The Law, Or Something Like It

The biggest news story in Texas in the fall of 1977 was arguably the trial of Cullen Davis, accused of murdering his stepdaughter.  It was made up of the stuff that goes into a big Texas story—lots of oil money, a high-profile divorce, Fort Worth society (at a decidedly low ebb), sex and just the right amount of sordidness.  The tawdry messiness of it inevitably became a TV movie years later, although Peter Strauss as Cullen Davis and Heather Locklear playing his wife, Priscilla Davis, added a Hollywood luster that their real-life counterparts clearly lacked.

Books have been written on the subject, but it rather boiled down to this:  Priscilla’s daughter and live-in lover were killed by an assailant identified by Priscilla and two unfortunate family friends who happened to drive up in the middle of the shooting as being Cullen Davis.

On a weekend home from college, Mother and I were feasting on the gossip coming out of the trial as well as Sunday dinner, convinced that Cullen Davis would be found guilty of the murder based on the testimony of the three eyewitnesses.  Daddy said Davis would be found not guilty.  He said something like, “No oil man who has as much money as Cullen Davis does is going to be convicted of anything in Texas.” Daddy was right.

From that point forward, the idea that no one is above the law seemed something of a quaint notion to me.  The notion would get trotted out from time to time—think O. J. Simpson—only to be shown once again that some folks in certain circumstances are above the law, even in highly publicized cases.  

Of course, I don’t think that the “above the law” thing has been asserted as much and by so many as following the multiple indictments of Donald Trump last year.  Time went on, months dragged by, and multiple delays were allowed by or caused by judges Trump himself appointed.  Now, the Federal charges have been dropped for all intents and purposes, the sentencing on the New York charges for which Trump was convicted has been indefinitely postponed, and Trump’s attorneys moved this week to have a Georgia appeals court dismiss the charges against him there.     

So much for that above-the-law business. Unless you want to talk about Hunter Biden.  I don’t, but I will.

Mr. Biden’s pardon has been correctly described by the Associated Press as “sweeping.”  It covers an eleven-year period and any crimes that Hunter Biden “has committed or may have committed or taken part in” from 2014 to 2024.  Ford’s pardon for Richard Nixon in 1974 covered less than that.

The Constitution gives extreme power to the president in many things, particularly when it comes to pardons.  With that power, Joe Biden placed his son above the law.  Just like his money and resources have allowed Trump to position himself above it.  Or Cullen Davis, or pick the next one down the list.

I heard some groans this week that kind of amused me.  But Biden promised he wouldn’t pardon Hunter. But Biden, but Biden.  Please, Louise, does anyone think Joe Biden is the first father to use his privilege to keep his boy out of jail?  I can think of a couple of hometown cases without much effort, and many of you can, too.

But, but, but that’s not how the rule of law is supposed to work.  Rule of law, spool of law.  What are we?  Babes in Toyland?  

Besides, some say, the prosecution of Hunter Biden was politically motivated.  Well, so were the prosecutions of Donald Trump is the quick retort.  Politically motivated uses of lawful criminal proceedings?  Here?  In America?  Surely, you jest.  One need not be the son of a sitting president or a former president to be the target of a politically motivated prosecution.  Prosecutors getting advancement through the successful achievement of a guilty verdict in a high profile case—that doesn’t ever happen here, does it?  

As it says in the book of Ecclesiastes 1:9 (and not by Shakespeare), “There is no new thing under the sun.”  Or here in the United States, for sure.

If Trump does what he said he would do if returned to the White House—knowing that he doesn’t always follow through—there could be a whole rash of controversial pardons coming down the pike.  He might even give some of the recipients a job in his administration.  Charles Kusher was pardoned by Trump in December 2020, and Trump has picked him to be ambassador to France.  Just keeping it all in the family.

So stay tuned.  The circus train hasn’t even rolled up to the station yet.