The Bobblehead Politician

Fumo's Senate-paid employees sometimes grumbled about their jobs. The indictment quotes an e-mail written by one of the Senate employees in Fumo's Philadelphia office, complaining bitterly that the Senate employees in Fumo's Harrisburg office just didn't understand how hard the Philly staffers worked:

"I would like to see their reaction when they are told to drive cars back from Martha's Vineyard on a Sunday. . . . I would like to see their reaction when they are told to drive people to get their hair done. . . . I would like to see their reaction if they had to wrap 150 VJF bobblehead dolls."

Apparently, the act of writing that e-mail was cathartic because the staffer added this cheery coda: "PS I love my job and wouldn't trade it for any job in the Senate!"

The Pennsylvania Senate was not Fumo's only source of OPM, according to the indictment. In 1991 he founded a nonprofit organization called Citizens' Alliance for Better Neighborhoods, and over the next decade he allegedly steered over $30 million in state funds and corporate grants to the group. Then, according to the indictment, he used it as his personal piggy bank.

The Citizens' Alliance allegedly paid $250,000 for Fumo's political polls. It allegedly bought a $36,000 Chrysler minivan for Fumo. It also allegedly bought a Jeep Wrangler, a Dodge Caravan, a Lincoln Navigator and a Cadillac Escalade for the use of Fumo and his cronies. Plus a bulldozer for Fumo's farm and $75,000 for various items for Fumo's various homes, including $3,929 worth of "mosquito magnets," $171 worth of tiki torches and, for $6,500, 19 Oreck vacuum cleaners.

Why did Vincent J. Fumo allegedly want 19 vacuum cleaners?

One for each floor of each of his homes, according to the indictment.

Hey, the man might be a dirty pol but he runs a clean house.

In 2000, the Army Corps of Engineers decided to build sand dunes along the coast near Fumo's New Jersey beach house, which allegedly caused the senator to fret that the dunes might spoil his view of the ocean. So he allegedly ordered the Citizens' Alliance to spend $60,000 fighting the dunes project, allegedly with the help of one of Fumo's Senate-paid consultants.

On and on it goes -- far too many alleged purchases to detail here. But no account of Fumo's adventures can fail to mention the saga of the Bristol Township War Dog Memorial.

The mayor of Bristol, Pa., wanted to build a memorial to the heroic dogs of the U.S. military. And Fumo allegedly wanted the mayor to support a Fumo crony for the state Senate, so Fumo allegedly pledged $100,000 for the war-dog memorial. Which allegedly inspired this e-mail conversation between Fumo and an aide:

Fumo: "Isn't that an awful lot for a statue of a DOG?????"

Aide: "Senator, I would agree that this price is a bit high but we did agree to get him the money."

Fumo: "Yes, I remember that but did we agree to $100K?"

Aide: "Senator, yes we agreed to $100K."

After a couple more e-mails Fumo allegedly instructed the aide to have Citizens' Alliance donate $50,000 to the war-dog cause.

"When the memorial was constructed," the indictment states, "a prominent plaque was placed in the front, stating 'A Special Thanks To Our Sponsors,' the first of whom named was 'Senator Vincent J. Fumo.' "

Someday, America may finally get its long-overdue Crooked Pol Hall of Fame, and on that fine day perhaps Vincent J. Fumo will be honored with a room of his own. Until then, his long, distinguished career of public service will be immortalized by a simple plaque on the statue of a heroic war dog in Bristol, Pa.