Damning Words if ever there were ones for the Miami-Dade Empowerment Trust

In the Miami Herald's continuing series Poverty Peddlers, today's front page story succinctly summoned up in just a few sentences what the Miami-Dade Empowerment Trust did and didn't do:

"...the Trust's investments...reveal a pattern of favoring insider firms above mom-and-pop enterprises while banking on risky real estate ventures that undermined the agency's own mission...During the past eight years, the Trust provided just $267,000 to seven small businesses around this intersection (NW 62nd St & 7th Ave) while dividing up nearly $3 million among a politically connected nonprofit group, an out-of-town development company that has been slammed by the county's inspector general and a local developer caught up in a scandal over the county's housing agency headquarters."

It goes on but the more you read, the more you want to cry as new names join the list of "usual suspects" and you soon begin to wonder if there is any hope at all for this community and you stop reading. To vent your frustrations, you blog, hoping the action is worth the effort to affect positive change. But as each day goes by living here and with each new series the Herald seems to start on a regular basis about public corruption, you know it probably isn't and begin fantasizing about pulling a Charles Bronson on the greedy bastards who started it all.

UpDate (10/17): Sandy Walker, the long-time Miami-Dade County lobbyist and sister of County Commissioner Barbara Jordan, pleaded guilty to defrauding the Miami-Dade Empowerment Trust by submitting false tax returns under a $200,000 loan agreement with the non-profit anti-poverty agency. She was sentenced to six months of house arrest followed by three years of probation. Ms. Walker was once chief of staff to County Commissioner Dennis Moss.

The MVB "Worthy Award" goes to fellow Miami blogger Dayngrous for her eMOM campaign

The MVB Worthy Award was inspired by "It's a Mad, Mad, Mad, Mad World," a 1963 movie starring Phil Silvers, Spencer Tracy, and Jonathan Winters among others. The parallels between the film and life in Miami-Dade County were eerily similar starting with the title of the picture which resonated with local relevance. In the movie, the characters will stop at nothing to get rich, just like many of our public "servants." When Jonathan Winters yells, "It's the Big 'W,' I tell ya, the Big 'W'!", they are led to believe that four palm trees resembling a "Big W" mark the spot where a recently deceased old guy's (Jimmy Durante) riches are buried. MVB liked the idea of taking a negative symbol that served as a beacon for cutthroat opportunists and transforming it into a positive one used in an award that recognizes: a) the efforts of those men and women fighting corruption and unbridled spending in a public sector palm covered world gone mad by greed and bone-headed stupidity and b), those in the private sector making the world a better place for all.

Fellow Miami blogger Dayngrous is so worthy in receiving our 5th-ever award. MVB is bestowing this prestigious prize upon her for her single-handed and unsung effort at buoying the morale of our service members. Participating doesn't mean you're for the war-- MVB wants the troops home yesterday. It does mean you want to tell these young men and women you are thinking about them and wish them well.

"eMail Our Military" (eMOM) is run from her home, an amazing feat in itself considering she has a toddler and a pre-schooler running around her feet while trying to run a household. However, it's not until you sign up as we did that you get the true scope of her accomplishment: working with the U.S. government isn't easy. It requires immense patience and savvy PR skills. As the "middle man," eMOM acts as the conduit for the public to reach service men and women stationed around the world. Once you get past jumping through the hoops the military sets up to protect its troops, it's pretty much clear sailing. We got our first "pen pal" name today. Although the act of writing an email to our troops is supposed to boost their spirits, I guarantee it will boost yours too. Even while composing the message, we started feeling better about ourselves. We knew through this simple act we were doing something good because our spirits were lifted.

If you haven't already done so, MVB urges all south Florida bloggers to get behind Dayngrous' worthy eMOM campaign. You'll be glad you did.

New Religion Founded in Miami

Maybe it has something to do with Miami being the nexus of the universe for all things good and bad that it has become an incubator for new religions and talismans for warding off evil. We got the 666 cultists in Hialeah, the Church of the Groovy Dude, the Church of the Politically Incorrect, a plethora of Santeria devotees (the most recent of whom were reported hanging the heads of "humanely" butchered animals around an upscale McMansion in chi chi Coral Gables), and most recently our own upstart religion built around Elita Loresca, "Goddess of the Storm." So it came as no surprise when I came to work today and tripped over a bunch of staff and people I had never seen before who were sitting on the floor and worshipping a large golden Buddha of Christopher Mazzella, Miami-Dade County's Inspector General.

"What the f---"

"Sh-h-h! Get your shoes off!"

It was Lincoln Basel, MVB's art critic. I quickly removed my shoes and sat next to him. "What the fuck," I whispered, "is going on?"

"We're worshipping the Christopher Mazzella Buddha."

I looked up at the towering statue. I wondered how the hell they got it up the steps and into the office. It took up most of the office space it was so goddamn big. I looked around. Another group of true believers, so close they were rubbing shoulders with the Buddhists, were kneeling in front of the Elita Loresca altar doing their best to om away hurricanes. No one was working. I turned to Lincoln and tapped him on the shoulder to get him to open his eyes and stop his praying. "Lincoln," I whispered, "just one question. Why?"

"The Miami Herald has uncovered more bad news about local government. Some chick named Barbara Gomez, Director of Miami's housing agency, is under investigation for steering over a million dollars to one of her ex-husbands who once did time for smuggling cocaine."

"But that's normal here. Do you think it requires founding a new religion?"

"The Herald also reports she's under investigation for steering millions of dollars to developers who failed to deliver on public housing projects."

"Yeah, so? This is the norm here. I don't think--"

"Her other ex-husband is Rene Rodriguez."

I stopped short. Rene Rodriguez was the Teflon bureaucrat who once directed Miami-Dade county's corrupt and mismanaged public housing agency before taking an early retirement.

"We think, " Lincoln whispered, "Christopher Mazzella and his staff will need all the help they can get."

I couldn't argue with him. It appeared the tentacles of corruption and greed were running deeper than anyone had suspected. I shifted onto my knees and started praying, crossing myself, and genuflecting for all I was worth.

UpDate (6/28): The Miami Herald reports today that the Miami city manager is forcing the Godfaddah (aka Miami Housing Director) to take an early retirement. Downside: She may walk away with a penison worth $1 million.

UpDate (7/13): Barbara Gomez, the Miami Housing Director, is fired and loses million dollar pension. Also fired, Mary Conway, Chief of Operations, for allowing a group of employees known as "The Firm" to operate a private business out of that department.

Score One for the Miami-Dade Inspector General

Christopher Mazzella runs Miami-Dade's Office of the Inspector General. He and his staff are one of the few good things our county has going for it. He inspired our first MVB Worthy Award. Without his tenacious watchdog efforts, we're sure things would be a lot uglier in government and truly believe he and his office are keeping it from sliding further toward becoming a banana republic. Yesterday, the Miami Herald reports the state reaffirmed his right to use a national crime database.

And why, might you ask, would such a question come up in the first place?

Because Miami-Dade police union President John Rivera was angry about Mazzella investigating him and other officers by using the National Crime Information Center (NCIC) database which is used for criminal background checks. Rivera was angry enough to file lawsuits and publicly berate Mazzella because, in his view, the investigations were "flawed and unfair" after an anonymous complaint against the cops. It is Rivera's contention that Mazzella had "misrepresented his office as a 'criminal justice agency'."

Say what? Isn't that exactly what they are?

"There was no doubt," Mazzella said, "given our agency's commitment to rooting out corruption that we are a criminal justice agency."

Last fall a Miami-Dade investigation found no crime had been committed by Mazzella and his crew. In fact they suggested that the Florida Department of Law Enforcement (FDLE) join the FBI which has seen the inspector general's office as a criminal justice agency for nearly a decade. Yesterday, the FDLE gave Mazzella and his department its official blessing for access to the NCIC.

Following that ruling, Rivera, also the statewide Police Benevolent Association president, said he would file a complaint against the FDLE and ask for his own access to the NCIC. He reminded everyone that he has a "higher authority than Chris Mazzella. I want a machine for the PBA too."

Yikes! Now that makes us nervous. Besides sounding a bit childish on Rivera's part, we suspect by all the posturing and lawsuits thrown at Mazzella and his posse, the good guys are on to something, something big enough to make headlines and the corrupted powerful sweat.

MVB Worthy Award Goes To Jose Solares

The MVB Worthy Award was inspired by "It's a Mad, Mad, Mad, Mad World," a 1963 movie starring Phil Silvers, Spencer Tracy, and Jonathan Winters among others. The parallels between the film and life in Miami-Dade County were eerily similar starting with the title of the picture which resonated with local relevance. In the movie, the characters will stop at nothing to get rich, just like many of our public "servants." When Jonathan Winters yells, "It's the Big 'W,' I tell ya, the Big 'W'!", they are led to believe that four palm trees resembling a "Big W" mark the spot where a recently deceased old guy's (Jimmy Durante) riches are buried. MVB liked the idea of taking a negative symbol that served as a beacon for cutthroat opportunists and transforming it into a positive one used in an award that recognizes the efforts of those men and women fighting corruption and unbridled spending in a public sector palm covered world gone mad by greed and bone-headed stupidity.

Our third ever MVB Worthy Award goes to the rarest of breeds, the public servant who can say no to spending your money. When Terence Riley, president of the Miami Art Museum, came begging recently for millions of dollars from the Bond Oversight committee to build his $208 million museum, all but one of its board members caved. That gentleman's name is Jose Solares. It seemed Mr. Solares, an electrical engineer appointed by Miami Commissioner Marc Sarnoff, had a problem with the museum's preliminary budget's consulting fees, some of which are listed here*:

• $2.2 million for MEP/FP consultants
• $1.1 million for structural consultants
• $200,000 for a lighting consultant
• $125,000 for acoustical/audiovisual consultants
• $100,000 for food consultants
• $100,000 for thermal studies
• $50,000 for digital systems consultants
• $50,000 for an elevator/escalator consultant
• $50,000 for a retail consultant

As much as we want to see the art and science museums rise at Bicentennial Park, we'd also love to see somebody pull in the reins at least once in awhile against the charging, mindless beasts running roughshod over the public coffers. There aren't enough public servants like Mr. Solares riding shotgun on the county and city's runaway stagecoach. He may have lost this one, but he won our respect and humble recognition.

UpDate (6/14): Riley gets an extra $2 million from City of Miami commissioners for his museum.

*As reported in the April 5th edition of The SunPost.

Second MVB "Worthy Award" Goes To Detective Nicky Echezabal

The MVB Worthy Award was inspired by "It's a Mad, Mad, Mad, Mad World," a 1963 movie starring Phil Silvers, Spencer Tracy, and Jonathan Winters among others. The parallels between the film and life in Miami-Dade County were eerily similar starting with the title of the picture which resonated with local relevance. In the movie, the characters will stop at nothing to get rich, just like many of our public "servants." When Jonathan Winters yells, "It's the Big 'W,' I tell ya, the Big 'W'!", they are led to believe that four palm trees resembling a "Big W" mark the spot where a recently deceased old guy's (Jimmy Durante) riches are buried. MVB liked the idea of taking a negative symbol that served as a beacon for cutthroat opportunists and transforming it into a positive one used in an award that recognizes the efforts of those men and women fighting corruption in a public sector palm covered world gone mad by greed and bone-headed stupidity.

With that in mind, our second MVB "Worthy Award" was given to schools Detective Nicky Echezabal for just doing her job-- and getting heat from those above her for doing it. As it turned out, Detective Echezabal got transferred and her pay slashed when it was discovered by Northwestern High administrators that a report she had given to the Miami police department showed the school had failed to report to police-- more than six weeks after it happened-- the alleged sexual encounter in a school bathroom between a 14-year-old girl and the school's 19-year-old star football player Antwain Easterling. The report shows that most of the top administrators at the school-- including principal Dwight Bernard-- knew of the allegations midway through their championship season. The police finally found out when the mother of the 14-year-old girl cornered a surprised cop assigned to the school at the local (we're not making this up) Dunkin' Donuts and told him she was "tired of the runaround." This was the first time he had heard anything about the alleged crime. He filed his own reports and two days later on December 7th, the police sent in its special victims unit and arrested Easterling on charges of lewd and lascivious battery on a minor, a crime that took place way back on September 16th. Now, at most schools, getting arrested and thrown into jail would mean at least a ten-day suspension and no play time and, at most, expulsion. Not at Northwestern. They needed Easterling to play in the state championship game. Within days of bonding out of jail, Easterling rushed for 157 yards and scored a touchdown in leading Northwestern to the state title. Now that the shit is hitting the fan as more and more information becomes available to the public, Detective Echezabal was "abruptly transferred" last week and her pay slashed for only doing her job. Officially, the school district's draconian reaction is because Detective Echezabal "didn't follow proper protocol"-- she shouldn't have given a copy of her report to Miami police detectives before her report was reviewed and approved by her superiors.

Whoe, it looks like the school district relegates tougher and swifter punishment for their school cops than for a star student athlete arrested and thrown into jail for a sex crime. Afterall, the kid got to play anyway after doing jail time and is back attending regular classes while Detective Echezabal got the shaft.

We think this stinks to high heaven and believe C. "Boss" Poop will have a whole slew of new members joining Club Poop from Northwestern. We think there was a conspiracy at the highest levels at the school to keep this alleged sex crime under wraps at least until the end of the football season. That they thought they could actually get away with this "cover up" is truly amazing. Haven't they ever heard of something called "Watergate"? According to the last two days of Miami Herald reporting, there are way too many players in this sordid little drama called denial to keep it from unraveling. Right now, no one at the school knows nothing and the blame game is starting. All for what? A winning football season? A chance at the state championship? Talk about a misguided set a values from a group of adults impressionable kids look up to for guidance.

So, because we think this is so outrageous and unfair, it was a no-brainer for us to give the MVB "Worthy Award" to Detective Nicky Echezabal. Hopefully she will consider bitch slapping the school district with a well-deserved law suit.

UpDate (1/19): Sex charges may be dropped against Easterling if he completes a special program for youthful offenders. If he completes the program, he will not have a conviction on his record that "could hamper his football career" as reported in the Herald. The Miami Dade Schools police union has filed grievances on behalf of Detective Echezabal. New allegations by the union include Echezabal being denied a scheduled promotion.

UpDate (2/8): Easterling signs with Ol' Miss.

UpDate (March): Easterling is busted and later fined for marijuana possession.

UpDate (6/4): Because of a grand jury investigation, principal Dwight Bernard is booked into Miami-Dade county jail on two third-degree felony counts of official misconduct. The Miami Herald also notes that Echezabal was promoted to sergeant after the police union complained of retaliation. To see an amazing video of Bernard getting arrested and led to jail plus a look at the state attorney's palatable discuss with school administrators, click here.

UpDate (7/11): Superintendent Rudy Crew fires the head coach and the entire football staff.

UpDate (9/14): Miami Northwestern becomes national champions by beating Texas high school football team Southlake Carroll in front of a national TV audience at SMU's Ford Stadium.

UpDate (2/24/08): Southern Miss suspends Easterling for violation of team rules. It is the second punishment for Easterling who was placed on indefinite suspension for a violation of team rules in November.

First MVB "Worthy Award" Given To Three Public Corruption Fighters

MVB is proud to honor three Miami-Dade County public officials with our first "Worthy Award." These gentlemen are responsible for rooting out public corruption, a daunting job if ever there was one.

• Christopher Mazzella, the county's Inspector General,
• Joseph Centorino, Chief of the Public Corruption Unit at the State Attorney's Office,
• Robert Meyers, Executive Director of the Miami-Dade County Ethics and Public Trust Commission.

The formal awards ceremony took place in Little Haiti at Churchill's Pub last night. After Bob Enzyte, MVB's award giver, was patted down and his cummerbund tightened to insure a modicum of decorum, he stepped up to the podium and told the crowd that the MVB Worthy Award was inspired by "It's a Mad, Mad, Mad, Mad World," a 1963 movie starring Phil Silvers, Spencer Tracy, and Jonathan Winters among others. The parallels between the film and life in Miami-Dade County were eerily similar starting with the title of the picture which resonated with local relevance. In the movie, the characters will stop at nothing to get rich, just like many of our public "servants." When Jonathan Winters yells, "It's the Big 'W,' I tell ya, the Big 'W'!", they are led to believe that four palm trees resembling a "Big W" mark the spot where a recently deceased old guy's (Jimmy Durante) riches are buried. MVB liked the idea of taking a negative symbol that served as a beacon for cutthroat opportunists and transforming it into a postive one used in an award that recognizes the efforts of those men and women fighting corruption in a public sector palm covered world gone mad by greed.

"Thank God," Enzyte said, "they wanted to call it the 'Worthy Award,' otherwise they'd still be looking for other symbolic connections and we wouldn't be here." As the crowd chuckled, Enzyte looked over at Verticus Erectus, the MVB publisher. By his dead-eye expression, one could tell Erectus didn't think it was funny.

Enzyte's mouth began to twitch. He turned away and grabbed his cummerbund as if it were a security blanket. "Anyway," he continued, "the 'Worthy Award' represents the yin to MVB's 'Wall of Shame's' yang. Of course, it might be a lot harder finding 'worthy' public servants than it is those ripping off the public, but that's okay, because this award is made from genuine Swarovski crystal and it ain't cheap."

"Svarsky? Yang?" someone yelled from the bar. "What the hell are you talking about?"

"Yeah! We want the 'Dixie Dawgs Unleashed'!"

"Yeah?" Enzyte screamed back and, with a jabbing, twisting finger for emphasis, added, "Well f*** you!"

"Bob?" Erectus' voice rose over the background chatter and the clinking of glasses in a steady, drawn out manner.

Enzyte could tell his boss was not pleased. Immediately a perspiration moustache appeared, glistening under the harsh spotlights. He turned toward the three honorees and wiped the sweat away. Even though they were seated behind a table on the stage and were looking up at him, it seemed they were looking down at him, judging him from their position of superior masculinity, reminding him that he was an unworthy lesser man who was nuts to boot. Enzyte tried to smile. He nodded toward the three worthies. "Excuse me," he said before turning to the bar. "My apologies to the bar. The 'Dawgs' will be up right after this."

"Yee-haw!"

That cheer cut the tension and when the scattered laughter died down, Enzyte introduced Christopher Mazzella. Upon accepting his award, Mr. Mazzella characterized his job as a "street fight." With over 30,000 employees and a nearly $7 billion budget, there is a lot that can go wrong. He told the large crowd gathered around the candle lit tables enjoying their Curry Night buffet that 5 percent of all public dollars are lost to "fraud and ineptitude" which is about $344 million a year for Miami-Dade County.

After the crowd stopped choking on their potatos vindaloo, Mazzella went on to say that there are two types of corruption: the "traditional" kind involving kickbacks and bribery and a second kind catagroized by "waste, fraud, and abuse of power."

In his acceptance speech, Mr. Centorino said Miami-Dade County public corruption "is like a cancer that is far advanced before it comes to light" and that it was not seen until the media began exposing it in the 1990s. Because it was so bad, he thought it would take a generation to clean it up. Now he thinks that "maybe we are halfway there."

"What can we do to help?" a drunk shouted from the circular bar.

Centorino said you need to have a "level of outrage" that will make you want to "go into public service for the right reasons."

"Well," the drunk shouted back before falling off his barstool, "I'm mad as hell and I'm not going to take it any more!"

"Me, too!" his buddy agreed. "Let's arrest all dem city hall bastards now!"

Centorino patiently explained that although a lot of the stuff we read in the paper about our public officials might look like "outrageous and unethical activity," that doesn't mean it's criminal. According to Centorino, criminal behavior must fit within the "narrow confines of the criminal statutes."

"Does that mean we can't arrest commissioners for babbling on about not having enough water?" another barfly shouted across the lovely English barmaid Alex's tattoos. "Or when one of them shows signs of para...paranoia on the po...podium?"

"No comment," Centorino commented.

At that point, Enzyte stood up and took the mike. "Although I'm sure you'd love to, right, Mr. Centorino?"

Centorino yanked the mike from Enzyte's hand and nodded at a big, burly cop lurking in the shadows. The cop pushed his way through the dark pub, knocking candle lit tables and diners askew to get to the stage. Enzyte was thrown up against a wall and handcuffed-- but not before his pants and his cummerbund fell to the ground. When the cop whipped Enzyte around to escort him off the stage, that's when we heard the first scream. It was Brooklyn, the other barmaid who can only be described in the vernacular of a Russ Meyer movie press kit as "pneumatic." She missed the first time (see here) Enzyte hosted an event and was unprepared for what she saw.

"I'm thinking of suing MVB," she cried. "I don't think I'll ever be the same after what I saw tonight."

When Erectus was told Brooklyn might sue him, he sighed and said, "I don't blame her. I thought Bob had stopped self-medicating, but I guess not. Anyway, I'm going to have a talk with her to see what I can work out."

Unfortunately, following Enzyte's arrest, and the riot it precipitated, the third recipient of the MVB Worthy Award could not be found. In case Mr. Meyers is reading this, your award was last seen in Brooklyn's hands as Erectus, with an arm around her shoulders, led her weeping from the pub toward his Rolls Royce. Please advise if you still want it.