Sentencing for ex-Ald. Edward Burke offers referendum on Chicago’s old-school corruption
After a lifetime of backroom wheeling and dealing, former Chicago Ald. Edward Burke faces the most consequential negotiation of his life on Monday — and in the most public of places.
In a federal courtroom on the 25th floor of the Dirksen U.S. Courthouse, Burke, the longtime Democratic machine stalwart who dominated the City Council for most of his 54 years as an alderman, will be sentenced in a corruption case that rocked city politics and tanked Burke’s extraordinary career as a lawyer and elected official.
The sentencing hearing is among the most anticipated proceedings in years in Chicago’s federal court, a building that has seen countless politicians, both Republicans and Democrats, handed prison terms, a veritable parade of alderpersons, county commissioners, state representatives, senators, governors and even a former speaker of the U.S. House.
Former Ald. Ed Burke to learn fate as sentencing in corruption case gets underway
But perhaps none wielded so much power for so long as Burke, the head of the vaunted Finance Committee who not only worked the city’s purse strings but also was a shrewd ward boss, political tactician and judicial slate-maker.
Those factors make Burke’s sentencing a significant referendum on Chicago’s nationally recognized brand of old-school corruption.
After a last-ditch effort by Burke’s legal team to postpone the sentencing was denied Friday, the stage is set for a legal spectacle that hasn’t occurred since ex-Gov. Rod Blagojevich was sentenced to 14 years in prison in December 2011.
To accommodate what’s expected to be a horde of media, friends and relatives of Burke, and curious onlookers, two overflow courtrooms will be set up at the courthouse at 219 S. Dearborn St. with a live video feed for those who can’t get into U.S. District Judge Virginia Kendall’s main courtroom.
It’s unclear whether any live witnesses will be called, but last week, the judge disclosed that members of the public had been reaching out to her office directly asking to speak at the hearing.
Kendall has a wide range of options when it comes to fashioning a punishment for Burke, who turned 80 just days after he was convicted in December of racketeering conspiracy for using the powers of his elected office to try to squeeze developers to hire his private law firm.
Prosecutors have asked for 10 years in prison, saying Burke’s schemes, many of which were captured on undercover wiretapped recordings, show he was no novice when it came to graft, but a savvy and sophisticated professional when it came to identifying his marks.
Burke’s legal team, meanwhile, has asked for an alternative to prison such as home confinement, arguing he’s in ill health and that his lapses do not erase the life of a “fundamentally decent man” who did a lot of good for his city over a six-decade career.
After attorneys make their arguments, all eyes will be on Burke, who will have an opportunity to speak to the judge directly. He’s not required to do so, and judges typically assure defendants they will not hold their silence against them.
If Burke does choose to speak, the notably loquacious parliamentarian might be forced to walk a fine line, apologizing but perhaps stopping short of admitting guilt, as he’s expected to appeal his conviction to a higher court.
Kendall cleared the case for sentencing in a 47-page ruling late Friday denying Burke’s requests for a new trial or outright acquittal on key counts, acknowledging Burke’s “storied career in Chicago politics” but standing solidly behind the verdicts.
In fact, it is the context of Burke’s powerful political career that provides support for jurors’ verdicts on some of the counts, Kendall wrote, such as the guilty findings related to his tempestuous exchanges with Field Museum officials.
“Those same words spoken by a layperson could possibly constitute blowing off steam. But spoken by the longest-serving alderman and Chairman of the Committee on Finance during a phone call seeking acquiescence for their pending fee increase — that he had previously opposed — means the implications and consequences are night and day,” Kendall wrote.
“That is to say, a jury could reasonably conclude that Burke knew what he was doing and how his words affected (the museum officials), who ultimately kowtowed to Burke’s threats.”
The sentence requested by the U.S. attorney’s office would mean that Burke could very well die in prison. But a lengthy term behind bars is warranted, prosecutors say, given the “mountain” of evidence in the case — including hundreds of undercover recordings — that captured Burke in his own words and make it “obvious that Burke was no novice when it came to corruption.”
“Burke operated as a seasoned professional when it came to identifying new potential clients for his law firm and exploiting his power and position in order to secure their business,” prosecutors wrote in a recent court filing asking for 121 months behind bars.
To bolster their argument about the cost of Burke’s crimes, prosecutors estimated the overall financial loss he caused amounted to nearly $830,000.
Lawyers for Burke, meanwhile, argued the trial evidence showed Burke “did not receive a single penny” from his offenses, “nor did he cause any serious financial harm to any party.” Even the witnesses who were allegedly being shaken down testified Burke’s demeanor was “respectful, professional, and friendly — never aggressive, threatening, nor intimidating,” Burke’s filing stated.
They also have submitted an avalanche of character letters from friends, family and clergy, as well as current and former politicians, judges and others in the legal community.
Among the letter writers were former U.S. Attorney Dan Webb, ex-Chicago police Superintendent Garry McCarthy and retired federal Judge William Bauer, who served on the 7th Circuit U.S. Court of Appeals.
There were also pleas of mercy from failed mayoral candidate Paul Vallas, and current and former City Council colleagues such as Ald. Nicholas Sposato, 38th, former Ald. Patrick O’Connor, 40th, and ex-Ald. Roderick Sawyer, 6th, whose father, Eugene Sawyer, was elevated to the mayor’s office with key help from Burke after Mayor Harold Washington’s sudden death.
Burke’s wife, Anne, formerly the chief justice of the Illinois Supreme Court, described Burke as a devoted husband and father who encouraged her to finish college and go to law school. He also helped “a hundred or more” struggling city kids with tuition and jobs, she wrote.
“He has always seen his role as taking care of people, whether they need money, or a job, or help fighting insurance companies,” she wrote. “I am devastated by the prospect that I will not be with Ed at the end of our lives. Please find compassion through the Holy Spirit in your decision.”
And Webb, a high-profile litigator who defended former Illinois Gov. George Ryan, said he has been personal friends with the Burke family for 40 years and urged the judge to “evaluate the totality of the person being sentenced.”
“At no time did I ever see any indication that he was other than a dedicated public servant, always interested in serving the citizens of the city of Chicago,” Webb wrote.
A jury in December found Burke, the longtime leader of the Finance Committee, guilty of a series of schemes to use his considerable City Hall clout to try and win business from developers for his private property tax law firm.
Among them were efforts to woo the New York-based developers of the $600 million renovation of the Old Post Office, extorting the Texas owners of a Burger King who were seeking to renovate a restaurant in Burke’s 14th Ward, and intervening on behalf of Charles Cui, a developer in Portage Park who wanted help getting a pole sign approved for a new Binny’s Beverage Depot location.
Burke was also found guilty of attempted extortion for threatening to hold up a fee increase for the Field Museum because he was angry the museum had ignored an internship application from his goddaughter, who is the daughter of former 32nd Ward Ald. Terry Gabinski, Burke’s longtime friend.
The jury acquitted Burke on one count of conspiracy to commit extortion related to the Burger King project.
Also convicted was Cui, whose sentencing is set for next month.
The jury acquitted Burke’s longtime 14th Ward aide, Peter Andrews, of all counts alleging he helped Burke pressure the Burger King owners into hiring Burke’s law firm by shutting down their restaurant renovation.
Burke’s high-profile, six-week trial featured some 38 witnesses and more than 100 secretly recorded videos and wiretapped recordings, offering a fascinating behind-the-scenes look at one of Chicago’s top political power brokers at work.
At the heart of the case were dozens of wiretapped phone calls and secretly recorded meetings made by Daniel Solis, the former 25th Ward alderman who turned FBI mole after being confronted in 2016 with his own wrongdoing.
In closing arguments, prosecutors put up on large video screens a series of now-notorious statements made by Burke on the recordings. Among them: “The cash register has not rung yet,” “They can go (expletive) themselves,” and “Did we land the tuna?”
Regardless of what Burke’s final sentence is, Monday’s hearing will provide a coda to the downfall of a political titan.
Burke was one of the last avatars of the old Chicago machine, the son of an alderman and Democratic ward boss who took over those roles after his father, Joseph, died of lung cancer.
He stayed alderman for more than five decades, accumulating power as the head of the Finance Committee and making a name for himself during the vicious “Council Wars” of the 1980s, when he and fellow now-convicted Ald. Eddie Vrdolyak pushed against Washington, Chicago’s first Black mayor, at virtually every turn.
His ambitions to higher office — mayor, Cook County Board president, state’s attorney, Congress — repeatedly fell short. So he settled in as a City Council stalwart, meticulously dressed in pinstripes and pocket squares, holding forth about Chicago history to anyone who would listen and displaying deep knowledge of procedural minutiae.
Along the way, he became something of a judicial kingmaker, wielding enormous influence over which hopeful attorneys would be slated for the bench.
Among them was his wife, Anne, whom he supported through law school and ultimately made her way to chief justice of the state Supreme Court. Anne Burke, now retired from the bench, sat in the front row of the courtroom every day of her husband’s trial.
Burke’s success in politics ran parallel to his success as a property tax lawyer, and his potential ethical lapses drew scrutiny for years. Among them: He admitted to voting on legislation affecting Midway Airport while his firm worked for the airport’s main tenant at the time, Midway Airlines; he earned six-figure legal fees from a developer whom Burke worked for behind the scenes and who got a $1.2 million subsidy from City Hall; and he once got fined $2,000 by the City Board of Ethics for using “improper influence” in helping a tax client.
But it wasn’t until November 2018, when raiding federal agents put butcher paper over the windows of his City Hall suite, that the criminal consequences became concrete.
A criminal charge of attempted extortion was unsealed just weeks later, in January 2019. While Burke stepped down as Finance Committee chairman, he still easily won reelection in February of that year.
But as the case moved forward, he faced more charges, lost his ward committeeman post, saw his ward’s boundaries change, and chose not to run for reelection.
As alderman, Burke famously quipped that in Chicago, there were only three ways to leave office, “The ballot box, the jury box or the pine box.”
In the end, Burke may have stepped down of his own accord. But the jury had its say anyway.
And now, on Monday, it’s the judge’s turn.
