As I Saw It

by Scott, Marvin; Rather, Dan;

  As we dug deeper into our investigation, sources told us they had knowledge of politicians being in the pocket of shipping companies that were reaping huge benefits, including government subsidies and favorable-treatment status. As I unveiled these findings on the air, I suddenly became rather popular with a few shipping magnates. One of them was Spyros Skouras, then-CEO of Prudential-Grace Lines, who invited me to a meeting, sending a station wagon to bring me to his office in lower Manhattan. Sitting behind a desk in his opulent office, he was charismatic but business-like, and we chatted amicably for a while. While I was hoping he was going to offer me some usable information, it turned out he was fishing for what I might have had on him. A high-level contributor to the campaign of then–Vice President Spiro Agnew, and closely tied to Nixon himself—who had once served as his attorney—Skouras was in tight with the Nixon administration, and reportedly pledged to give $5 million to the Nixon campaign if he named Agnew his vice president and made other Skouras-friendly appointments to the Maritime Commission.

  As we probed deeper into the inner workings of Washington, sources pointed us to information showing how other officials in high places “extracted” political contributions from the shipping industry. We reported that Helen Bentley, Nixon’s hand-picked chair of the Maritime Commission, was on record admitting that she had solicited at least $20,000 from shipping companies for Nixon’s 1972 campaign. One of her predecessors told us, “She turned the commission from a monitoring agency into a lobbying agency that benefited the private companies.” Former Congressman and Commerce Secretary Rogers Morton had questionable transactions with the maritime industry, too. Mike Trupp, who had served as director of international affairs for the Maritime Commission, said he had seen firsthand what he called “a shakedown” by Morton, in the form of high-priced ticket sales to congressional fundraising events.

  The scope of our probe broadened rapidly as we began hearing stories about irregularities along the waterfront, including the mandating of no-show jobs by the unions. My reports, which were broadcast in both New York and Washington, were noticeably beginning to touch some nerves. Law firms and communications directors of companies and individuals we had named began to reach out to us, seeking transcripts of our reports and denying that their clients had done anything illegal. Stanley Pinsley and I knew the stakes here were high, and worked hard to remain responsible with what we were reporting—for each bit of information, we had at least two and sometimes as many as five sources.

  Still, at times I found myself looking over my shoulder. One afternoon, I received a call from a man who claimed to have information I would find valuable. He wanted me to meet him aboard a freighter that was loading cargo on the Brooklyn docks. With some trepidation I headed for the rendezvous, alerting my news desk to look for me if they didn’t hear from me by 6 p.m. It felt like a scene out of a movie as I walked across the dock and into the bowels of a freighter preparing to leave for Hong Kong. Once aboard, I met with the disgruntled ship worker—who, it turned out, was simply looking to vent about poor working conditions.

  * * *

  We were beginning to wind down our investigation when it took another dramatic turn. Trupp, the former Maritime Commission executive, suggested we take a look at President Ford’s past dealings with maritime interests, asserting that when Ford was the House Minority leader, he received payoffs in the form of fees for speaking engagements before the Maritime Trades Department of the AFL-CIO. According to Trupp and other sources, Ford and other congressmen were invited to weekly cocktail luncheons where they would deliver speeches, frequently written by the labor group, and receive honorariums in return. Ford was said to be among the highest-paid of these beneficiaries. Justice Department records confirmed that Ford’s name was on a list of favored congressmen who received contributions through secret bank accounts; but while several industry and union leaders were found guilty of illegal activity, Ford and other elected officials were never charged—because, as it was explained, there was no proof that they knowingly accepted illegal contributions. Nevertheless, our last report rattled the inner sanctum of the White House, and prompted a call to me from the office of the President’s Press Secretary. While it was acknowledged that President Ford, as a member of Congress, accepted fees for speaking engagements, it was again emphasized that he had done nothing illegal.

  In the weeks and months following our reports, federal authorities clamped down on maritime unions and made a number of arrests on racketeering charges. The Justice Department informed Senator Weicker that it was dropping its criminal investigation into the seemingly fraudulent ferryboat exchanges we had brought to light, because the statute of limitations would prevent potential prosecution. The special Watergate prosecutor who closely studied our investigative reports informed us that his office had no jurisdiction to probe allegations of political corruption prior to 1972. As for the Vessel Exchange Act, it expired in 1972 as well, because the U.S. reserve fleet had by that time been depleted of ships available for commercial trade.

  It was an exciting journey for a local reporter. Beginning with a tip about a dilapidated ferryboat and developing into a trail of information that led us through the highest levels of government, our probe allowed us to uncover facts, seek the truth and create a new public awareness of political greed that led to subsequent reforms. And it garnered professional recognition, too: seven months after our exclusive exposé, The Washington Post “broke” a similar story that gained national attention. The following spring I was proud to receive my first Emmy Award, for Outstanding Investigative Reporting.

  25

  THE READING TEST SCANDAL

  Portion of the legislation enacted as a result of my investigation.

  In 1974, I found that tens of thousands of New York City schoolchildren were being cheated out of a proper education by being provided answers in advance to a standardized reading test. My reporting resulted in several reforms, including legislation that made it a criminal act for anyone to provide advance knowledge of test answers.

  It began with an anonymous call from a teacher at a school in a minority neighborhood in Brooklyn. He told me that the school’s 1400 students had gained advance knowledge of the Metropolitan Achievement Test through extensive coaching by teachers. He told me he could document his charge, and agreed to meet with me outside a motel on Long Island and conduct an interview with me, provided I shielded his face. When I arrived at the motel, he wasn’t there—but he had left an envelope with the desk clerk. On mimeographed sheets were “Word Knowledge” and “Practice Reading” questions, identical to those on the actual published test.

  The next day, I visited what was then Junior High School 263, which two years earlier had shown the lowest reading scores in the city. Teachers spoke to me off-camera, many expressing pleasure that I was exposing what they called “these dishonest practices.” They showed me a memo that they claimed was written by the acting principal, directing them to give students practice tests on four separate occasions—and to burn the practice tests afterwards. They were shocked the day they administered the actual test and discovered that its questions were identical to those on the test they’d been using in the practice sessions. The advance knowledge produced extraordinary results: an 800% improvement in reading scores. Only five percent of the students had been reading at the proper grade level two years before; now almost 25% of the students who were coached in advance were reading well, according to the test results. Two classes had perfect scores. Many students had supposedly advanced two, three and four years in their reading ability; some scores jumped so high, teachers told me, they had to be doctored downward. All of this was in sharp contrast to the overall findings of the citywide test, which found reading deficiencies in 66 percent of the city’s half-million elementary and middle-schoolers.

  The principal at JHS 263 denied having directed teachers to coach students with actual test questions. He said that he had instructed them to compile old test questions for pra
ctice, and insisted he had no knowledge that current test questions were being used. Others asserted that the finger-pointing at the principal, who was black, was racially motivated by white teachers, who were “out to get him.”

  My initial report on WNEW-TV’s Ten O’Clock News opened a Pandora’s box. The following morning I was flooded with dozens of calls, most of them anonymous, from teachers at other schools throughout the city, reporting similar practices at their schools and noting that helping students cheat on standardized tests was quite common. As I probed deeper, I learned that coaching was only one facet of the cheating scheme; another widespread practice involved re-testing students until they got a good grade. One teacher revealed to me that she was instructed by her school supervisor to discard her students’ lowest scores, and to withhold not more than five students in each class. Another told me that, rather than turn in a poor test paper, she was told to mark the student absent. Some students were re-tested as many as four times in pursuit of acceptable scores.

  One tip led me to the tests’ publisher, where I learned that identical tests were administered every four-year period, making it possible for teachers to get their hands on old tests with which to coach their students. Poor security made these tests easily accessible. One old test had the name of the student who had taken it four years earlier, still written on it. The Schools Chancellor, Irving Anker, had told me that no one was supposed to hold on to standardized tests.

  I continued to receive mail and calls from teachers and parents as my exposé gained traction. Other media began picking up on the story. Dr. Edith Gaines, Executive Director of Education Planning and Support for the Board of Education, who was responsible for developing new teaching methods, called the allegations “horrendous and insulting” to the children, and called for an immediate investigation. After determining the validity of my reports, education officials invalidated 5,000 previously administered tests, and ordered the re-testing of 55,000 students.

  As I continued my investigative series, I received additional information about testing irregularities and some of the reasoning behind such actions. The most frequent rationale was accountability. Principals and teachers expressed the belief that their value as educators was being measured by how well their students performed, and said there was competition between school districts to achieve higher levels of student performance. Some principals acknowledged that students had often been helped to pass exams in part because of pressure by both parents and education officials to get higher scores for New York students, in order to make them competitive with the national averages. One principal said that many students in his minority neighborhood school were poor readers who felt inferior and defeated, and that the reading tests, which didn’t truly reflect students’ learning ability anyway, were a good chance to boost their confidence. “They must be encouraged and get a sense of achievement,” he said, rationalizing that by having them pass tests by whatever means, they might learn better in the future. Another principal, at a Manhattan school, said that students were often pushed along despite poor test scores, in order to prevent leaving overcrowded schools with holdovers.

  In response to these reports, angry parents and educators began to pressure city and state officials. Soon the New York City Council called for an investigation, as did the state legislature. Assemblyman Leonard Stavisky, who chaired the Committee on Education, held a public hearing and asked me to be the lead witness. Lawmakers were shocked to hear what I had learned. My exposé prompted investigators to focus on 150 classes in 31 schools, where they found many abuses involving the reading tests. One principal, saddened by the fraudulent practices, said the real victims were the students.

  “They are being cheated out of a proper education,” he said, and contributing to the alarming statistic of one million American kids between 12 and 17 who at the time were listed by the National Center for Health Statistics as “illiterate”—unable to read as well as the average fourth-grader.

  Two months after my initial report, new tests were given to 55,000 students. The public was assured the tests were secure. A day in advance I sat down for a television interview with Anthony J. Polemeni, an acting director of the Board of Education, who informed me that reform measures were already being implemented and that future tests would be secure.

  “What about this re-test—how secure is it?” I asked.

  “Quite secure,” he declared, claiming that exhaustive measures had been taken in advance to make certain it would not be compromised. Reaching into my back pocket, I pulled out a copy of the actual test to be given the next day and asked, “Then how is it I have received a copy of it?” Recognizing that he was on-camera, Polemeni kept his cool, but voiced his dismay and questioned whether the copy I had was actually identical to the real test. When I said it was, he promised to look into the matter. Once off-camera, he castigated me for embarrassing him—he had been cooperative with me during the extent of my investigation, he said, and thought I should have given him the courtesy of letting him know what I had before the on-camera interview. I apologized for the embarrassment, but respectfully defended my action as journalistically legitimate.

  The new test was administered in a number of schools selected at random, as well as in the schools where cheating had been suspected. It provided a powerful comparison between the two tests: 51% of students received lower grades in the second test, 37% higher grades and 12% showed no change. At JHS 263, students who had done well on the rehearsed test two months earlier dropped two or more years below level on the re-test.

  In addition to the re-testing of students, disciplinary action was taken against several educators. An assistant principal was demoted, several teachers were transferred to other schools and formal reprimands were issued to a few non-tenured teachers. The Board of Education initiated reforms for future testing, and found a new supplier for its tests who guaranteed security safeguards, including the assurance that tests would not be delivered to schools until 24 hours prior to testing.

  27 months after I had been tipped off to what became known as the Reading Test Scandal, I was honored to receive the pen with which Governor Hugh Carey signed into law Assembly Bill 5886-A, an amendment to the state education law. The bill, introduced by Assemblyman Stavisky and 37 co-sponsors and approved by both chambers of the legislature, made it “unlawful for any person to willfully and wrongfully disclose or transmit the questions and or answers to an examination prior to the test.” The legislation defined the violation as a misdemeanor, with a provision for punitive measures established for violators.

  The copy of that bill, now beginning to yellow from age where it hangs on my wall, is among my proudest possessions. Next to it hangs the letter from Assemblyman Stavisky, acknowledging my pursuit of a story that would guarantee a better education for millions of New York schoolchildren.

  “It is not often that a newsman becomes a newsmaker,” he wrote, “but you have earned both designations as a result of your superb investigative reporting.”

  * * *

  The new law was put to its first real test 23 years later in 1999, when 52 principals and teachers at 32 schools were accused of giving students answers to citywide reading and math tests. It happened at a time when educators nationwide were under intense pressure to improve student test scores, and at the time it was considered the biggest cheating scandal in the American public-school system’s history. All of those suspected of involvement were suspended, pending the outcome of the investigation. Five of the implicated educators immediately resigned or were dismissed, escaping further charges. Several others were reassigned elsewhere in their school districts. After a year-long investigation under the never-before-used state law, punitive action was taken against half the group. Charges against others were dropped for lack of evidence of wrongdoing.

  Outraged that educators would engage in such activity, one legislator decided at the height of the scandal that it was time to take action and get some media attention. Assemblyman
John Ravitz called a news conference to announce he was introducing a bill “that would make it a crime for teachers or school administrators to help students cheat on standardized exams.” His press release said that there were no laws in New York for these actions, concluding, “We must have a law on the books to help make sure that never happens again.” After reading the release in advance of the assemblyman’s press conference, I called his office to inform them that Assembly Bill 5886-A was already part of the state law, and did exactly what Ravitz was proposing to do. They were totally oblivious, and went ahead with their news conference anyway. Ravitz succeeded in getting his face on the evening newscasts, but his bill never made it out of committee to become law. The original 1976 bill, inspired by my investigation, remains in effect to this day.

  26

  BECOMING MY OWN STORY

  Filing a report from the Channel 5 newsroom.

  A story I was investigating never made it on the air, because I got scooped by the very people I was investigating—and I became a focal point of the story.

  It all began when the New Jersey State Commission of Investigation attempted to get an ex-convict with mob connections to speak to me for a television report, as part of a purported plot to embarrass the New Jersey State Police. SCI attorney Alfred Genton first reached out to me in 1977 to offer me the incredible story. Over drinks at a motel, Genton told me that the state police had hired the ex-con, James Jelicks, as an undercover agent, and ordered him to break into the home of a local horse breeder to get evidence that he was drugging race horses in order to “juice them up” before races. Genton said that Jelicks was essentially paid by the department to commit burglary, and that on their behalf he had stolen drug records and set up electronic eavesdropping devices to record Sunday-morning meetings between horseracing ticket agents, drivers and trainers.