Ex-Assemblyman, Jailed in Federal Probe, to Run Prison Reform Group

As a rising Republican star, Pat Nolan was regarded by his supporters as a sure-fire bet to attract national political attention, if not as California’s attorney general or governor, then in high office in Washington.

In 1994, the dreams of his family and friends were shattered when the glib, onetime Assembly GOP leader pleaded guilty to a single racketeering charge as part of a massive FBI investigation into political corruption at the Capitol.

But Nolan is still heading to Washington, hoping to pick up the pieces of his life as the leader of a prison reform group.

In his first interview since he entered prison, Nolan said he and his family are leaving the state so he can accept the presidency of Justice Fellowship. The fellowship is a subsidiary of a group started by another discredited political leader, ex-White House aide Charles W. “Chuck” Colson of Watergate fame.

“It is literally a godsend for me and my family,” said Nolan, who in April was released from a federal prison to a Sacramento halfway house. Today, his confinement is scheduled to end and Nolan will begin three years on probation, a spokesman for the federal Bureau of Prisons said.

Colson, who spent seven months in prison for obstructing justice, was on vacation and could not be reached for comment.

In a prepared statement, Colson, who started Prison Fellowship Ministries 20 years ago, said he is thrilled to have the native Californian and former Glendale lawmaker join his organization, effective Oct. 1.

He noted that Nolan “had practical experience in politics and in prison, is a proven leader and a growing Christian disciple. Pat will be a powerful voice for biblical justice around America.”

Even before he assumes his job, Nolan, a staunch political conservative, is urging changes in the way that nonviolent prisoners like himself are incarcerated.

“We lock up all sorts of people who are no threat to anybody,” Nolan said, “and one of the thrusts of Colson’s work . . . is to say the purpose of prison is to incapacitate someone who is a physical threat to us. If there’s not a physical threat, there are a lot of other ways to punish them.”

Preventing prisoners from supporting their own families, however, “doesn’t make a lot of sense,” Nolan said.

During an interview last week, Nolan, 46, focused on his wife and three small children and the hardships that they endured during his incarceration, especially the difficulty flying to visit him in prison in Spokane, Wash.

Nolan repeatedly brushed aside questions about his own case, asserting that he did nothing wrong and that he was the victim of aggressive federal prosecutors. Nolan said he is writing a book about such prosecutions.

While he remains a strong defender of local police, Nolan reserved his most stinging criticism for federal authorities. He said his own case “opened my eyes” to some of their tactics.

“At first I thought I was the victim of some rogue cops. . . . Now, I see that there is a pattern of abuse that runs through a substantial number of federal prosecutions.”

U.S. Atty. Charles J. Stevens, who signed off on Nolan’s plea bargain, was unavailable for comment. Previously, he defended Nolan’s prosecution, saying he had hoped that Nolan’s imprisonment would serve as a warning to other lawmakers.

Released in April from the federal prison in Spokane, Nolan lived at a 62-bed halfway house not far from the Capitol until about a month ago, when he was allowed to go back to his suburban Sacramento home.

In recent weeks, he’s been spotted near the Capitol, now with a touch of gray and cutting a decidedly less burly figure than in his days as a lawmaker.

Nolan, first elected in 1978, was interviewed in a tiny office where he works for the minimum wage doing legal research for one of the attorneys who helped hammer out his plea bargain with federal prosecutors. He was surrounded by packing boxes and photos of his family, including one that read “World’s Greatest Dad.”

Starting in the mid-1980s, federal authorities conducted a wide-ranging probe of corruption in state government that led to the conviction of 14 people, including five legislators.

All the lawmakers were given federal jury trials except Nolan, who pleaded guilty to a reduced charge of racketeering and received a 33-month sentence.

In a sworn statement, Nolan described conducting his Assembly office as “a racketeering enterprise” to extort campaign contributions from those who sought his support on legislation.

Among other things, Nolan admitted accepting two $5,000 checks from undercover FBI agents who were posing as Southern businessmen as part of an elaborate federal sting operation. The agents were seeking Nolan’s support for a bill that would help their bogus company build a shrimp processing plant near Sacramento.

Nolan complained that the government never spelled out what he had done to warrant prosecution, pointing out that he had voted for similar legislation before he ever received any money from the undercover agents.

As an inmate, Nolan said he had to put up with high-fat food and menial jobs such as picking up trash and cleaning toilets. But there was a silver lining.

Nolan said he was able to join a church choir, study the Bible and read other books, including some of Colson’s.

The ex-lawmaker met Colson about a year ago, when a prison chaplain brought a group of inmates to hear a talk by the former White House aide.

Later, Nolan said, he was approached by Justice Fellowship about his new job.

The once ambitious Nolan said he doesn’t miss his old job. He realizes that if he were still in the Legislature, he would not have as much time to spend with his family.

“In that sense, this experience has been a blessing, because I will now play a larger role in their lives as they grow up,” Nolan said in a letter being mailed to friends. “My work in the Legislature was interesting, but I prefer playing an active role in my children’s lives.”