NORTH CAROLINA VOICES: Did Easley sink too deep into his comfort zone?

My old boss, former U.S. Sen. Robert Morgan, told me this story years ago, and it made an indelible impression on me:

When Morgan was still at law student at Wake Forest University, Harnett County political kingmaker Veneble Baggett sought him out and urged him to come home and run for clerk of court. With the old pol’s considerable help, he did and won easily. Then after the dust had settled, Baggett came to Morgan for a heart-to-heart talk.

“Promise me one thing,” Baggett said emphatically. “If I ever come and ask you to do something that is wrong, promise me now that you won’t do it. Because if you say ‘yes,’ I will never have any respect for you again.”

Baggett had been around long enough to understand the pressures and temptations that politicians face and knew that more often than not they come from those closest to them — those they theoretically owe the most. Perhaps herein lies the origin of the politician’s prayer: “Lord, protect me from my friends. I can watch my enemies.”

Former Gov. Michael Easley would have been well served to utter that prayer from time to time. I don’t know the details, but I do know that whatever he did that prompted extended criminal investigations and resulted in his felony conviction this week was done with friends and close political associates.

Were there times when he said “yes” when he should have said “no”? No one is ever apt to know, because prosecutors and his attorney, Joe Cheshire, struck a deal that branded the dapper former governor a felon and brought shame upon his house and upon the state of North Carolina. Some, undoubtedly, will feel that Easley got a break.

After all the fuss and speculation, an Alford plea — a guilty plea that isn’t really a guilty plea — to a minor campaign-finance violation? A $1,000 fine? But trial lawyers and prosecutors alike will tell you that proving conspiracies and convincing 12 jurors there was quid pro quo for political gift-giving is difficult. There’s a thin line between back-scratching and corruption. State and federal prosecutors in written statements allowed that their evidence was weak and that convictions were far from guaranteed.

Joe Cheshire, lawyer to the stars, is as good as they come. I interviewed him earlier this year for a documentary about Greg Taylor, the guy who served 17 years for a crime he did not commit. I asked him about a lawyer’s duty. I remember this part of his answer: If you see a guilty verdict is inevitable, then your job is to get the best deal you can for your client. Cheshire must have seen the train coming down the track in Easley’s case.

Back to those “friends.” Apparently Easley has a very small comfort zone. He rewarded buddies with enviable appointments in his administration. A handful of top fundraisers were in his inner circle. They belonged to the right country clubs and made sure that Easley belonged to the right one, also. They owned planes that were at his beck and call, allowing him to disappear and leave Easley watchers scratching their heads.

Disappear? It became the operative word as his administration moved into the second term. The governor became increasingly reclusive. With offices in both the Capitol and the Administration Building, Easley seemingly preferred the small manned-up room at the north end of the mansion’s second floor living quarters — an office that his Highway Patrol security team, some 25 strong, referred to as “The Eagle’s Nest.”

The speculation on the streets of the State Capital went from amusing “Where’s Waldo” talk to rumors of a depressed, withdrawn recluse occasionally yelling down the grand stairwell of the executive mansion and telling visitors or staff below to hold the noise down. Rules were promulgated about use of stairs and elevators, assuring that mansion staff would not encounter the governor coming or going. Toward the end of his second term, his Highway Patrol security team was openly complicit, covering his tracks and even using decoy cars as they spirited him away from obligatory appearances so he could avoid interaction with media. Woodworking, not governing, seemed to be his one passion — not making bird houses, but elaborate pieces of furniture.

It’s a story with a sad ending. A respected former district attorney, attorney general and governor who is now a convicted felon. A proud state whose reputation is besmirched.

Michael Easley is a tragic figure. Perhaps he is the governor who never should have been. Maybe there’s a lesson here. Maybe Sarah Palin was right. If you don’t like it, quit.

Carroll Leggett is a Winston-Salem public-relations/public-affairs professional. He served as chief deputy attorney general of North Carolina (1969-1975) and chief of staff to U.S. Sen. Robert Morgan (1975-1981).

The Journal welcomes original submissions for North Carolina Voices on local, regional and statewide topics. Essay length should not exceed 750 words. The writer should have some authority for writing about his or her subject. Our e-mail address is: Letters@wsjournal.com. You may also mail a typed essay to: Letters to the Journal, P.O. Box 3159, Winston-Salem, NC 27102. Please include your name and address and a daytime telephone number.