Roanoke Times
Copyright (c) 1995, Landmark Communications, Inc.
DATE: MONDAY, May 21, 1990 TAG: 9005210116
SECTION: NATIONAL/INTERNATIONAL PAGE: A-1 EDITION: METRO
SOURCE: SUZANNE WOOTON BALTIMORE SUN
DATELINE: CHARLESTON, W.VA. LENGTH: Medium
But John Leaberry was wearing a listening device that recorded the unsuspecting governor's attempt to concoct a cover story for the two of them to tell federal authorities.
The conversation, according to most accounts, was like a model question-and-answer session for a surefire obstruction of justice charge. But the cunning Moore of the 70s had given way to a sloppy Moore of the 80s - a man who left paper trails and signed documents tantamount to extortion contracts.
The tape by Leaberry was the smoking gun federal investigators really needed. Despite mounds of evidence against him, investigators apparently believed that without the tape Moore would have fought the charges.
In a crowded federal courtroom two weeks ago, the 67-year-old white-haired Moore pleaded guilty to five counts of political corruption as his wife, Shelley, sat quietly behind him.
"A lot of people thought he was the Messiah," said J.D. Topping, a retired worker at the huge Union Carbide chemical plant in Charleston, who came to the courthouse just to watch.
But for years, many political insiders and a handful of aggressive newspaper editors believed what adoring voters could not.
"Arch was a liar, a scoundrel and a thief in 1968 when he was first elected governor, and he still is today," said Don Marsh, editor of the Charleston Gazette, the morning paper that relentlessly hounded Moore only to be labeled "The Morning Sick Call" by the governor.
Throughout his political career, the decorated World War II veteran campaigned almost militaristically with his "Arch Is Marching Through West Virginia" theme. From the time his helicopter crashed on election eve in 1968 - and he "rose from the ashes" to make a campaign speech before crawling into the ambulance - to his indictment this spring, the voters loved him.
During his first two terms as governor, from 1968 to 1976, the brash and arrogant former congressman gave them reason. Riding high on federal dollars, he completed interstates in a state cursed for its highways.
He supported education in a way few before him, and few afterwards, would. There were raises for teachers, public kindergarten for the kids.
His political opponents, capitalizing on extortion charges, screamed "Where's the cash, Arch?" A few newspapers, notably the Gazette and the Williamson Daily News, documented abuses over and over and editorialized constantly. The Gazette called the man with a penchant for $1,000 suits, "the little king."
But, in a state that yearned for leadership, Moore's growing list of accomplishments overshadowed the truth. In 1984, when he returned to office for an unprecedented third term, his political magic vanished as rapidly as the dollars from Washington under the Reagan administration.
"Arch was absolutely at a loss about how to run the state without federal dollars," said Farrell. The economy went into one of its many nosedives. With the state near bankruptcy, state workers didn't get raises, sometimes not even paychecks. For months and months, the Moore administration even withheld their personal tax returns.
In 1988, when Moore ran for a fourth term, his own political blunders undid him as much as the $4 million campaign political newcomer, Gaston Caperton, an insurance executive from Beckley.
Some say the 1988 race was yet another painful reminder for Moore about the wealth he didn't have in a state where the political boss system no longer was enough. To run the expensive television campaigns that came to dominate politics, he needed money, not just connections.
In the end, he said, Arch Moore merely became a greedy man who could see the days ahead when he had neither political power - nor money.
"The cunning sharp politician gave way to the aging desperate man," he said. "And this time, he couldn't quite see, they were going to get him."
by CNB