"Whether it makes a difference that he is Ken Starr, a onetime federal judge and solicitor general, or whether it makes a difference that he is Ken Starr, independent counsel in the Whitewater investigation with a certain political perspective, it's hard to know," said John G. Douglass, an associate professor of law at the University of Richmond. "Certainly, Ken Starr catches people's attention when he walks into a courtroom."
A.E. Dick Howard, a law professor at the University of Virginia, noted that Starr probably knows most of the judges who will decide the case. "He's almost bound to have met them, to know them, but . . . he'll have to make his case as a lawyer."
The jury in Robin Lovitt's case was not told about several things, says Kenneth W. Starr, right, shown with Charles Bakaly during the 1998 presidential impeachment inquiry. Among those were Lovitt's upbringing and a report challenging the validity of the murder weapon.
(Gary Hershorn -- Reuters)
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Still, Howard said, that's where Lovitt is fortunate. Starr "is one of the most seasoned lawyers at the Washington bar." For a defendant without resources, he said, "if you catch the eye of someone of that stature, it immensely improves your chances."
What Shaped Their Lives
Kenneth Starr was 17 when Robin Lovitt was born, and their lives could hardly have been more different. The son of a conservative minister in Texas, Starr grew up in a home where there was no drinking, cursing or smoking -- not even dancing, in keeping with the family's Church of Christ values. He memorized Bible verses as a child, made top grades and was voted "Most Likely to Succeed" in high school.
As a young man, he considered politics and teaching college. He graduated from George Washington University, received a master's degree at Brown and then opted for law school at Duke. There, he paved the way for his clerkship with then-U.S. Chief Justice Warren E. Burger. By 34, Starr joined the Reagan administration. At 37, he was a federal appeals court judge, and at 42, U.S. solicitor general, the government's top lawyer.
Starr's public image as rigid and doctrinaire during the Clinton years belies a more nuanced history. Although he ruled against an affirmative action plan, he made decisions that favored First Amendment rights and a military officer's right to wear a yarmulke with his uniform. He joined the evangelical McLean Bible Church, volunteering with its inner-city ministry, and helped lead a Bible study for inmates at the Fairfax County jail.
Lovitt, by comparison, grew up the eldest of 12 children in a small, chaotic home in Arlington, where his alcoholic stepfather abused his wife and children, according to affidavits submitted during his appeals. One sibling recalled Lovitt being beaten with a telephone cord. Another recalled a nighttime beating as Lovitt lay in bed. When the abuse was not physical, it was often sexual. One sister testified that her father randomly chose whom to molest when he came home drunk after work; another testified that she feared her first child had been fathered by him.
Lovitt's mother and stepfather used drugs, and his stepfather sold them, according to court records. Lovitt followed suit at a young age -- drinking his first beer at 5, smoking marijuana at 7, turning to speed and heroin as a teenager and then PCP and crack cocaine. Along the way, he was arrested, sent to a juvenile detention center and dropped out of school. By 35, he had spent 15 years in prison, mostly on burglary, drug and larceny charges.
In what his attorneys suggest in a brief was a sign that "all may not have been well" in Lovitt's family, all five of his brothers had been to prison and at least two sisters had criminal records.
At times, Lovitt tried to turn himself around. He received a GED diploma. In 1998, he showed signs of improving while completing 169 days of a county substance-abuse program. Afterward, he landed a job as a cook at Champion Billiards on Shirlington Road and enrolled in culinary classes at Stratford College.
A co-worker at the pool hall was impressed. "He appeared to be getting himself together," recalled assistant manager Jennifer Wright. But in fall 1998, Lovitt did not show up for shifts. When he did finally come around, he was noticeably unkempt and asked to borrow money, co-workers said.
In early November, he entered a detox program. He also applied for a long-term residential drug treatment slot, describing his goal bluntly: "I've used drugs all my life and I need all the help I can get."
Conflicting Accounts
Out of detox less than a day, Lovitt bought crack, smoked it with friends and eventually made his way to the pool hall where he once worked. It was after 3 a.m. on Nov. 18, 1998.
Lovitt said he told Clayton Dicks, the night manager, that he was hungry and tired, according to his police statement. "Don't worry about it. I gotcha," he recalled Dicks saying as he went to the kitchen to whip up some eggs. Lovitt ate, then stopped in the restroom as he was leaving. Upon coming out, he told police, he saw a man in a suit fighting with Dicks and ducked back into the restroom, thinking "it wasn't my business."
