Saturday, April 12, 2014

Bailey Bids Buh-bye to Barrister Business

An article yesterday in Portland’s largest newspaper reported the following:

F. Lee Bailey, the famed defense attorney who sought to make a comeback in Maine after being disbarred more than a decade ago, lost his bid to practice law on a split decision Thursday by the Maine Supreme Judicial Court.

                               

Bailey was denied the right to practice law in Maine in a 4-2 decision by Maine’s highest court. The ruling Thursday overturned a previous decision by a single justice who found that Bailey was fit to practice law because he was sufficiently rehabilitated after mishandling a client’s stocks worth $6 million.

The court denied Bailey in a 4-2 decision, saying the lawyer who helped to win acquittals for celebrity defendants O.J. Simpson and Dr. Sam Sheppard had “failed to demonstrate that he is sufficiently rehabilitated by proving that it is highly probable that he recognizes the wrongfulness and seriousness of most of the misconduct he committed.”

FLee, as we’ve called him in posts in the past, may be best remembered as a confidant and advisor to our own Johnny Protocols, especially during his failed gubernatorial campaign effort of 2010.

                 

The pair is shown above during that time frame, taking up space as non-paying customers in Wild Oats at the Tontine Mall.

It occurs to us that FLee should have consulted with JP on the path to rehabilitation and redemption in the public eye.  If he had, we might be reading about Bailey’s election to the Yarmouth town council, a group he could no doubt nullify at will.

                               

Or his non-judgmental embrace of international statesmen.

Bailey, of course, distinguished himself several in the case of Oxford Aviation’s attempt to hornswoggle a huge hangar on the former Naval Base.  Words we posted back then include these:

Bailey uses soaring flights of hyperbole, enchanting all within earshot without the slightest bit of evidence, analysis, or substantiation. Try these: “a tremendous opportunity for Brunswick, far beyond anything I had imagined;” and “further cement Brunswick as a global leader in the aviation world.”

Bailey touts “contracts with aviation industry titans,” and avows that Oxford is “in discussions with Airbus.” His speechifying is all we have to go on. I suppose we should be grateful, though; this is too good a deal to pass up, right? (If you were an Airbus executive, would you take Oxford Aviation seriously?)

Jim Horowitz, the owner of Oxford Aviation, has kept out of the public eye, except to plead for more respect for his employees, a frivolous distraction from the troubling facts on the record.

And this:

…which could morph Oxford Aviation’s towering world-wide reputation for skill and quality in aircraft refurbishing into similar results with business jets, for which there is a large and growing market.

You remember Oxford Aviation, don’t you?  Trust us, you’re better off if you don’t.  Especially since Kestrel Aviation swept in to “further cement Brunswick” as an also ran in the aviation world.

Juniper Road and Tracks

In the process, though, FLee taught JP the finer points of public hyperbole, which is why councilor Protocols could say at the recent council meeting that he lives ‘within a stone’s throw’ of the railroad tracks.

By our reckoning on Google Earth, that means Johnny P can hurl a stone something like 6,000 feet or more, which for the non-technical, is in excess of one mile, or about 50 times further than Bouchard Drive residents live from the tracks.

Maybe he should enter the David and Goliath games this summer.

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1 comment:

  1. When I heard J.R. say the "stone's throw" comment, I said to myself, "Richardson must have moved downtown somewhere" thinking that would be VERY uncharacteristic of him and it must have been hard finding a suitable home there....I have thought of claiming of being born a stone's throw from the tracks at the old Brunswick Hospital on the corner of Union and Cumberland Street, but even in my younger days, that's a three stone's throw minimum!

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