The remarkable fall of Allen Loughry will end with the raw sound of a prison door being locked. The brilliant attorney who ran a successful long shot campaign for the state Supreme Court and quickly rose to Chief Justice is now headed to federal prison for two years.
U.S. District Court Judge John Copenhaver sentenced Loughry Wednesday following his conviction on ten felonies (the jury convicted him of 11, but Copenhaver threw out one of them).
At first blush, Loughry’s offenses appear picayune. He used a state vehicle for private trips, used a state gas card and sought reimbursement for his expenses, and moved an antique Cass Gilbert desk to his home for personal use.
However, when investigators started looking into the court’s spending practices—ironically encouraged to do so by the justice—Loughry then lied and covered up, triggering even more serious charges against him.
The public’s trust in the state’s highest court was severely damaged by Loughry, as well as by former Justice Menis Ketchum’s private use of a state car and gas card, and the outrageous spending on office remodeling by all the justices.
Copenhaver, the venerable and deliberate judge that he is, made special note during sentencing of how Loughry’s behavior has impacted the judiciary. He said the scandal has “contributed mightily” to the loss of trust in the court.
Under the complicated sentencing guidelines, Loughry faced 10 to 16 months in prison and Loughry’s attorney asked for probation. However, Copenhaver used his discretion to bump up the sentence to 24 months, three years probation after release and a $10,000 fine.
Loughry’s ordeal has gone on for nearly a year-and-a-half. There has been an investigation, a trial and, early on, Loughry even granted media interviews. But one thing has always been missing—any willingness by Loughry to accept responsibility for his actions.
Initially, Loughry blamed others for the profligate spending by the court and, as we now know, lied about his knowledge of the $32,000 couch and the $7,500 inlaid wooden floor in his office. Then he lied to investigators.
Given the evidence, the jury’s verdict and the potential willingness of the sentencing judge to give him the benefit of the doubt, Loughry could not bring himself to acknowledge his wrongdoing. “I’m fully aware of the seriousness of the matter,” was as far as he would go.
That did not go unnoticed by Copenhaver, who pointed out that he had “not seen remorse” from Loughry. The judge added that he hoped someday Loughry would “come to grips with what brought you here today.”
Loughry famously wrote THE book on public corruption in West Virginia: “Don’t Buy Another Vote, I Won’t Pay for a Landslide: The Sordid and Continuing History of Political Corruption in West Virginia.” He details how political scofflaws have undermined public trust in government and held West Virginia back.
The introduction of that book was tragically prophetic: “Candidates and those already elected to public office should read carefully the information contained throughout this book and keep in mind that many well-meaning individuals began their political careers with the best of intentions. Many started out determined to remain honest and fight a long history of political corruption only to find themselves years later receiving the same negative headlines that originally caused them to enter public service,” Loughry wrote.
It turns out that part of Loughry’s book was autobiographical. He didn’t know it then, and given his unwillingness to accept responsibility and express some remorse for his actions, he still doesn’t have a clue.