Older, wiser, sadder

LITTLE ROCK — Some years ago, a headline on this very column hailed Lu Hardin as an “almost faultless Democrat.”

Presumably, he hadn’t yet discovered the high-dollar slot machines of Tunica, Miss., which at the time was still mostly rural Delta scrub trying to establish itself as a gaming destination.

I don’t recall characterizing Hardin as almost faultless-someone else was writing headlines back then-but he did come in for his share of laudatory adjectives here during his time in Arkansas politics.

We’re all a lot older and at least a little wiser now. Periodic disappointment in people you believe in doesn’t hurt in the latter instance, and probably contributes its share of gray hairs in the former.

In running through the list of politicians for whom I have had high regard as people, it doesn’t escape notice that it is a short one made shorter over time by circumstance. In truth, after more than 30 years in this business, there might not be any names left on it. I’m not sure because I’m afraid to look too closely at it.

Ah, well, the office wag has always found me too trusting, even in my growing cynicism, which is kind of funny when you think about it because so many never made the cut to get onto that list in the first place.

Never mind. Who goes through life without experiencing disappointment, not just in people on the periphery of one’s professional or personal life, but even in people we count among our nearest and dearest?Who among us is without silly foibles or outrageous faults? I know of none. If I’d had an “I like Lu” button when his decision to plead guilty in federal court to felony money laundering and wire fraud charges became known to me, I probably would have put it on, but with great sadness. This entire episode has been nothing as much as sad for so many people, most especially, I’m sure, for Hardin, given the heartache through which he has put those he loves.

No doubt Gov. Mike Beebe, who served with Hardin in the Arkansas Senate, spoke for many when he said that he always thought that Hardin “would never even entertain making up a document or doing anything like what apparently he’s admitted he’s done.”

But Hardin did that and more, prompted, his old friend Sheffield Nelson told a Palm Beach, Fla., newspaper, by personal debt attributable to a gambling problem that apparently few if any knew about until recently.

According to the federal information, in 2005 the University of Central Arkansas Board of Trustees passed a resolution “showing their appreciation for Hardin’s tenure” as president by awarding him a deferred compensation package totaling $300,000 in private funds that was to be paid out starting at the end of five years in annual increments of $60,000. Private funds were necessary because Hardin was already maxed out on his state funded salary of roughly a quarter million dollars a year.

Two years later, the board awarded him a $100,000 bonus to be paid from “legally available funds,” i.e., private donations made payable to UCA.

“Unbeknownst to the UCA Board, Hardin instructed those under his authority at UCA to immediately pay him the $100,000 from UCA funds, which were at the time public funds, and not moneys from private donations. . . .

“Before April of 2008,” the information continued, “Hardin was in financial distress with a large personal debt [and] had taken out loans from banks, drawn in liens of credit and made early withdrawals from his retirement fund to pay on the large personal debt, but was not able to extinguish it.”

From February 2008 until about June 2008, it stated, according to the feds, he devised a scheme for obtaining more money “by means of false and fraudulent pretenses” by which he sought immediate access to the $300,000 in the deferred compensation package. It involved dictating to his secretary letters of praise purportedly from UCA administrators advising that a full pay-out would be legal and recommending such action.

In a private meeting-contrary to the Arkansas Freedom of Information Act, I might add-the board voted to give Hardin the money.

According to the federal information, Hardin also dictated to his secretary a memo under the name of the board chairman directing the UCA director of human resources to make the payment from the trustees’ special fund. Then he told his secretary to destroy the documentation showing that he had done the dictating.

These actions caused the necessary interstate electronic fund transfers to be made on his behalf. He in turn purchased cashier’s checks on the funds deposited into his bank account to pay the aforementioned debts.

Which tells you something about how Hardin, the soft-spoken former state senator, U.S. Senate candidate and higher education chief turned university president, a lawyer (for now) and one-time gubernatorial aspirant, became a convicted felon. At best he could get extended probation, at worst 30 years and fines totaling a half-million bucks.

The word for the day is redemption. Here’s hoping Hardin, who turns 60 in September, finds it.

Associate Editor Meredith Oakley is editor of the Voices page.