of psycho butts, former senator and Democratic presidential candidate John Edwards said the other day: "The biggest problem is my butt hurts. Is that normal?"

Gee, I dunno. Standing next to Hillary at the YouTube debate will do that to you. Oh, wait, my mistake. He was taking part in a charity bicycle ride with Lance Armstrong. The Day My Butt Went Cycling.

Anyway, whether from presidential candidates or bestselling authors or the protagonists of the movie "Jackass," one hears a lot more about bottoms than one used to. Perhaps this is a poignantly freighted and highly literal image of Western Civilization contemplating its own end. Or perhaps I'm over-analyzing things, and the middle-schoolers just decided one day it was totally cool, as is their wont. Kids do the darnedest things, as we said back in Mayberry.

But that was then, and this is now. So, upon being caught butt-swatting, Mashburn and Cornelison were called to the principal's office, where they were questioned for several hours by vice principal Steve Tillery and McMinnville Police officer Marshall Roache. At the end of the afternoon, two boys who'd never been in any kind of trouble before were read their Miranda rights and led off in handcuffs to spend five days in juvenile jail.

Tough, but I guess they learned their lesson, right?

Ha! The state of Oregon was only warming up. After a court appearance in shackles and prison garb, the defendants were charged with multiple counts of felony sexual abuse, banned from school and forbidden any contact with their friends.

I spent the entire spring at the "white collar fraud" trial of Conrad Black, the deposed media baron of the Chicago Sun-Times, the London Telegraph, Canada's National Post and much else. A couple of weeks back, he was convicted on four of 13 counts and now faces 35 years in jail for taking an improper bonus of $2.9 million plus "obstructing justice" by removing boxes from his office in Toronto. Which is not in the United States. But with their usual ingeniousness the government successfully deployed a law which has never hitherto been applied extra-territorially, except for witness-tampering.

Having had no previous prolonged exposure to the American justice system, I was interested to see whether the techniques used by U.S. Attorney Patrick Fitzgerald were particular to that case or more widely applied. The Oregon butt psychos make an instructive study. As in the Black trial, once the authorities had decided on their view of the case, other parties were leaned on to fall into line and play the role of "victims." Of 14 other students interviewed by officer Roache, seven (boys and girls) told him they had engaged in bottom-swatting themselves. Two of the "victims" said they had done it to others. At the initial hearing, a couple of female students spontaneously testified that they'd felt very much pressured to conform during their interviews with the vice principal and the police officer. "Well, when the principal asked me stuff, I kind of felt pressured to answer stuff that I was uncomfortable, and that it hurt, but it really didn't," said one girl.

What does hurt? Attracting the attention of the district attorney. The prosecutor's office reduced the counts from felony sexual assault (with which he'd successfully charged a couple of other middle-school students a year ago) to five misdemeanor counts of sexual abuse and five counts of sexual harassment.

With the boys' respective parents already in the hole for $10,000 apiece in legal fees, the D.A. used the most powerful weapon in the prosecutor's armory: Cop a plea, and we'll make all the pain go away. In this instance, that would mean pleading guilty in return for probation. The terms of probation would prevent Mashburn and Cornelison from contact with younger children, which would mean they couldn't be left with their younger siblings.

Mashburn and Cornelison do not believe they've committed a crime, so they would like to exercise their right to the presumption of innocence – a bedrock principle of the English legal tradition now in great peril from American prosecutorial excess. Instead of letting the state bully them into a grubby, shaming deal, the boys would like it to do what justice systems in civilized societies are required to do: prove the crime. It's a gamble: Those 10 charges each command a one-year sentence, plus lifelong sex-offender registration.

District Attorney Berry told reporter Susan Goldsmith of the Oregonian that his department "aggressively" pursues sex crimes. "These cases are devastating to children," he said. "They are life-altering cases."

No, sir. The only one devastating children's lives is you. If you "win," and these "criminals" are convicted, 20, 30 years from now – applying for a job, volunteering for a community program, heading north for a weekend in Vancouver and watching the Customs guard swipe the driver's license through the computer – there'll be a blip, something will come up on the screen, and for the umpteenth time two middle-age men will realize they bear a mark that can never be expunged. Because decades ago they patted their pals on the rear in a middle-school corridor.

A world that requires handcuffs and judges and district attorneys for what took place that Friday in February is not just a failed education system but an entire society that's losing any sense of proportion. Without which, civilized life becomes impossible. So we legalize more and more aspects of life and demand that district attorneys prosecute ever more aggressively what were once routine areas of social interaction.

A society that looses the state to criminalize schoolroom horseplay is guilty not only of punishing children as grown-ups but of the infantilization of the entire citizenry.

©MARK STEYN

Saturday, July 28, 2007

Justice Delayed

American Journalism Review, June/July 2007

August/September Preview » Many in the media jettisoned caution--and the presumption of innocence--in their coverage of an alleged rape by Duke lacrosse players, and were too slow to correct the record as the case unraveled. But some journalists distinguished themselves with skeptical and incisive reporting.

By Rachel Smolkin

Rachel Smolkin (rsmolkin@ajr.umd.edu) is AJR's managing editor.

As Reade Seligmann choked back tears on the witness stand, the 21-year-old Duke University lacrosse player dubbed "Flustered" by teammates was poised, compelling and clearly hurting. He told of a world turned "upside down" and of experiencing "as lonely of a feeling as you can ever imagine" after he was indicted for allegedly raping a stripper at a team party on March 13, 2006. He described the stinging slights from former friends, the terrifying death threats--and the inescapable media horde.

On April 18, 2006, Seligmann and teammate Collin Finnerty were arrested on charges of first-degree rape, first-degree sex offense and first-degree kidnapping. After posting bond, Seligmann hurried out the back of the Durham County Jail, but there was no hiding from the media. "We pretty much had to run to our car to get there," he told a hushed courtroom and a disciplinary panel of the North Carolina State Bar on June 15, 2007. "From that initial bum rush to our car, that was the beginning of just a media frenzy for an entire year, and it continues now."

Michael B. Nifong--the district attorney who pursued Seligmann, Finnerty and teammate David Evans even as evidence of their innocence mounted and his case imploded--was held accountable for his actions. Hours after Seligmann testified, Nifong announced his intention to resign; the next day, he was disbarred.

The media incurred no such penalties. No loss of license, no disciplinary panels, no prolonged public humiliation for the reporters, columnists, cable TV pundits, editorial writers and editors who trumpeted the "Duke lacrosse rape case" and even the "gang-rape case" in front-page headlines, on the nightly news and on strident cable shoutfests.

Of course, Nifong had information and power the media did not. His failing in the case cannot be overstated, nor can it be equated to that of a throng of journalists and pundits, however odious some of their reporting and commentary. But the media deserve a public reckoning, too, a remonstrance for coverage that--albeit with admirable exceptions--all too eagerly embraced the inflammatory statements of a prosecutor in the midst of a tough election campaign. Fueled by Nifong, the media quickly latched onto a narrative too seductive to check: rich, wild, white jocks had brutalized a working class, black mother of two.

"It was too delicious a story," says Daniel Okrent, a former New York Times public editor, who is critical of the Times' coverage and that of many other news organizations. "It conformed too well to too many preconceived notions of too many in the press: white over black, rich over poor, athletes over non-athletes, men over women, educated over non-educated. Wow. That's a package of sins that really fit the preconceptions of a lot of us."

The lessons of the media's rush to judgment and their affair with a sensational, simplistic storyline rank among journalism's most basic tenets: Be fair; stick to the facts; question authorities; don't assume; pay attention to alternative explanations.

"The outcome of this whole story is square pegs can't be fit into round holes, and we saw the dangers of what happens when modern media attempts to do that," says Duke senior Ryan McCartney, who for much of the saga was editor of the Chronicle, the independent student newspaper. "Hopefully this case will kind of go down in the books as a lesson to media organizations on all levels to...second-guess themselves any time they think a story is clear-cut."

Too often, the preconceptions--rather than the facts--dictated not only the tone of the coverage but also its volume and prominence. "I think that you begin by being prudent," Okrent says. "And that's not the way that the American press began on this story. You begin by being prudent and, as things develop, that determines whether you amp up the volume or not. Here it began with a roar at the very start. It went in the wrong direction. If it had begun calmly and prudently, it never would have become a roar."

The roar began on March 24, 2006, when Raleigh's News & Observer broke the news on its front page that "all but one member of the Duke lacrosse team had reported to the Durham police crime lab" for DNA testing. "Police think at least three of the men could be responsible for the sexual assault, beating, robbery and near-strangulation of one of two women who had an appointment to dance at the party March 13, according to a search warrant," the story said.

As the shocking allegations ricocheted across the nation and a media mob descended on Durham, the district attorney served up salacious sound bites affirming a certain crime with chilling racial overtones. On March 31, 2006, Nifong told the N&O that he'd given "in excess of 50" interviews; he also spoke publicly on the case. He called the players "hooligans." He told MSNBC, "I am convinced there was a rape." He proclaimed, "I'm not going to allow Durham's view in the minds of the world to be a bunch of lacrosse players from Duke raping a black girl in Durham."

Following the Nifong playbook, many in the media abandoned the possibility of innocence. "I'm so glad they didn't miss a lacrosse game over a little thing like gang rape!" CNN Headline News' Nancy Grace exclaimed March 31, during a broadcast in which she portrayed the athletes as rich, privileged jocks.

Even for reporters concerned with evenhandedness, Nifong's on-the-record proclamations complicated the coverage. When the media pursued Richard Jewell, who was wrongly suspected of the Centennial Olympic Park bombing in Atlanta, some journalists irresponsibly ran with off-the-record leaks from law enforcement sources (see "Going to Extremes," October 1996). In this instance, Durham's DA condemned the team for attribution. Journalists who ignored the horrific allegations or the inflamed racial and class tensions in the community would have neglected what seemed to be an important story.

A fast-shifting set of facts and the team's reluctance to speak publicly also flummoxed reporters early on. "The ground was moving underneath your feet," McCartney says. "It was true for the administration, it was true for the lacrosse players, it was true for the media, it was true for us as student journalists. We were just trying to get our bearings... It takes a very bold person to step back and say, 'They're getting it wrong.'"

National and international coverage tended to focus on strains between "town and gown," depicting an elite, largely white university colliding with the working-class, racially mixed city that surrounds it. The privileged nature of Duke's students, particularly its athletes, was frequently invoked; references to Duke's "Gothic" architecture and the schisms of the Old South were also popular. Several accounts noted that Duke was thought to be the model for the hard-partying, elite institution portrayed in Tom Wolfe's 2004 novel, "I Am Charlotte Simmons," which also featured rich lacrosse players.

"University rape highlights racial divisions in South," proclaimed London's Sunday Telegraph on April 2, 2006. "Lax Environment; Duke lacrosse scandal reinforces a growing sense that college sports are out of control, fueled by pampered athletes with a sense of entitlement," said a Los Angeles Times headline on April 16, 2006. A March 31 USA Today story weighed in on the divisive atmosphere: "The racially charged lacrosse team sexual assault scandal that is roiling Duke University has also exposed deep divisions between the elite private school and the more humble Tobacco Road community that surrounds it."

The New York Times, which would publish more than 100 pieces on the case, first weighed in on March 29, after Duke suspended the team's season. The page-one story headlined "Rape Allegation Against Athletes is Roiling Duke" contained no reference to Nifong's heated campaign for district attorney (he'd initially been appointed to the post), which many observers later said motivated him to hurtle forward with a disastrous case.
Times Executive Editor Bill Keller says criticism of his paper's performance has "in some instances been unfair to the point of hysteria." But he also says, "I think we were a little slow to get traction on the story, frankly. Partly we were slow figuring out who had custody of the story: sports, national, investigative. It took us awhile to get specific people focused on this as their responsibility."

Keller says the Times tended to cover the saga episodically "rather than early on focusing a lot of investigative energy on the story. It took us longer than it should have for us to give the holes in the prosecutor's case the attention it deserved." He adds that reporters' jobs were complicated initially because the defense wasn't talking.

Nifong showed no such restraint, accusing the players of hiding behind "this stone wall of silence." He told CNN, "[i]t just seems like a shame that they are not willing to violate this seeming sacred sense of loyalty to team for loyalty to community." In reality, the co-captains had voluntarily given statements and taken DNA tests; they also offered to take polygraph tests.

Nevertheless, some in the media seized on Nifong's statements as gospel. A popular early theme for columnists was excoriating the players--in pieces often laden with a presumption of guilt--for their alleged conspiracy of silence. "There's something disgustingly wrong when a Duke University men's lacrosse team...puts some skewed code of silence ahead of telling Durham, N.C., police everything they know," Johnette Howard, a sports columnist at Newsday, wrote March 31. Howard asserted that "not one" of the players "has broken ranks and spoken to investigators about what happened at the house that night. The code is that strong."

New York Times columnist Selena Roberts railed against the "code of silence" that same day, declaring, "At the intersection of entitlement and enablement, there is Duke University, virtuous on the outside, debauched on the inside...a group of privileged players of fine pedigree entangled in a night that threatens to belie their social standing as human beings."

Keller says assessing morality "taught and practiced in the theater of college athletics" is a fair subject for sports columnists. But without naming specific columnists--the Times' Harvey Araton also jumped in to upbraid the women's lacrosse team for writing "innocent" on their sweatbands--Keller says, "I did think, and I told the columnists, that there was a tendency in a couple of places to moralize before the evidence was all in, and not to give adequate weight to the presumption of innocence... As a generalization, I'm not dismissive of the people who think that what appeared in the sports columns kind of contributed to a sense that the Times declared these guys guilty. I think that's a false impression, but I can understand where people got it."

In the News & Observer, metro columnist Ruth Sheehan also produced an early conspiracy-of-silence rant. Her March 27, 2006, piece began: "Members of the Duke men's lacrosse team: You know. We know you know. Whatever happened in the bathroom at the stripper party gone terribly terribly bad, you know who was involved."

Unlike many columnists, however, Sheehan reassessed as evidence of the players' innocence deepened. Her April 13, 2006, piece, published three days after defense attorneys announced that DNA tests found no links between the accuser and the athletes, invoked the specter of Tawana Brawley, the black girl whose 1987 account of a gang rape by white law enforcement officers quickly unraveled. "There is no punishment on the books sufficient for a woman who would falsely accuse even the biggest jerks on campus of gang rape," wrote Sheehan, who then divulged that she had been raped 20 years ago that week. At the time, she told no one.

Sheehan's deepening skepticism was reflective of the News & Observer's coverage as a whole. A McClatchy paper with a weekday circulation of 177,361, the N&O would quickly lead the media with probing, tenacious reporting that revealed numerous infractions in the investigation. But its "early coverage contributed to the narrative of racial/class/gender victimization that the local community and the national media seized upon," the paper's public editor, Ted Vaden, wrote on April 15, 2007.

A front-page, March 25, 2006, interview with the accuser, headlined "Dancer gives details of ordeal," did not name the woman, in keeping with the paper's policy on alleged victims of sex crimes. (The N&O did publish the accuser's name after the players were exonerated.) The one-sided, sympathetic portrayal, which several times referred to the accuser as "the victim," allowed her to make blind accusations. It wasn't made clear until deep into the story that the athletes could not be reached for comment.

A page-one story on March 28, 2006, disclosed that during the past three years, about a third of the men's lacrosse team had been charged with misdemeanors related to drunken and disruptive behavior. A similar front-page story on April 9 was headlined "Team has swaggered for years."

But the accuser's criminal record--stemming from a "2002 incident involving drunken driving, a stolen car and an attempt to flee from police"--was not mentioned until April 7, low in a story on A14. No details were included. "It seemed to me there was some imbalance in publishing misdemeanor offenses of the students, but taking longer to publish the accuser's more serious offenses," Vaden says. "And it was in a longer story about something else."

Executive Editor Melanie Sill calls the Duke case "a reminder of the need for skepticism when dealing with official sources and police and prosecutors... It's kind of a case study of a lot of things that you know can go wrong in crime reporting if you don't heed that maxim 'innocent until proven guilty.'"

This spring, Sill and her senior editors assembled the staff to talk about lessons learned from reporting on the case. "A lot of the coverage held up," she says. "I think there was a sense, though, that some stories were overplayed or lacked that sense of proportion." For example, "In reporting that storyline on the players' conduct, that's where we think that we overplayed things a bit and played to storyline a bit."

Sill notes the firestorm began as a local police story for the paper's Durham bureau, and "we likely didn't have as many person-to-person conversations as [we] would have if it had broken here." Like Keller, she cites challenges regarding initially taciturn players and their representatives. "The first three or four days of coverage that was a real hole in the reporting," she says. "In hindsight, we should have been much more emphatic much higher in the stories that we didn't have that other side."

Sill's reporters also watched in frustration as national media vied for their sources. "It was a messy story, and the outside media coverage, especially the cable television shows, the presence of every national media outlet here, made it much harder to report," she says. "People we would normally just go interview were having press conferences, or wouldn't talk, or would only talk in a leaking situation." But top editors told the staff that quoting unnamed sources was unacceptable.

Concerned about saturation coverage and the case's fluidity, senior editors also temporarily halted columns on the issue after Sheehan's second one, an April 3, 2006, piece demanding the firing of lacrosse coach Mike Pressler. The respite gave staff a few days to get a better handle on emerging facts; when the ban was lifted soon after, columnists were told to use care, and top editors vetted all columns.

The hometown paper, Durham's 36,815-weekday circulation Herald-Sun, has been vilified by defense attorneys and media observers for coverage that they say tended to be superficial and unsophisticated on its best days, biased, misleading and even flat-out wrong on its worst.

An April 25, 2007, story in the Chronicle, the Duke student paper, probed the Herald-Sun's more than 400 articles and editorials on the case and detailed sensational commentary, omissions and inaccuracies, including misrepresenting North Carolina Attorney General Roy Cooper's comments on CBS' "60 Minutes" shortly after he declared Seligmann, Finnerty and Evans "innocent" of all charges. In the headline and lead of a page-one story April 16, the Herald-Sun reported that Cooper had said the "racial strain" on the community factored into his declaration of innocence; Cooper, however, had said nothing of the sort. (A subsequent correction downplayed the magnitude of the error.)

A March 28, 2006, Herald-Sun editorial declared: "There's no question the student-athletes were probably guilty of all the usual offenses--underage drinking, loud partying, obnoxious behavior. But the allegations of rape bring the students' arrogant frat-boy culture to a whole new, sickening level." The next day, a particularly inflammatory column about the "victim" by John McCann asserted: "I don't fault the girl for not keeping up with the news and the history of rich brats who get drunk and don't know how to act... Those animals reportedly kicked her around like a dog."

Stuart Taylor, a National Journal columnist who was among the first to proclaim a miscarriage of justice in the case and is now writing a book, "Until Proven Innocent," due out in September, describes the Herald-Sun's coverage as "absolutely wretched just about every single day for the past year." His coauthor, KC Johnson, a history professor at Brooklyn College and a "procedure wonk," tracked the case exhaustively on his Durham-In-Wonderland blog (durhamwonderland.blogspot.com). Johnson wrote that the Herald-Sun "combined plodding pro-Nifong editorials with 'news' articles whose one-sided nature borders on journalistic fraud, topped off by a pattern of simply ignoring newsworthy items that can't be framed in pro-Nifong terms."

Asked to assess his paper's coverage, Editor Bob Ashley replies: "Overall, I thought it was pretty good. We were operating in a very difficult environment with media from all over the country... It was pretty much down the middle and pretty thorough. We got beat on some stories I wish we'd had first, but we beat others...on some others."

Ashley, a 1970 Duke graduate who came to the Herald-Sun in January 2005 when the Kentucky-based Paxton Media Group took over, also oversees the editorial page. "Some of the criticism has probably focused as much on our editorial positions, which we continue to think was appropriate," he says. "We think it was important for the judicial system to handle this case rather than bloggers and network pundits." Ashley's staff took Nifong at his word. "We weren't prepared for what turned out to be the enormously nonexistent case of the district attorney," Ashley says. "It was a veteran prosecutor. He'd been here for a while. We kept arguing we needed to wait and see."

The editor says his paper "always noted there was a presumption of innocence in a case like this. Given the context and the context of what we knew at the time, we were fair. We were opinionated, but we were fair."

National TV news reports also adopted the storyline of race, class and privilege.

On March 31, 2006, ABC's "Nightline" described the conflict between an "elite school" packed with outsiders and the "southern city that surrounds it. The question: Did a group of privileged white athletes commit a racially tinged and violent crime?"

Reports on network nightly newscasts tracked closely with breaking news and peaked in April 2006--the month Seligmann and Finnerty were indicted. The networks' combined total of 42 minutes that month on the Duke case exceeded their 35 minutes on the Iraq war, according to an analysis for AJR by Andrew Tyndall, who monitors the nightly newscasts. Alone among the networks, CBS devoted more time to the war that month (23 minutes versus 17 for Duke).

The case was especially popular on the cable news networks, where anchors and their guests chewed over every development. "These are shows which basically function only if you have sort of a phony debate, if you have people willing to take both sides," KC Johnson observes. "They shouldn't be considered journalism in any respect at all, but it's alarming because most of the public probably does consider it journalism, or journalism in some way."

CNN's Nancy Grace particularly distinguished herself, in a negative sense, with her mean-spirited comments about the athletes. Every piece of defense evidence that established innocence, "she spun as further evidence of guilt," Taylor says. "Or as, 'That just goes to show you how defense lawyers lie.'"

Grace declined interview requests. In an e-mail, spokeswoman Janine Iamunno included transcript excerpts to demonstrate that "Nancy's coverage of the Duke case should and could not be fairly characterized as 'out to get' the Duke players--there are a number of examples here where she actually rails against guests on her show who seem to be convicting the players before due process."

Yet the first excerpt Iamunno e-mailed, from June 9, 2006, underscores perceptions of unfairness. Kevin Miller, then news director at WPTF Radio in Raleigh, asserted that the defense had established reasonable doubt barring new information. Retorted Grace: "Well I'm glad you have already decided the outcome of the case, based on all of the defense filings. Why don't we just all move to Nazi Germany, where we don't have a justice system and a jury of one's peers?"

One prominent guest on Grace's show and others was Wendy Murphy, an adjunct professor at the New England School of Law and a former assistant district attorney in Middlesex County, Massachusetts. On April 10, 2006, after defense attorneys announced that DNA results found no links to the athletes, Murphy told Grace, "Look, I think the real key here is that these guys, like so many rapists--and I'm going to say it because, at this point, she's entitled to the respect that she is a crime victim."

Emerging questions about the investigation did not prompt Murphy to reassess. Appearing on "CNN Live Today" on May 3, 2006, she posited, "I'd even go so far as to say I bet one or more of the players was, you know, molested or something as a child." On June 5, 2006, MSNBC's Tucker Carlson asserted, relying on a Duke committee report, that the lacrosse team was generally well-behaved. Rejoined Murphy: "Hitler never beat his wife either. So what?" She later added: "I never, ever met a false rape claim, by the way. My own statistics speak to the truth."

Asked to evaluate her commentary, Murphy said in an interview: "Lots of folks who voiced the prosecution position in the beginning gave up because they faced a lot of criticism, and that's never my style." She notes that she's invited on cable shows to argue for a particular side. "You have to appreciate my role as a pundit is to draw inferences and make arguments on behalf of the side which I'm assigned," she says. "So of course it's going to sound like I'm arguing in favor of 'guilty.' That's the opposite of what the defense pundit is doing, which is arguing that they're innocent."

Broadcast news personalities did not confine their offensive comments to smearing the lacrosse players. On April 11, 2006, Tucker Carlson asserted that the accuser's "testimony about matters of sex is to be taken by ordinary commonsense people a little differently than the testimony of someone who isn't a crypto-hooker." Rush Limbaugh took a similar tack March 31, 2006, on his nationally syndicated radio program. He explained that the lacrosse team "supposedly, you know, raped some, uh, hos." Prompted by a caller, he later apologized for a "terrible slip of the tongue."

Although reporting became more skeptical as questions about the case deepened--a lack of DNA evidence, a solid alibi for Seligmann, a botched "lineup" that included no filler pictures of people unconnected to the case--this often occurred belatedly, if at all. "The stunning thing about the media travesty that this story was is that as evidence began to trickle out and pour out and finally become conclusive--that this didn't happen, that there was no rape--most of the media barely noticed," Taylor says.

Taylor cuts the media a little slack during the first frenzied days because prosecutors usually aren't so vocal "unless they have the goods." But he says there were serious omissions in coverage as exculpatory evidence emerged in late March and early April 2006. The media "reported episodically the things like the April 10 DNA results. It would just be sort of a tit-for-tat, 'Well, the defense struck a blow today.'" Instead, Taylor says, the media should have collectively asked: "Wait a minute, the prosecutor said the case would be over if the DNA was negative. Why isn't it over?"

Fifteen days after defense attorneys announced the DNA results, Time magazine's Jeninne Lee-St. John was still advancing the race/class storyline, positing that the black mother's accusations of rape against "generally privileged, younger white men conjures up memories of that classic American sex story: the pretty female slave being summoned up to the big house to sexually satisfy the master."

On April 19, 2006, after Seligmann and Finnerty were charged, the Christian Science Monitor published a story headlined "Duke lacrosse case: No DNA, but old-fashioned sleuthing." It stated: "Tests that pinpoint humans' unique genetic fingerprints are often overplayed as a forensic tool, experts say. Especially in violent crimes, old-fashioned gumshoe investigations, convincing witnesses, and believable testimony still rule the jury room, they add." The story did not delve into whether the Duke case had convincing witnesses, nor did it contain any response from defense lawyers.

On May 24, 2006--12 days after defense attorneys said a second round of DNA tests found no matches to any lacrosse players--the Washington Post's Lynne Duke wrote a piece headlined "The Duke Case's Cruel Truth." Fronting the Style section, it began: "She was black, they were white, and race and sex were in the air. But whatever actually happened that March 13 night at Duke University--both the reported rape and its surrounding details are hotly disputed--it appears at least that the disturbing historic script of the sexual abuse of black women was playing out inside that lacrosse team house party."

For its May 1, 2006, issue, Newsweek plastered the mug shots of Seligmann and Finnerty on its cover under the headline "Sex, Lies & Duke." Of the three newsweeklies, Newsweek devoted the most reporting power and prominence to the Duke story. An April 10, 2006, piece by Duke alumna Susannah Meadows and Editor at Large Evan Thomas was prescient in suggesting an alternative to the prevailing press perception of a "tawdry tale of pampered jocks"--that of "a tale of a prosecutor exploiting racial tensions with a trumped-up charge."

Although the May 1 cover forecast a hatchet job inside, the story by Meadows and Thomas thoughtfully examined holes in the case ahead of nearly all their national competitors. Thomas calls the cover art his "big regret," noting that Seligmann's alibi, detailed in the story, clearly established his innocence.

The mug shots reflected the indictments, Thomas says. (Evans was indicted May 15.) "But I had a twinge at the time, and I wish I'd had a stronger twinge. My advice at the time was we should think about this, but I did not--and I want to be clear about this--I did not bang my hand on the table and say, 'We can't do this.' It was merely, 'Are we comfortable with this?'" Then-Newsweek Editor Mark Whitaker, now senior vice president at NBC News, did not respond to an interview request placed with the press office there.

On August 25, 2006, the New York Times published a story that has emerged as the single-most-derided substantial look at the Duke case, criticized by bloggers, defense attorneys, Stuart Taylor and media critics including New York magazine's Kurt Andersen and the Times' then-public editor, Byron Calame.

The page-one, 5,600-word article by Duff Wilson and Jonathan D. Glater appeared after Joseph Neff of the News & Observer, Meadows and Thomas, Taylor, Johnson and others had begun to eviscerate Nifong's case. It also came two-and-a-half months after Wilson's and Glater's own June 12 story, published on page 13, describing "a growing perception of a case in trouble."

Although the Times' August story depicted a troubled investigation, overwrought summary graphs inflated Nifong's case and downplayed his blunders: "By disclosing pieces of evidence favorable to the defendants, the defense has created an image of a case heading for the rocks," the story said. "But an examination of the entire 1,850 pages of evidence gathered by the prosecution in the four months after the accusation yields a more ambiguous picture. It shows that while there are big weaknesses in Mr. Nifong's case, there is also a body of evidence to support his decision to take the matter to a jury."

Wilson and Glater relied heavily on exclusive access to 33 pages of typed notes and three pages of handwritten notes by Mark D. Gottlieb, the police sergeant supervising the investigation. Joseph B. Cheshire, an attorney for Evans, was quoted calling the belatedly filed report a "make-up document." Cheshire said Gottlieb told defense lawyers that he took few handwritten notes and relied on his memory and other officers' notes.

But elsewhere in the article, the journalists described those notes without skepticism. After detailing serious discrepancies between the accuser's description of the suspects in Gottlieb's notes and those of another officer, Benjamin W. Himan, the Times story stated, "The difference in the police accounts could not be explained." It added that Gottlieb "is by far the more experienced" of the two.

Wilson says he went to Durham planning "to do a big story" exploring the case files, following up on a front-page, August 6 News & Observer investigation by Neff headlined "Duke lacrosse files show gaps in DA's case."

But then Wilson saw Gottlieb's notes, which had not been previously reported. "That was news, and we felt we had to lead off with that, but also point out all the many doubts and holes and concerns," he says.

Wilson wishes he had reworded his summary graph to say there was some evidence to "explain" the district attorney's case, rather than "support" it, but says his wording has been taken out of context. "The article talked about evidence Nifong was using, and that part was true," Wilson says. "The article didn't try to support his case. The article tried to cover all the evidence."

The Times published two corrections regarding the story, one about a misattributed quote, the other about the number of potential suspects whom the accuser picked out in photographs, but did not back away from the thrust of the article.

Keller says the August story "wasn't a perfect piece, but it was a detailed and subtle piece that left you with no illusions about the strength of Nifong's case." The sergeant's notes, which Keller says were not leaked by the prosecution, "were interesting not because they proved the crime was committed, which they did not, but because they showed you for the first time what the prosecutor claimed he had, what was the basis for filing his charges."

Joe Neff, a News & Observer investigative reporter who lives in Durham, read the Times' story with surprise. Neff has specialized in documenting prosecutorial misconduct; Editor Melanie Sill credits his work in a death-row case for helping to bring about the state law that requires prosecutors to share all of their evidence with defense attorneys.

Neff had seen Gottlieb's notes before his August 6 story but could not convince his source to let him report on them. "I was really struck that [the Times reporters] used this report that I had seen, but they used it basically 180 degrees from how I was planning to use it," Neff says. "The discrepancy between Himan's description [of the suspects] and Gottlieb's description was irreconcilable."

Neff was one of a handful of journalists who dug deep into the evidence--some publicly available, some shared confidentially by sources--to debunk Nifong's case. These journalists bucked the pack and burrowed beneath an enticing narrative to raise questions about the rush to judgment against the lacrosse players.

Sill assigned Neff to the story because "she had a gut feeling that it wasn't right," he says. "[W]e kept peeling back the layers of the onion. At first it just seemed like incompetence or tunnel vision on the part of the DA and cops. As we went along, it becomes less of the tunnel vision and more deceit."

He was struck by the absolute insistence of the defense lawyers, whom he'd known for years, that their clients were "innocent." He had expected to hear more routine assertions that "it didn't happen that way; it's a misunderstanding."

"In few criminal cases have the prosecution and defense stuck their necks out so far and so fast," Neff and Anne Blythe wrote April 8, 2006, on A1. On April 30, Neff, Michael Biesecker and Samiha Khanna reported that the accuser "picked out her alleged attackers in a process that violated the Durham Police Department's own policy on identification lineups." Neff's August 6 story revealed that the "accuser gave at least five different versions of the alleged assault to different police and medical interviewers and made shaky identifications of suspects. To get warrants, police made statements that weren't supported by information in their files."

National Journal's Taylor weighed in April 29, 2006, to assert "accumulating evidence strongly suggests that the charge may well be a lie." He then listed that evidence, including a timeline based on digital photos taken at the party. Three weeks later, Taylor declared, "the available evidence leaves me about 85 percent confident" that the three athletes "are innocent and that the accusation is a lie."

Taylor's coauthor, Johnson, was intrigued by the Duke case because of the vociferous faculty response, which he regarded as "incredibly improper." On April 6, 2006, 88 Duke faculty members placed an ad in the Chronicle thanking protesters--some of whom had branded the lacrosse players "rapists" and distributed "wanted" posters of them--"for not waiting and for making yourselves heard."

When Johnson launched his blog in August 2006 (he first blogged about the case on a historians' group site), he committed to at least one daily post of "good enough quality that it wouldn't harm my reputation academically." His research included a July 13, 2006, analysis of lineup procedures elsewhere in North Carolina and whether they followed the recommendations of a state commission. By early July 2007, he had blogged more than 800,000 words and attracted more than 2.6 million unique visitors.

With "this case, more than any other, there seemed to be a lot of Internet activity," says Jim Cooney, an attorney for Seligmann. The defense team monitored bloggers' work. A few "were doing just incredible research, finding documents we didn't even know existed," Cooney says. Reading Johnson's efforts "was like having a PhD paralegal."

At the Chronicle, Duke's student journalists worked to provide fair, nuanced coverage. Johnson says the News & Observer "doesn't get the praise it deserves" and thinks Sill hasn't gotten "near enough credit" for her leadership. But he adds that the Chronicle "didn't have the initial rush to judgment that the N&O did. They were the only paper you can say had it right from the start. They were dispassionate on the coverage. This was not a sort of 'let's rah-rah for Duke.' They were willing to criticize the Duke lacrosse team; they were willing to criticize the Duke administration."

One television journalist who humanized the accused and laid bare the travesty of the case was Ed Bradley. On October 15, 2006, in his second-to-last piece before his death the following month, Bradley offered a devastating indictment of the prosecution. "Over the past six months, '60 Minutes' has examined nearly the entire case file," he said. "The evidence we've seen reveals disturbing facts about the conduct of the police and the district attorney and raises serious concerns about whether or not a rape even occurred."

He began with Seligmann, Finnerty and Evans, who granted Bradley their first interviews, and also talked to the second dancer at the ill-fated party, Kim Roberts, who refuted key portions of the accuser's story.

The piece, produced and reported in large part by Michael Radutzky, has garnered a Peabody Award and an Edward R. Murrow Award. "We went into this story thinking that it just didn't seem like it all fit together well," says Executive Producer Jeff Fager. "We like turning conventional wisdom on its head."

More than a decade ago, correspondent Mike Wallace and producer Tom Anderson helped exonerate another falsely accused suspect, Richard Jewell. Fager thought of Jewell when the DNA results in the Duke case came back negative. "There's something that goes against the American way when a pack rules," Fager says, adding that his team's Duke reporting is "a tribute to Ed Bradley, and it says something about his legacy."

On cable, Dan Abrams emerged as an early and persistent critic of the prosecution's case on MSNBC's "The Abrams Report." Abrams, a 1988 Duke graduate, scolded on April 10, 2006, that "some want to embellish the story by suggesting it was almost inevitable it would happen at Duke.

They vastly overstate the tension between the Durham and Duke communities, inflate the sense of privilege at the university while exaggerating the economic woes of those in Durham. It is often nothing more than race and class baiting."

Now the general manager of MSNBC, Abrams rates the media's overall performance on the case "mediocre." In an interview, he said, "This is one of those stories where you had to be paying attention, and you had to be paying close attention. It's hard sometimes to get access to the best sources. This case was very competitive, and there was a lot of media involved."

But reporters who followed the facts got the story right. "This is really a case where people who did their homework were in the end rewarded," Abrams says. "There were some people out there who wanted to believe certain things about athletes and the university and about privilege, and some of these things may be true. But that doesn't have anything to do with whether these three young men raped a woman at a party that night."

Asked what the media should learn from the Duke case, Taylor, sounding exasperated, strikes a similar note. "Read the damn motions," he says. "If you're covering a case, don't just wait for somebody to call a press conference. Read the documents."

Taylor, who is also a lawyer, advises reporters to look beyond the rhetoric. "We should never take a prosecutor's word as fact." Conversely, don't disregard defense assertions as necessarily false. "Yes, many defense lawyers will say almost anything to get their clients off most of the time, but don't just ignore what they say," he says. "Look at what they're telling you. And do they have the evidence to back it up?"

Adds defense attorney Cooney: "The national media seems to believe balance requires them to report anything someone says, whether it's true or not." The fact-checking aspect of reporting, he says, "seems to have fallen by the wayside."

Looking back, Neff wishes he and his colleagues had paid more attention to two items available from the start. The first was a police blotter entry published in the Raleigh paper on March 22, 2006, on page B3. The brief said a woman had told police she was raped and robbed March 13 during a party at 610 N. Buchanan Blvd. It cited Sgt. Gottlieb as saying that residents of the rental house were cooperating.

"[W]hen the story blew up and it became this huge mess, we never said, 'Wait a minute. The police sergeant said they were cooperating, and Nifong said they weren't cooperating,'" Neff says. "I wish we would have caught that."

The second set of facts involved the accuser, who told an N&O reporter for the March 25, 2006, story that she had just started working as an exotic dancer. On April 7, the paper reported that she had been arrested in 2002 after stealing a taxi and trying to run over a police officer. "If we had pulled that incident report, we would have seen that she was doing a lap dance at a strip club," Neff says. "Part of the reporting is just to go, 'Oh, let's go pull this and see if there's anything there.'" In this instance, it "would have really given us pause. She's someone who's saying she only just started dancing a couple of weeks ago, when four years before she'd been dancing at a strip club and stealing a car."

Perhaps the most complex lessons about the media coverage of the Duke case involve issues of narrative. Unquestionably, the media too readily ran with a simplistic storyline, sacrificing a search for truth. Not only were the accused innocent of rape, the allegations of racial taunts that received so much media attention appear to have been exaggerated.

"We fell into a stereotype of the Duke lacrosse players," says Newsweek's Evan Thomas. "It's complicated because there is a strong stereotype [that] lacrosse players can be loutish, and there's evidence to back that up. There's even some evidence that that the Duke lacrosse players were loutish, and we were too quick to connect those dots."

But he adds: "It was about race. Nifong's motivations clearly were rooted in his need to win black votes. There were tensions between town and gown, that part was true. The narrative was properly about race, sex and class... We went a beat too fast in assuming that a rape took place... We just got the facts wrong. The narrative was right, but the facts were wrong."

If the facts are wrong, though, why explore the narrative at all? Is it fair to use the Duke lacrosse players to tell a larger story of athletes run wild--a theme that appeared not only on sports pages but also was splashed, repeatedly, on the front pages of major newspapers and amplified on cable shoutfests? Says Johnson: Once the facts are "proven not to be true, you certainly have to consider whether the narrative is relevant."

On May 28, 2006, nearly a year before Attorney General Cooper exonerated the accused, New York Times Op-Ed columnist David Brooks published a corrective account. "Witch hunts go in stages," he began. "But now that we know more about the Duke lacrosse team, simple decency requires that we return to that scandal, if only to correct the slurs that were uttered by millions of people, including me."

Brooks concluded: "[M]aybe the saddest part of the whole reaction is not the rush to judgment at the start, but the unwillingness by so many to face the truth now that the more complicated reality has emerged."

How did journalists and news organizations that embraced the case respond when it fell apart? Some chose to simply move on--abandoning the story entirely or clinging to their original storyline. As of late June, Nancy Grace had not returned to the subject since last summer, according to a Nexis search. A guest hosted her program on December 22, 2006, when Nifong dropped rape charges, and on April 11, when Cooper cleared the athletes. On June 12, as Nifong's disciplinary trial opened, Grace explored Paris Hilton's legal troubles.

In a mystifying March 25, 2007, column, the New York Times' Selena Roberts opined, "A dismissal doesn't mean forget everything. Amnesia would be a poor defense to the next act of athlete privilege."

Some news organizations continued to dig deep. Beginning April 14, 2007, the News & Observer published an exhaustive five-part retrospective by Neff examining Nifong's blunders. Each part appeared on A1; the first was headlined "Nifong's quest to convict hid a lack of evidence." On April 23, Newsweek's Meadows and Thomas offered "The inside story of the infamous evening," relying on interviews with Finnerty and Seligmann and their families as well as handwritten statements that Evans and two other team captains gave Durham police two days after the alleged rape.

Keller says media organizations should press forward with "more, better reporting," and cites a front-page story by David Barstow and Wilson that appeared December 23, the day after Nifong dropped rape charges. The article included admissions Nifong made in a three-hour interview two days earlier, including his acknowledgment that DNA results he kept from the defense were "potentially exculpatory."

To Daniel Okrent, simply continuing to report is not enough. "The one thing I'm quite certain I didn't see was an apology, which is certainly not one of the acts that the American media are particularly good at," the former Times public editor says. "It's a matter of media organizations owning up to their responsibility, and when they do something wrong, they should acknowledge that they do something wrong."

Okrent envisions a mea culpa--an editor's note, a front-page article, perhaps an "appearance on a platform in Times Square"--that would say, candidly: "'We blew it. We're sorry. We accept responsibility for having blown it.'"

On April 23, the News & Observer's Ruth Sheehan did just that. "Members of the men's Duke lacrosse team: I am sorry," she began. She noted that she had written 14 columns on the case, moving well beyond the "two Molotov cocktails" in her initial code-of-silence diatribe and her demand for coach Pressler's ouster. She had already acknowledged her errors, but, for many readers, that wasn't enough. They wanted an apology. And they got one.

"I decided I needed, just for my own conscience, really, to write the last column," says Sheehan, who regrets the damage that her first two pieces may have caused. "I will approach cases in a different manner now. I will be much more cautious. I had a visceral reaction to that case as it was being described by the prosecutor."

All too soon, the next lurid crime story will explode into the headlines. The media will have a chance to show what they learned from this fiasco. Will they remember that sometimes the accused are innocent? Will they proceed with caution, combing through the facts and avoiding sweeping generalizations? Will they remind viewers and readers, "It looks bad now, but not all the evidence is in"?

Maybe some journalists, such as Sheehan, really will apply more prudence and skepticism in the future. But the media's collective memory is notoriously short, and competitive pressures are awfully hard to resist.

Official assurances--whether about the guilt of privileged athletes or the existence of weapons of mass destruction--can persuade, even when they shouldn't. Journalists, in Keller's phrase, can get "sucked into the undertow."

So does another rush to judgment await some hapless citizen thrust into the media's glare?

Almost certainly.

AJR editorial assistant Sally Dadisman contributed research to this report.