Political scandals never get old
You want a political scandal? I’ve got one and it concerns the Massachusetts State Police.
No, I’m not talking about the indicted state cop schemers and skimmers who are now forced to make the perp walk in connection with the fraudulent abuse of overtime at the once-honored police agency. That is bad enough as 46 (and counting) current or former state troopers are caught up in the scheme that had them putting in for bogus overtime work they did not perform. Notice how ordinary these men look now when, without their spiffy uniforms, they are arrested and dragged into court to face the consequences of their alleged crimes. If it were not for U.S. Attorney Andrew Lelling, a Trump appointee, the cops would still be getting away with ripping off the taxpayer.
Ordinarily this disgraceful and dishonorable behavior would have rocked a normal administration. But RINO Gov. Charlie Baker has risen above it all by simply ignoring it. Ditto Attorney General Maura Healey. And the press and Baker’s weak political opponent, Democrat Jay Gonzalez, have let him get away with it.
But the scandal I am talking about also concerned the state police, even though it took place 86 years ago. I was not around to cover the event, although some people believe I was. But thanks to Michael E. Hennessy, a fine Boston Globe political reporter of a couple of generations ago, I do know something about it.
What I know comes from his dusty but marvelous and informative book about Massachusetts politics that I happened to stumble upon the other day. The book, published in 1935, is called “Massachusetts Politics 1890 to 1935.” The drab title in no way does the book justice. It is a book filled with political gems gathered by an old school reporter who covered the Statehouse and Massachusetts politics for years.
It was an era when reporters were reporters, and not today’s partisan activists who make their living slanting stories. They were reporters who wrote straight news stories. They reported events the way they happened, not the way they wanted them to happen. The state police scandal Hennessy covered went this way: In 1931, officials discovered that Capt. Charles T. Beaupre, a top state police official, had an issue with the bland uniforms the troopers wore. So he collected the uniforms and burned them. Then he illegally billed the state $13,000 for new uniforms.
Gov. Joseph Ely ordered an investigation. According to Hennessy, the investigators found “the old khaki uniforms of the State Police, valued at several thousand dollars, had been burned and that a contract had been made for fancy new uniforms without the authority of the proper state officials.”
A state police board found in Beaupre’s favor, of course, but the governor fired him anyway. He also fired the head of the agency and stripped him of his pension.
The case of Boston police officer Oliver B. Garrett is even more revealing. Garrett was head of the liquor/vice squad during Prohibition, which was not abolished until 1933. On a police salary of $40.36 a week, Garrett managed to bank more than $122,000, owned a $70,000 horse farm, a Boston town house and several cars.
“He was a czar in his own field,” Hennessy wrote. That field was overseeing illegal barrooms and arresting — and shaking down — violators for selling liquor. Garrett was demoted to patrolman after the newspapers wrote stories about his wealth. But Garrett had such pull with high-ranking police officials that he refused to accept the demotion.
Meantime, Garrett filed a phony disability claim stating he was hurt while riding in a police car. If Garrett was hurt, Hennessy reported, it was “while driving one of his trotting horses.” Nevertheless “his prayer was granted” and Garrett got the pension. An investigation by the attorney general found “shocking evidence” of Garrett’s graft and corruption, including the fraudulent disability pension.
Facing trial, Garrett skipped town and remained a fugitive for six months before turning himself in. Garrett pleaded guilty to extortion and was sentenced to two years in prison on Deer Island. Hennessy reported that the investigation cost Boston and the state $100,000. As a result, police Commissioner Herbert Wilson was fired. His replacement promised to “clean the Augean stable” of the police department.
Postscript: With Prohibition abolished and Garrett out of prison, Garrett worked as an MC in Boston night clubs. He even had a cocktail named after him called the “Million Dollar Cop.” In 1952, his pension of $4,567 was restored. He died in 1979. Ah, the good old days.