Once high-flying Triple J is losing altitude

Once high-flying Triple J is losing altitude
BY LAURA WASHINGTON
Copyright by The Chicago Sun-Times
April 20, 2009
http://www.suntimes.com/news/washington/1534281,CST-EDT-laura20.article


Triple J is in double trouble. Six months ago, everything was copacetic. Or at least it appeared to be. U.S. Rep. Jesse Jackson Jr., a political big hitter and early backer of Barack Obama, was traversing the nation as a campaign co-chairman to tout his good friend, the presidential aspirant.
Jackson blasted into Congress on the heels of his name and family history, but deployed his smarts and ambition into real influence. He helped a long string of independent political operators win an array of city and state offices, among them state Sen. James Meeks, Illinois Appellate Court Judge Joy Cunningham, Aldermen Anthony Beale (9th), Robert Fioretti (2nd), Pat Dowell (3rd), and his wife, Sandi Jackson of the 8th Ward.

Jackson boasts bringing tens of millions in juicy pork to Illinois' Second Congressional District, on the South Side and south suburbs. His unflinching advocacy for a third airport in Peotone drew national attention and a recent $100 million green light from Gov. Quinn.

He has challenged, and inevitably alienated, established pols like former state Senate President Emil Jones, U.S. Rep. Bobby Rush and Cook County Commissioner William Beavers.

From Washington, D.C., to Hollywood, Jackson crafted a national network that exploits sophisticated and high tech money-raising and polling techniques. He was raising major moolah on the Internet before many of his congressional colleagues knew how to Google.

All that sway, his relative youth and future potential added up to the makings of a Big Macher.

Six months ago, a "Jackson" name plate on a U.S. Senate seat seemed a real possibility. Obama was barreling toward the White House, and Jackson seemed a logical replacement, especially since The Decider is a man who has cravenly wooed the black vote.

No one knew that better than Jackson, who frenetically campaigned for the Rod Blagojevich appointment --right up to the cusp of the former governor's arrest for allegedly peddling the seat. Jackson was hitting up every man, woman and light pole to tout his credentials for the job. On Dec. 8, he was blabbing to The Decider himself. On Dec. 9, the roof fell in. Jackson may have talked too much.

Now the headlines are getting ugly. Now the mouths at the Dirksen Federal Building are spilling salacious, off-the-record but damning details. Political "friends" of the Jackson family are allegedly chatting up investigators, about pay-to-play and quid pro quo.

Now Jackson is uncharacteristically, painfully mum. It must be killing him.

He can't utter a word as his reputation twists, oh, so slowly, and interminably, in the winds of suspicion. His once-dazzling political career is in jeopardy, and with it, much promise of African Americans and independents who know that "Obama" is not the last word for change.

What's worse, the politicians who got career boosts courtesy of Jackson also have lost their tongues. Virtually no one is speaking out on his behalf. There's grease in the skillet, and the pan is popping. It's frying time. In politics, loyalty is cheaper than a Bernie Madoff "guaranteed return."

That's a loss. Like the Daleys, Madigans and Cullertons, the Jacksons are Illinois political royalty, for better or worse. Right now, the Jackson pedigree still has value. Right now, Jesse Jackson Jr. is the only African American who could credibly mount an independent challenge to the old-time gamers at City Hall and beyond. Peek beneath the stain of Blago, and you will still discern the credentials of a pragmatic, effective coalition builder.

Will the legacy continue? On May 21, a committee of supporters of Ald. Sandi Jackson is hosting a D.C. fund-raiser. The invitation requests support for Jackson's "7th Ward Stop the Violence Campaign," and exhorts: "It's Time for a New Direction."

Triple J's name is notably absent.