As the slow drip of revelations continued, public outrage boiled over. Over the next two years, prosecutors, congressional investigators, and journalists untangled a conspiracy involving a clandestine sabotage campaign against Democrats, hush-hush cash drops for CREEP surrogates in phone booths, and millions in illegal corporate contributions. Hugh Sloan, CREEP’s treasurer, later described an “avalanche” of cash pouring into the group’s coffers-all of it secret.Īt least it was secret until some of that Mexican money ended up in the bank account of a one-time CIA operative named Bernard Barker, one of the five men whose bungled burglary at the Democratic National Committee headquarters in the Watergate complex lit the fuse on the biggest political scandal in modern American history. Clement Stone alone gave $2.1 million, or $11.4 million in today’s dollars. A handful of wealthy donors accounted for nearly half of that haul insurance tycoon W. It was the last gasp of a two-month fund-raising blitz during which CREEP raked in some $20 million before the new disclosure law took effect. They touched down in DC hours later and sped directly to CREEP’s office at 1701 Pennsylvania Avenue NW, across the street from the White House.
The two men climbed aboard, bound for Washington. Winchester and another Pennzoil man rushed the suitcase to the Houston airport, where a company jet was waiting on the tarmac. Allen-fearing his shareholders would discover that he’d given six figures to Nixon-had funneled it through a Mexico City bank to Díaz de León, head of Gulf Resources’ Mexican subsidiary, who carried the loot over the border. The donation was from Robert Allen, president of Gulf Resources and Chemical Company. Liedtke said he’d deliver.ĭíaz de León finally arrived later that afternoon, emptying a large pouch containing $89,000 in checks and $11,000 in cash onto Liedtke’s desk. Maurice Stans, finance chair of the Committee for the Re-Election of the President, or CREEP, had told fundraisers they needed to beat that deadline. The Nixon campaign wanted the money before Friday, when a new law kicked in requiring that federal campaigns disclose their donors. When it arrived, Liedtke (pronounced LIT-key) would stuff it into the suitcase with the rest of the cash and checks, bringing the total to $700,000. Liedtke, a former Texas wildcatter who’d risen to be Pennzoil’s president, and Roy Winchester, the firm’s PR man, waited anxiously for $100,000 due to be hand-delivered by a Mexican businessman named José Díaz de León.
BUCKLEY SUPREME COURTSHIP BORDER MINES WINDOWS
Warm afternoon light bathed the windows at Pennzoil Company headquarters in downtown Houston. He’d prepared everything-suitcase stuffed with cash, jet fueled up, pilot standing by. His deadline was a little more than a day away. NIXONLANDīill Liedtke was racing against time. The first is money and I can’t remember what the second one is.“- Mark Hanna, 19th-century mining tycoon and GOP fundraiser I. “ There are two things that are important in politics.
BUCKLEY SUPREME COURTSHIP BORDER MINES FREE
Fight disinformation: Sign up for the free Mother Jones Daily newsletter and follow the news that matters.
0 kommentar(er)
