Tyrone Brooks and the way Atlanta once worked

Prosecutors allege that, through “an elaborate ruse” involving a sham charity, a fake board of directors and a secret bank account, Brooks funneled more than $1 million to himself and his family over a 22-year period.

Brooks’ courtroom defenders, who include former Gov. Roy Barnes, say the alleged scheme was no more than the inept fumblings of a man who never rose above “subsistence living” and knew more about street protests than handling money.

What remains of an Old Guard has lined up behind Brooks. Former U.N. ambassador Andrew Young testified Wednesday. Others have done so by mail, including the Rev. Joseph Lowery. Another former governor, Zell Miller, spoke of working with Brooks to put more black judges on Georgia benches.

“In all that time, he did not ask for anything for himself,” Miller wrote.

From the bench, U.S. District Court Judge Amy Totenberg has acknowledged the strangeness of the proceedings. “I’m still trying to get my head around it,” she said Tuesday. Prosecutors are asking for a two-year sentence. Brooks’ attorneys are pushing for probation. Days of testimony have been devoted to bridging that 24-month gap – something that rarely happens even when decades in a federal penitentiary hang in the balance.

In that testimony have been traces of a crucial period in Georgia’s past, when white corporate boardrooms quietly established social, political, and financial connections with a generation of African-American leaders springing out of the Civil Rights movement.

There is a line in Brooks’ defense filings that speaks of a kind historical inertia at work, of tacit understandings that may have been out of date, but were still in place.

“None of the donors insisted upon deliverables, specific results, or a detailed justification for the money given. There was no oversight or follow through on the part of donors to insist that the money be directly applied to specific, earmarked purposes,” according to the filing. “[T]he donors never complained or questioned that Mr. Brooks was doing valuable civil rights work, which he was.”

Roger Johnson, director of community partnerships at Coca Cola, testified that Brooks’ relationship with Coke existed long before he came to the company. The Atlanta lawmaker could call his boss directly, without going through a secretary.

Things became more formal when Coke stopped accepting donation requests on paper. An online application process was how Coke learned in 2011 that Universal Humanities – the shell charity set up by Brooks — had lost its tax-exempt status.

But even then, the money kept flowing. Johnson’s boss at Coke decided a donation for Brooks’ efforts would be made to a non-profit headed by Joe Beasley, another civil rights veteran. Beasley forwarded the money to Brooks.

State Rep. Calvin Smyre, D-Columbus, was called to the witness stand late Tuesday afternoon by prosecutors. A 41-year veteran of the state Capitol, Smyre is a retired executive vice president for Synovus Financial.

Smyre and Brooks’ hands were on the same rope at the Capitol when the pair pulled down the state’s 1956-era state flag, with its Confederate battle emblem, for the last time in 2001. That was under the leadership of the governor who is now serving as Brooks’ defense attorney.

But in the late 1970s, Smyre was one of the first presidents of the Georgia Association of Black Elected Officials, an attempt to unify the new crop of county, city and state officials. Smyre’s employer established the Synovus Foundation, which adopted GABEO as a favorite charity, paying for conferences and other gatherings. That’s how things worked.

But as African-Americans became an established part of Georgia’s political structure, that kind of cash began flowing elsewhere. By the time Brooks inherited the presidency of GABEO, the organization was long past the peak of its influence, and perpetually struggling.

Even so, prosecutors say Brooks set up a secret GABEO bank account for his own use.

Smyre said he has made several donations of $250 or so to GABEO over the last few years. A prosecutor asked him if Brooks had told him the money would be going to cover personal expenses.

“No he did not,” Smyre said.

Roy Barnes followed up. “If Tyrone Brooks had come up to you and said I need a little pocket money, you would have given him the money?” the former governor asked.

“No question,” Smyre said.

“You know that cars don’t run without gasoline. If you knew he spent every penny on himself, would you ask for it back?” Barnes asked.

Smyre said no.

As a civil rights activist, the legislative veteran put Brooks “at the top of the list.”

But it was not a universal opinion. Smyre was preceded by state Sen. Emanuel Jones, D-Decatur, a youngish auto dealership owner first elected in 2004. He is African-American.

Without Jones’ permission or knowledge, Brooks had listed the senator as a board member of his fake charity. Jones spends tens of thousands of dollars on TV advertising. He is protective of his name, and he was clearly ticked off at being drawn into a series of FBI interviews and now, forced court testimony.

“When I learned of the organization, I was extremely dismayed and confounded,” Jones told the prosecutor.

Jones has an MBA and a bachelor’s degree in electrical engineering. One of Brooks’ attorneys asked Jones if his success could be attributed to the work, 20 years earlier, of Brooks and others like him.

“I cannot make that argument that you just made,” Jones said. Every generation has contributed to the civil rights movement, he said – quite pointedly.

But Jones’ disappointment in Brooks only goes so far. After he left the stand, Jones told me that, last week, he had arranged for a private meeting between FBI agents involved in the Brooks case and the 94-year-old Rev. Joseph Lowery, who wanted to make a personal plea for leniency.

We called Lowery at his home late Wednesday. He wasn’t available. But here’s a line about Brooks in the letter that Lowery signed and sent to Judge Totenberg: “He is not only a foot soldier in the quest for justice, but he is our foot soldier.”