‘Poof,’ Went the Smoking Gun--but the Fear Was Real

Several weeks ago, a woman who looked to be in her late 50s or early 60s sat in her living room, having grown fearful overnight. She lived in a well-kept home in a North County city and had agreed the night before to talk about her role in the ongoing investigation of “fraud” surrounding last November’s Bob Dornan-Loretta Sanchez congressional race.

By the cold light of dawn, however, she was waffling. She was afraid, her son said, about being considered a felon. A housekeeper and U.S. resident for many years, she was one of the people who had voted in the Dornan-Sanchez race after passing U.S. citizenship classes but before being sworn in as a citizen. Certain at the time that she was eligible, she came to fear in the post-election fallout of fraud allegations that she’d been wrong.

In essence, her son said that morning, why should his mother risk being identified through the newspaper? Within minutes, mother and son ended the interview before it began.

The memory of that woman returns today in light of disclosures that no charges are expected in the yearlong investigation into voter registrations conducted by the Latino rights group Hermandad Mexicana Nacional.

For a year, we’ve heard from state and national Republican Party leaders that “fraud” abounded in the 46th Congressional District. Can you have fraud without someone committing it?

The smoking gun has been fired and a little white flag with “Poof” on it has come out.

Every time I’ve written on this subject, I’ve said the same thing. It’s obvious that noncitizens, like the housekeeper I met, voted in the 46th. That isn’t proper and shouldn’t be ignored. Whatever allowed it to happen should be fixed.

The magic word these last 13 months, though, has been fraud. At a point in the county’s history when Latino immigrants, legal and illegal, increasingly reside here, allegations of “voter fraud” had an especially inflammatory sound. I resent illegal voting, but my question--especially after hearing passionate denials from local Latino leaders--was whether the illegal votes were classic fraud or, as they contended, misinterpretations of voter-eligibility laws.

To some, such technicalities don’t matter. To them, the law is the law and violators should be punished. These are people who in their own lives never jaywalk or drive over 55 mph.

Those people should now ask themselves who the real frauds are.

Getting a grand jury indictment usually is no tougher than sticking your hand in a beehive and getting stung. The prosecutors present their case, and the targets aren’t allowed to mount a defense. In short, if you can’t get an indictment, you never had much of a case.

So, what’s the housekeeper got to do with all this?

Fear, that’s what. Unable to get her to open up, I talked to a local doctor who had employed her for more than 10 years. He had encouraged her to vote in 1996, believing that her passing the citizenship test was tantamount to voter eligibility. In addition, he was miffed because a letter from the Immigration and Naturalization Service--dated well in advance of election day--congratulated her and said it would follow up with information about swearing-in ceremonies. It never did, the doctor said.

I asked the doctor, who is white, how he felt about the voter-fraud investigation. “It’s a political issue, pure and simple,” he said. “If there is political pressure to block these people [from being sworn in], I resent it deeply and I’m concerned about that. What is really going on? She’s an ideal citizen. If they take anybody as a citizen, she’d be the first one they should take.”

The doctor, who agreed to speak on the record but whom I’m keeping anonymous in fairness to the housekeeper, said the woman had been a legal resident on green-card status. For various reasons, the doctor said, the woman decided finally last year to apply for citizenship.

“Before the election, we were talking about issues at the dinner table and I asked her about her voting situation,” he said. “She said she could vote, and I didn’t pay attention to details of the swearing-in. She said she had taken the [citizenship] test, passed it and it was just a matter of the formality of the swearing-in. I wasn’t fully aware of the fact that she was not a citizen until she was sworn in. I have a little sense of guilt that we didn’t check it out thoroughly.”

Dist. Atty. Michael R. Capizzi all but said months ago that the people who in good faith voted illegally wouldn’t be targets of criminal prosecutions. He indicated, instead, that the probe would focus on anyone who intentionally misled ineligible voters to cast ballots. As it turns out, the grand jury apparently wasn’t convinced that even that level of fraud was committed.

This whole thing has been a political war, and war takes hostages. One of them was the housekeeper, still fearful months after the fact that just talking to me might land her in jail. I doubt those who pushed this investigation will lose much sleep over that.

I asked the doctor if he’s sure his housekeeper thought she was a legal voter. “I guarantee you that,” he said. “She had no doubt about it. As a matter of fact, that’s why I was so sure, because she was so sure.”

Dana Parsons’ column appears Wednesday, Friday and Sunday. Readers may reach Parsons by calling (714) 966-7821 or by writing to him at the Times Orange County Edition, 1375 Sunflower Ave., Costa Mesa, CA 92626, or by e-mail to dana.parsons@latimes.com