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STEVE CORBETT
Thursday, November 30, 2000 Page: 13A
Pound for pound, Luzerne County is as wild and woolly as the pushy
political conspiracy currently spewing in Florida. Send our local team south
to the big leagues and we’ll have a president in a couple of hours.
Probably a Kennedy.
So, while America waits for a decision in what could turn into a bona fide
constitutional crisis, we solve our home-grown problems in a jiffy.
We’re also far scrappier than the prim gaggle of Republican and Democrat
lawyers in whose hands our national butt now finds itself.
On Tuesday, Luzerne County Prothonotary Carolee Medico took the witness
stand to cry foul and throw herself at the mercy of the court. On Wednesday,
she brushed herself off and went back to work – beaten but not bowed.
Watch her, though. The woman carries a grudge.
Medico wanted the court to force the county to pay for extensive office
items that she deems necessary to do her job. George Bush paid more attention
to the recent boil on his face than Democratic commissioners commonly accord
to Republican Medico.
So, in the great tradition of American freedom to sue, sue and sue some
more, Medico petitioned the court.
Woe is her.
Bedecked in his black robe, Judge Peter Paul Olszewski Jr. swooped into the
great hall like Batman hot on the Joker’s trail.
Olszewski loves being a judge.
And, pity the man or woman who crosses his judicial path without a
well-thumbed copy of Purdon’s Pennsylvania Statutes within easy reach.
Olszewski is a stickler for legalisms. Arriving at the courthouse at 5 a.m.
Tuesday, as he did regularly during his years as district attorney, Olszewski
emerged from his chambers with the fixed glare of a man who hadn’t yet bagged
a deer this season and really needed one.
Case goes to its just reward
But, Sam Stretton, the county solicitor Medico hand-picked to do the
people’s business, had left his book at home. Because of this blunder,
Stretton might not have had a day like this in his entire career. Olszewski
did everything but run the Batmobile back and forth over the poor fellow,
leaving tread marks all over the seat of his suit pants.
(Get it? Suit pants? For a lawyer?)
But, Stretton took the chastisement like a lawyer, politely biting his
tongue until he could one day retaliate in an appeals court somewhere, someday
somehow.
Lawyers don’t get mad. They get litigious. That’s why they’re lawyers. On
the bench or off, they’re a feisty band of fidgety fiends intent on taking
sides.
We hate them, of course, until we need one.
For Medico’s day in court, though, not only lawyers packed the room. In
addition to Medico, Olszewski, Stretton and the county solicitor, all three
county commissioners, the county public relations officer, the county sheriff
and a couple of well-paid appointed public servants assembled between doors
guarded by armed deputies.
At one point, Olszewski became incredulous at Stretton’s arguments.
“Certainly you aren’t comparing your client to a member of the judiciary,
are you?”
Silly lawyer.
Stretton, getting the drift by now, kowtowed to the court.
The next morning Olszewski threw Medico’s claims out of court. Calling the
case a political disagreement about county government, Olszewski essentially
told the kids to fight nice.
If only picking a president was so easy.
Call Corbett at 829-7215 or e-mail [email protected].