Imprisoned for money laundering, former DeKalb civic leader still finds support

Ware, owner of a Lithonia accounting firm and president of 100 Black Men of DeKalb County, told them all he was innocent, noting that he was the only one of the 15 defendants charged in the massive drug trafficking and money laundering organization to not accept a plea deal.

But a federal jury in Atlanta found him guilty in January 2013. Prosecutors said he laundered hundereds of thousands of dollars over a period of four years on behalf of a criminal organization that distributed thousands of kilograms of imported cocaine.

Back in DeKalb, most who knew Ware didn’t even know he’d been charged. In the year between his conviction and his sentencing, Ware continued as if it were business as usual.

“There was no indication anything was wrong,” Morgan said. “A lot of people had no idea he had even been on trial.”

Last month, Ware began serving a six-year sentence in a southeast Atlanta federal prison camp, to be followed by three years of supervised release. Of the 14 remaining defendants, 13 were sentenced to prison terms ranging from 2½ to 16½ years.

“All of the defendants in this case are deserving of the sentences handed down,” said Harry S. Sommers, special agent in charge of the Drug Enforcement Agency’s Atlanta field office. “Several of these individuals masked themselves as legitimate businessmen, while everyone lined their pockets with excessive profits gained from drug trafficking.”

The recommended sentence for Ware’s offense was around 15 years, according to his attorney, Dwight Thomas. Ware’s reputation — and an agreement not to appeal the verdict — helped him win the shorter prison term, Thomas said.

That reputation, it seems, remains largely intact.

A member of the family

Last weekend, Tucker High School’s basketball team held its annual senior night. Among the upcoming graduates honored: Ware’s son, the Tigers’ star point guard.

His father’s absence was noticeable.

“There wasn’t a game that went by that you didn’t hear his voice yelling from the stands,” said Tameka Smith, president of the Tucker TipOff Club. “It felt strange for him not to be there.”

As Morgan put it, Ware was like a member of the family: “That’s why we all feel so badly for him.”

Matthew Ware, who just turned 58, was a talented basketball player at Fisk University, good enough to play professionally in Europe, said his wife, attorney E. Noreen Banks-Ware. When he settled in DeKalb he coached AAU teams, continuing even after his son moved on to high school.

Ware opened his accounting firm in 1991, around the time he moved from Athens, where he was a one-term city councilman. He caught his future wife’s eye while serving as campaign chairman for Michael Thurmond’s bid for a state House seat.

“He was tall and handsome. That’s the first thing I noticed about him,” said Banks-Ware, eight years his junior and still a student at the University of Georgia when they met in the early 1980s.

As she got to know him she was struck by Ware’s earnestness.

"Here was someone who was trying to make a difference," Banks-Ware told The Atlanta Journal-Constitution. They've been married for 24 years and also have a daughter about to graduate from Howard University.

Theirs was the quintessential American success story.

Bags of cash

Around 2005, a mutual acquaintance introduced Ware to Jiles and Shannon Johnson, owners of a thriving BBQ restaurant on Roswell Road in Sandy Springs in need of an accountant.

In an interview with Valerie Morgan just days before he reported to prison, Ware said he had no idea the Johnsons were trafficking cocaine.

“They had a restaurant. I thought they were running a legitimate business,” said Ware, noting KC Pit BBQ was clearing $3 million a year, 70 percent of which were cash sales. “How was I supposed to know what they were doing?”

Prosecutors said he at least should have known something was amiss with the Johnsons. Federal judge Richard Story agreed, instructing jurors that they could find Ware guilty of, what his attorney called "willful ignorance."

The transactions involving Ware date back to 2006, according to the prosecution’s evidence. The traffcking enterprise was shut down four years later after Jiles Johnson, a licensed commercial truck driver, was busted delivering 35 kilograms of cocaine to Philadelphia. Jiles Johnson was charged with transporting cocaine imported from Mexico to California, Kansas City, Philadelphia and Washington, D.C. and sentenced to 15 years in prison. Shannon Johnson, charged with one count of money laundering, was sentenced to three years.

The restaurant, according to federal authorities, was just a front to cover their drug profits. Ware, they say, acted as a conduit who legitimized the couple’s financial transactions.

According to the U.S. Attorney’s Office, he accepted bags of cash, as much as $60,000 at a time, from the Johnsons and loaned it to clients of his accounting firm, who would repay with checks made out to one of Johnson’s side businesses. Ware also failed to file 8300 forms with the IRS, which are required whenever a business receives sums of cash exceeding $10,000.

In his dealings with the Johnsons, Ware ignored several red flags, said Philip Beatty, an Atlanta-based CPA.

“Accountants usually don’t take cash for their services,” Beatty said. “Would I take $1,000 for a one-time service. Probably. But not in large sums like you’re talking about.”

When the money got too much for him to handle alone, Ware turned to Atlanta financial planner Jacques Degaule, who deposited more than $7 million to banks in Georgia, Missouri, Pennsylvania and New Jersey, according to court documents. Degaule pleaded guilty to two counts of interstate transportation in aid of racketeering enterprises and was sentenced to three years in prison.

Banks-Ware insists her husband didn’t profit a dime, pointing out that the couple filed for bankruptcy in 2010.

“There’s no proof that he made any extra money off these deals,” she said. “He’s one of those people who tries to help those who need it. He had clients who needed a short-term loan, and he put the parties together.”

Regardless, he repeatedly violated industry practice, Beatty said.

“As an accountant, any time I’m dealing with a business that I suspect is doing something unethical, my responsibility is to disengage,” he said.

Friends remain loyal

Many of the people who knew Ware best were reluctant to speak about him to a reporter. DeKalb Sheriff Thomas Brown, reached by phone, declined comment except to say Ware had been a “good friend.”

But though it may be quiet, his support runs deep, Morgan said.

“He loved his work and he loved his community and people won’t forget that,” she said. “You were glad to have him as a friend.”

Morgan acknowledges the evidence “speaks for itself,” an admission others who know Ware refuse to make.

“I absolutely think he is innocent,” said Tameka Smith, the Tucker High booster. “I think he went out on a limb to try to help people and it ended up costing him.”

Ware’s accounting firm remains open, and his wife said they’ve retained most of their clientele.

“All we’ve asked is that people stick with us, continue doing business with us as they always have,” she said. “We’re not asking for any handouts.”

Banks-Ware said her husband is holding up well in prison, where he’s housed along with other non-violent offenders. She’s confident he won’t have to serve all six years though the law mandates federal prisoners serve 85 percent of their sentence.

“Sometimes the justice system is unfair,” she said.

Prosecutors declined to be interviewed for this article.

Morgan said even those who believe Ware was guilty are likely to welcome him back to the community with open arms.

“There’s no doubt in my mind,” she said. “He made enough friends, and did enough kind deeds, that, one way or another, he’ll be forgiven.”