washingtonpost.com
Incidental Victims of Abramoff's Largess

By Marc Fisher
Tuesday, January 24, 2006

Observers of the political scene got a good chuckle out of this month's spasm of charitable giving by politicians scrambling to unload campaign contributions from Jack Abramoff.

Teachers at the Jewish boys school founded and funded by the notorious lobbyist saw that sudden transfer of hundreds of thousands of dollars and said, Hey, what about us?

As Abramoff's house of corruption started to collapse in 2004, he suddenly shut down Eshkol Academy, which opened in Montgomery County in 2002 and ended up housed in a warehouse zone in Columbia. A few weeks before the end of the school year, the students were sent home, and the faculty was cut loose.

None of the teachers received their last few paychecks. According to a lawsuit 13 ex-Eshkol employees have filed against Abramoff and his wife, the teachers lost about a quarter of their salaries. So their lawyers, Jim Rubin and Mindy Farber, this month wrote to Gov. Bob Ehrlich asking that he pay the teachers himself. After all, the governor got $16,000 in contributions from Abramoff. After the lobbyist pleaded guilty to a slew of corruption charges, Ehrlich announced that he would give the tainted money to the Helping Up Mission in Baltimore.

The Eshkol teachers had a better idea. Why not "give the money to the Marylanders most directly affected by Mr. Abramoff's fraud?" Rubin wrote to Ehrlich.

There's been no response, but as it turned out, state lawyers informed the governor that campaign finance laws wouldn't allow a charitable donation of the money, so Ehrlich sent it back to Abramoff.

Which leaves the Eshkol teachers exactly where they were -- high and dry.

Eshkol "was a noble idea," says Joe Sweeney, who taught English at the school. "Very few people are altogether corrupt. Jack Abramoff had this notion of a new model for an Orthodox Jewish school: the best secular education, the best Judaic studies and sports."

But the school was utterly dependent on the money Abramoff channeled to it. The cash came in fits and starts, often meeting payroll at the eleventh hour, in the form of mysterious payments from the Capital Athletic Foundation, another Abramoff creation.

"Our school was essentially an extension of Jack Abramoff," says Sam Whitehill, who taught Hebrew at Eshkol. "When he left, the school died. He was the benefactor, 'Mr. Abramoff.' When he came by, we all groveled."

Eshkol charged about $12,000 in tuition, but many of its students were on scholarships. The school was heavily dependent on the foundation, which collected money from Indian tribes Abramoff represented and passed along more than $2 million to Eshkol. In e-mails to colleagues, Abramoff referred to Eshkol as "our front group."

But Eshkol was also a school good enough for Abramoff to send his two sons to and good enough to attract students from Orthodox communities in Silver Spring, Baltimore, New York and Montreal.

Some kids came because their parents respected Abramoff. Some came because they had gotten in trouble at other Jewish schools and needed a fresh start. And some came because they loved sports.

"A lot of the boys were there because they wanted to play hockey," Whitehill says. "Let's face it, it's not often that a Jewish school has a hockey team."

Abramoff wanted to build a school that would be strong in both Jewish and secular academics, and also in sports. Toward that goal, he bought the school two Zamboni ice-resurfacing machines. Only problem: He never got Eshkol a rink.

Abramoff's lawyers have told the teachers' lawyers that the Zambonis, school buses and other Eshkol assets have been sold, "but we haven't seen a dime," Rubin said. "We don't know where that money went." Similarly, Abramoff has sold a house in Silver Spring that he bought to use as a dormitory for Eshkol's boarding students, but the teachers haven't seen any of that money either.

A spokesman for Abramoff, Andrew Blum, declined to discuss any aspect of the Eshkol matter, saying, "We just don't want to comment on it."

While Eshkol went through some rough times -- one principal quit the day before school started, and several teachers complained of rampant discipline problems -- the teachers generally don't see the school as part of Abramoff's larger crimes.

"He gave us a lot of independence," said math teacher Judy Stern, who sent her son to Eshkol. "He just wanted the best in every subject. If he hadn't built the school, all these boys who got a love of learning might not have. So I'm not at all angry with him; I'm more disappointed in the way things turned out."

Stern's son is now being home-schooled, as are some other former Eshkol students, including one of Abramoff's sons. Others have found places in other Jewish schools in the area.

"It was a real school with real teachers," Whitehill said. "It was just like his restaurant: He didn't run it right."

Some teachers were so loyal to Abramoff that they declined to join the lawsuit. "One guy, a religious Christian, said the Lord would take care of him," Whitehill recalled. "Others were still involved with the Jewish community and didn't want to cause a ruckus."

Extended discussions between the two sides in the lawsuit have not produced a settlement, Rubin said, despite Abramoff's repeated assertions that Eshkol was "nearest and dearest to my heart of everything I've ever done."

Most recently, Abramoff's lawyers have asked a Montgomery County court to put the teachers' case on ice while he deals with a "complicated" situation involving multiple federal investigations. The court has not ruled on the request.

Stern and Whitehill are among the many former faculty members who have found other teaching work. But the loss of a quarter of a year's pay leaves a big gap.

"People like Abramoff bounce back; look at Boesky, Milken, Marc Rich," Whitehill says. "He'll be back. I have no antipathy toward Mr. Abramoff. I just want to be paid."

"If Jack doesn't pay his lawyers, he'll lose them," says Sweeney, who is owed $13,000 and is struggling to get by teaching at a community college. "But the teachers are just a bunch of working stiffs. Jack can afford not to pay us without consequences. Well, I want my $13,000."

E-mail:marcfisher@washpost.com

View all comments that have been posted about this article.

© 2006 The Washington Post Company