Hub's super bowl is nearly ready

Problems stalled $300,000 toilet

TAMPA, Fla. — A Florida death row inmate is suing to get a vintage Chevy pickup owned by the couple he is convicted of killing.

William Deparvine was sentenced to death in 2006 for killing Richard and Karla Van Dusen. His lawsuit over their car has now dragged on for two years, the St. Petersburg Times reported.

The dispute is over a red 1971 Chevrolet Cheyenne truck Van Dusen bought and refurbished in the late 1990s after he divorced. He went to weekend car shows with it and won trophies. After he remarried, however, he decided to sell the truck, and Deparvine responded to a classified ad he took out.

On Nov. 26, 2003, the day after Deparvine met with Van Dusen, 58, and his wife, 49, their bodies were found in a dirt driveway in northwest Hillsborough County. Both had been shot in the head.

Authorities said Deparvine planned to rob and kill the couple but wanted to make it look like he bought the truck and someone else shot them. He typed up a bill of sale indicating the truck had been sold for $6,500 and signed Richard Van Dusen’s name.

At trial, Deparvine, 57, claimed he was innocent, but jurors found him guilty and sentenced him to death.

From his cell, he has claimed the bill of sale proves he owns the truck, and he has filed pages of handwritten court pleadings in his case.

“I will have to give him credit,” said Robert Vessel, an attorney for Richard Van Dusen’s daughter. “He’s one of the best jailhouse lawyers I’ve seen.”

It may not be enough to get the truck back. Van Dusen’s daughter said her cousin helped her sell it soon after Deparvine’s conviction. She was too scared to sell the truck on her own because of what happened to her father.

Injected with HIV by dad as baby, teen inspires

 

AP – Brryan Jackson lifts his 5-year-old sister Shannyn Jackson over his head as they play Thursday, June …

By BETSY TAYLOR, Associated Press Writer Betsy Taylor, Associated Press Writer – Sat Jun 6, 9:02 pm ET

ST. CHARLES, Mo. – Brryan Jackson has been left out of birthday party invitations and asked not to use water fountains. His daily routine at one point included 23 pills, three IV medications and two injections. But the toughest part of growing up with AIDS for him may be knowing how he got it.

When he was a baby, his father entered his hospital room and injected a syringe of HIV-tainted blood into his tiny body. At times during his childhood, he was expected to die.

Now 18, he'll put on his black cap and gown Saturday and graduate from Francis Howell North High School in St. Charles, near St. Louis. Shielded from the public for much of his life since his father's high-profile criminal trial a decade ago, Brryan is now an outspoken advocate for people with AIDS, and the power of faith and forgiveness.

"I expect to break the barriers between what people think this virus is, and what it really is," Brryan said Thursday during an interview at his home. "I hope to eliminate a lot of ignorance and change people's minds."

Then he breaks into a few lines from a Lazlo Bane song: "I can't do it all on my own; I'm no Superman."

Brryan's mother, Jennifer Jackson, and his father, Brian Stewart, were together for about two years, off and on, in the early 1990s. After Jackson became pregnant and had the child, Stewart denied he was the father. Paternity tests proved he was.

In 1992, Brryan was 11 months old when he was hospitalized with asthma. After leaving the hospital, he was constantly sick. Doctors ruled out one illness after another.

Finally, in 1996, the child was near death when he was diagnosed with AIDS. But doctors were puzzled about how he got the disease. He wasn't born with it, and had not had blood transfusions. That's when suspicion turned to Stewart.

Stewart worked at a St. Louis hospital as a phlebotomist — his job was drawing blood from patients. Brryan's mother said Stewart came to Brryan's hospital room during that 1992 stay and suggested she go get a bite to eat.

Prosecutors said he had a syringe filled with HIV-tainted blood tucked inside his lab coat. They said he waited until he was alone with the boy and injected him.

There were no witnesses, but at trial in 1998, Jackson and others testified that Stewart had access to tainted blood and previously had threatened to use it as a weapon.

The defense contended the boy could have been infected other ways, perhaps from a medical procedure. But prosecutors argued that Stewart wanted the family out of his life, and didn't want to pay child support.

"Obviously, the first thing is, what a horrible thing to do to a person. And then, how do you do that to your own child?" said Ross Buehler, the former St. Charles County prosecutor who handled the case.

Stewart was convicted of first-degree assault and received the maximum sentence, life in prison. At sentencing, Judge Ellsworth Cundiff said he was in the same category as "the worst war criminal" and added, "I believe when God finally calls you, you are going to burn in hell from here to eternity."

To distance himself from his father — and to protect his identity growing up — Brryan changed his name from "Brian." He has not been in contact with Stewart but said he has forgiven him.

"God wants us to forgive people," he said. "Am I going to make myself as low as he is? ... I've got to be the better person."

Stewart, now 42, remains in a Missouri prison and is eligible for parole in two years. He declined to be interviewed for this story and said he did not wish to have an attorney comment on his behalf.

Buehler said he occasionally talks to Jennifer Jackson and called Brryan courageous for his AIDS education work. "He's a remarkable kid," Buehler said.

In many ways, Brryan is a typical teen. He became a cheerleader after his sister dared him to try out for the squad; he's learning how to play the guitar.

With improvements in AIDS treatment, he's down to just five medications these days. He said at his last doctor's visit, they didn't draw blood because he has overall been in good health.

Still, he has missed long stretches of school battling AIDS and admits that some days, it's hard to get out of bed.

Friends say Brryan is known for talking animatedly with his hands and making people laugh. And he's fiercely loyal.

Kendra Sontag, 16, said if she has a bad day, Bryyan will often show up at her door to make sure she's all right. His sunny outlook has made her a stronger person, Sontag said.

"He could be mad forever but he chooses to forgive, because that's what God would do," she said.

Brryan's also quite a flirt.

"He likes to hit on the ladies, I'm afraid," Sontag said.

That's where the stigma of his disease can crop up. Sontag said at least one girl has been told to stop talking to Brryan by parents worried about their daughter's involvement with a boy with AIDS.

As always, Brryan moves ahead. He plans to eventually go to college, and hopes one day to go into politics, but for the upcoming months, he'll spend his time advocating for others with AIDS.

Brryan has started a nonprofit called Hope Is Vital. He will work this summer with Project Kindle, a Valencia, Calif.-based organization that sponsors summer camps for children affected by the disease. He also serves as a speaker with that group and a St. Peters, Mo.-based ministry, Upward Bound Ministries.

Project Kindle's founder, Eva Payne, said when Brryan first started attending Camp Kindle seven years ago, he was shy and frequently cried.

"Every year, he was a little more confident," she said. And when another girl broke down a few years ago, because she was having trouble talking about being HIV-positive, Brryan offered his support.

"He said he can be her voice, until she's ready," Payne recalled.

'Doctor' not in the house; he's in jail

Suspect allegedly prescribed pot, claimed to be 'sexologist'

Antelope Valley Press
Friday, June 5, 2009.

By DAISY RATZLAFF
Valley Press Staff Writer

PALMDALE - A Palmdale man who deputies said posed as a surgeon, doctor and "sexologist" was arrested Wednesday on suspicion of illegally prescribing medical marijuana, sheriff's officials said Thursday.

Michael Rene Washington, 30, was arrested when deputies on a bicycle patrol found him standing outside a duplex apartment bearing a sign on its door reading: "Medical Marijuana Evaluations and Recommendations, 10:00 AM - 5:30 PM, Mon - Sun, In Compliance with Prop 215 and Senate Bill 240, Compassionate Patient Resources," sheriff's officials said.

"He was posing as a doctor to sell certificates for medical marijuana," said Sgt. Ron Maples of the Palmdale Partners Against Crime team. "He was also charging $150 an hour as a sexologist."

Washington was booked on suspicion of practicing medicine without a license and possession of marijuana. He has been charged with petty theft with a prior offense and practicing medicine without a license, authorities said.

Washington apparently sold the medical marijuana certificates for $25 each, said Sgt. Kyle Bistline of the PAC team.

Bistline said some of the falsified certificates Washington provided to patients have been accepted at medical marijuana dispensaries.

Not knowing the number of certificates Washington has sold, detectives are looking for people who have purchased them from him. Bistline said people who paid for the forms are victims of petty theft.

Deputies said they found numerous plaques bearing Washington's name hanging on the walls. One said Washington was a "Doctor of Sexology" with a degree from a school in England and another said he earned a medical degree in 2008 from an institution called "Vassor University," deputies said.

During questioning by deputies, Washington said he was a doctor but did not have a license to practice in California.

"We asked if he can prove that he is a doctor, and he told us that we can go online and print out the certificate," Bistline said.

Washington also allegedly was selling forms asserting he was the attending physician of certificate holders so they could get medical marijuana, Bistline said.

Deputies pedaled to the duplex in the 500 block of East Avenue Q-5 about 2 p.m. Wednesday after Palmdale Building and Safety investigators asked them to check the property, which has been targeted by vandals and trespassers. The duplex has not been certified for occupancy, officials said.

The deputies discovered a woman standing in a driveway and Washington a few steps away.

Code enforcement officers secured the house, which is unfit to be occupied, authorities said.

Washington was booked at Palmdale Sheriff's Station and is held in lieu of $20,000 bail.

Gurnee grandma gets diploma at 90

Depression-era woes forced her out of school

As a teenager during the Great Depression, Eleanor Benz, now 90, watched her parents struggle to provide for seven children.

In her senior year at Chicago Public Schools' Lake View High, Benz dropped out of school to help.

"It was turn your paycheck over, keep a couple of dollars for yourself. Then with getting married and raising kids, I never did go back."

Fifteen children, 54 grandchildren and 37 great-grandchildren later, last week she received the sacrificed diploma from Lake View along with a yearbook from her sophomore year, 1934, and her registration records from 1936 -- items discovered by Lake View's school secretary.

"I was overwhelmed by it all," Benz said.

Eleanor Benz, 90, received her high school diploma on May 30. Right, Benz at 18.

Born in Chicago on May 23, 1919, Benz was raised in the Lake View neighborhood. She worked for several years after leaving school, then married John F. Benz, a young printing apprentice, in 1941 before moving to Mundelein.

"I had 15 children within a span of 23 years, but I always had a book in my hands," Benz said.

She later went to night school for typing and bookkeeping, but still, no high school diploma. It was on the eve of her 90th birthday that her children learned what had always nagged their mother.

"One of my sisters was writing a paper about the Depression and (she) interviewed Mom," Benz' daughter, Laurie Harrington, said. "When she asked what Mom's greatest disappointment was, she answered, 'Having to quit school a half year before I would have graduated.' "

Her children contacted Lake View, reaching Karen Siciliano -- herself a 1961 Lake View graduate.

"The school secretary took this on as a mission," Harrington said.

"I thought, 'What a wonderful thing for these kids to try to grant their mother's wish'," Siciliano said. "I started searching the archives and finally found her in the 1934 yearbook. It turns out she was only a few months shy of graduation."

Apprised of the situation, the school's principal approved Benz' diploma. And because the 2009 class was graduating, there were extra caps and gowns around. One was sent -- with a 1936 tassel -- and a wooden replica of Lake View in the 1930s.

All were presented to Benz at her 90th birthday party on May 30.

"She put the cap on immediately," Harrington said.

"I was ecstatic," Benz said. "My diploma is dated Feb. 1, 1936, and signed by Olice Winter. He was the principal then. I feel blessed. Although, you know nowadays, even a high-school graduation isn't enough. You need to go to college."

THE ASSOCIATED PRESS
Published: June 4, 2009

MANSFIELD, Mass. - A bankrupt Massachusetts medical device maker left behind some gruesome assets when it shut down earlier this year.

Innovative Spinal Technologies lists nine human bodies, including “eight previously used” cadavers, among its property in a federal bankruptcy filing.

Federal bankruptcy trustee Warren Agin told The Sun Chronicle of Attleboro that the bodies are frozen in the company’s former headquarters and do not pose a public health threat. He said arrangements for proper disposal are being made.

The Mansfield-based company made tools for minimally invasive back surgery, and the bodies are kept in an area where doctors were trained to use the devices.

The company shut down in February and filed for Chapter 7 bankruptcy last month.

Link To Video:ttp://www.turnto10.com/jar/news/local/article/bankrupt_company_leaves_behind_cadavers/14221/

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8 lottery winners who lost their millions

By Bankrate.com

For a lot of people, winning the lottery is the American dream. But for many lottery winners, the reality is more like a nightmare.

"Winning the lottery isn't always what it's cracked up to be," says Evelyn Adams, who won the New Jersey lottery not just once, but twice (1985, 1986), to the tune of $5.4 million. Today the money is all gone and Adams lives in a trailer.

"I won the American dream but I lost it, too. It was a very hard fall. It's called rock bottom," says Adams.

"Everybody wanted my money. Everybody had their hand out. I never learned one simple word in the English language -- 'No.' I wish I had the chance to do it all over again. I'd be much smarter about it now," says Adams, who also lost money at the slot machines in Atlantic City.

"I was a big-time gambler," admits Adams. "I didn't drop a million dollars, but it was a lot of money. I made mistakes, some I regret, some I don't. I'm human. I can't go back now so I just go forward, one step at a time."

Living on food stamps

William "Bud" Post won $16.2 million in the Pennsylvania lottery in 1988 but now lives on his Social Security.

"I wish it never happened. It was totally a nightmare," says Post.

A former girlfriend successfully sued him for a share of his winnings. It wasn't his only lawsuit. A brother was arrested for hiring a hit man to kill him, hoping to inherit a share of the winnings. Other siblings pestered him until he agreed to invest in a car business and a restaurant in Sarasota, Fla., -- two ventures that brought no money back and further strained his relationship with his siblings.

Post even spent time in jail for firing a gun over the head of a bill collector. Within a year, he was $1 million in debt.

Post admitted he was both careless and foolish, trying to please his family. He eventually declared bankruptcy.

Now he lives quietly on $450 a month and food stamps.

"I'm tired, I'm over 65 years old, and I just had a serious operation for a heart aneurysm. Lotteries don't mean (anything) to me," says Post.

Deeper in debt

Suzanne Mullins won $4.2 million in the Virginia lottery in 1993. Now she's deeply in debt to a company that lent her money using the winnings as collateral.

 She borrowed $197,746.15, which she agreed to pay back with her yearly checks from the Virginia lottery through 2006. When the rules changed allowing her to collect her winnings in a lump sum, she cashed ithe remaining amount. But she stopped making payments on the loan.

She blamed the debt on the lengthy illness of her uninsured son-in-law, who needed $1 million for medical bills.

Mark Kidd, the Roanoke, Va., lawyer who represented the Singer Asset Finance Company who sued Mullins, confirms her plight. He won a judgment for the company against Mullins for $154,147 last May, but they have yet to collect a nickel.

"My understanding is she has no assets," says Kidd.

Back to the basics

Ken Proxmire was a machinist when he won $1 million in the Michigan lottery. He moved to California and went into the car business with his brothers. Within five years, he had filed for bankruptcy.

"He was just a poor boy who got lucky and wanted to take care of everybody," explains Ken's son Rick.

"It was a hell of a good ride for three or four years, but now he lives more simply. There's no more talk of owning a helicopter or riding in limos. We're just everyday folk. Dad's now back to work as a machinist," says his son.

Willie Hurt of Lansing, Mich., won $3.1 million in 1989. Two years later he was broke and charged with murder. His lawyer says Hurt spent his fortune on a divorce and crack cocaine.

Charles Riddle of Belleville, Mich., won $1 million in 1975. Afterward, he got divorced, faced several lawsuits and was indicted for selling cocaine.

Missourian Janite Lee won $18 million in 1993. Lee was generous to a variety of causes, giving to politics, education and the community. But according to published reports, eight years after winning, Lee had filed for bankruptcy with only $700 left in two bank accounts and no cash on hand.

One Southeastern family won $4.2 million in the early '90s. They bought a huge house and succumbed to repeated family requests for help in paying off debts.

The house, cars and relatives ate the whole pot. Eleven years later, the couple is divorcing, the house is sold and they have to split what is left of the lottery proceeds. The wife got a very small house. The husband has moved in with the kids. Even the life insurance they bought ended up getting cashed in.

"It was not the pot of gold at the end of the rainbow," says their financial advisor.

Luck is fleeting

These sad-but-true tales are not uncommon, say the experts.

 "For many people, sudden money can cause disaster," says Susan Bradley, a certified financial planner in Palm Beach, Fla., and founder of the Sudden Money Institute, a resource center for new money recipients and their advisors.

"In our culture, there is a widely held belief that money solves problems. People think if they had more money, their troubles would be over. When a family receives sudden money, they frequently learn that money can cause as many problems as it solves," she says.

Craig Wallace, a senior funding officer for a company that buys lottery annuity payments in exchange for lump sums, agrees.

"Going broke is a common malady, particularly with the smaller winners. Say you've won $1 million. What you've really won is a promise to be paid $50,000 a year. People win and they think they're millionaires. They go out and buy houses and cars and before they know it, they're in way over their heads," he says.

Are you really a 'millionaire'?

Part of the problem is that the winners buy into the hype.

"These people believe they are millionaires. They buy into the hype, but most of these people will go to their graves without ever becoming a millionaire," says Wallace, who has been in the business for almost a decade.

"In New Jersey, they manipulate the reality of the situation to sell more tickets. Each winner takes a picture with a check that becomes a 3-foot by 5-foot stand-up card. The winner is photographed standing next to a beautiful woman and the caption reads: 'New Jersey's newest millionaire.'"

Winning plays a game with your head

Bradley, who authored "Sudden Money: Managing a Financial Windfall," says winners get into trouble because they fail to address the emotional connection to the windfall.

 "There are two sides to money. The interior side is the psychology of money and the family relationship to money. The exterior side is the tax codes, the money allocation, etc.""The goal is to integrate the two. People who can't integrate their interior relationship with money appropriately are more likely to crash and burn," says Bradley.

"Often they can keep the money and lose family and friends -- or lose the money and keep the family and friends -- or even lose the money and lose the family and friends."

Bill Pomeroy, a certified financial planner in Baton Rouge, La., has dealt with a number of lottery winners who went broke.

"Because the winners have a large sum of money, they make the mistake of thinking they know what they're doing. They are willing to plunk down large sums on investments they know nothing about or go in with a partner who may not know how to run a business."

What if you get so (un)lucky?

To offset some bad early decision-making and the inevitable requests of friends, relatives and strangers, Bradley recommends lottery winners start by setting up a DFZ or decision-free zone.

"Take time out from making any financial decisions," she says. "Do this right away. For some people, it's smart to do it before you even get your hands on the money.

"People who are not used to having money are fragile and vulnerable, and there are plenty of people out there who are willing to prey on that vulnerability -- even friends and family," she cautions.

"It's not a time to decide what stocks to buy or jump into a new house purchase or new business venture.

"It's a time to think things through, sort things out and seek an advisory team to help make those important financial choices."

As an example, Bradley says that people who come into a windfall will typically put buying a house as No. 1 in list of 12 choices, while investing is No. 11.

"You really don't want to buy a new house before taking the time to think about what the consequences are.

"A lot of people who don't have money don't realize how much it costs to live in a big house -- decorators, furniture, taxes, insurance, even utility costs are greater. People need a reality check before they sign the contract," she says.

Evelyn Adams, the N.J. lottery double-winner, learned these lessons the hard way.

"There are a lot of people out there like me who don't know how to deal with money," laments Adams. "Hey, some people went broke in six months. At least I held on for a few years."

High on the hog: Slaughtered pig traded for crack, Syracuse police say

Robert A. Baker

The Post-Standard

Friday June 05, 2009, 3:44 PM

Syracuse, NY -- A Fulton resident was arrested Thursday for drug possession after police witnessed a drug transaction that was paid for, in part, with a half of a slaughtered pig, Syracuse police said.

Police were conducting surveillance about 7:40 p.m. in the 200 block of Merriman Avenue when they saw the two men conduct a drug transaction including the half of pig, Lt. Joe Cecile said.

The half of pig and $10 were used to buy a $50 bag of crack cocaine, police said.

The accused buyer, Angelo Colon, 45, of 303 Honeyhill Road, Fulton, was charged with criminal possession of a controlled substance, a misdemeanor. Colon told police this was not the first time he drove into Syracuse with a slaughtered pig to trade for drugs, Cecile said.

The accused seller, Omar Veliz, 42, of 232 Merriman Ave., was charged with criminal sale of a controlled substance, a felony. Veliz also was charged with a felony and a misdemeanor charge of criminal possession of a controlled substance.

Veliz told police the pig was for a celebration for a relative being released from jail, Cecile said.

As police arrested the pair, a crowd gathered around them. When the officers turned from the suspects, the pig was gone, Cecile said.

SD rancher wins $232 million jackpot

 

AP – Neal Wanless, 23, reads a statement

 as he claims a $232 million Powerball lottery prize,

 Friday, June 5, 2009  5:12 PM 

CHET BROKAW

 Associated Press Writer

PIERRE, S.D. – If this were a movie, nobody would believe it: A rancher struggling to eke out a living in one of the poorest corners of America claimed one of the biggest undivided jackpots in U.S. lottery history Friday — $232 million — after buying the ticket in a town by the name of Winner.

Neal Wanless, 23, said he intends to buy himself more room to roam and repay the kindness other townspeople have shown his family.

"I want to thank the Lord for giving me this opportunity and blessing me with this great fortune. I will not squander it," he promised, wearing a big black cowboy hat and a huge grin.

Wanless, who is single, lives with his mother and father on the family's 320-acre ranch near Mission, where they raise cattle, sheep and horses. They don't own a phone, a mobile home of theirs was repossessed last year, and records show they have fallen $3,552 behind in their property taxes.

Wanless bought $15 worth of tickets to the May 27 30-state Powerball drawing at a convenience store in Winner during a trip to buy livestock feed. He will take home a lump sum of $88.5 million after taxes are deducted.

The Wanless home stands in a grove of trees in Todd County, home to the Rosebud Sioux Tribe. It was the nation's seventh-poorest county in 2007, according to the Census Bureau.

Dave Assman, who owns farmland next to the Wanless ranch, said he is happy the family won't have to worry about money any more. "They've been real short on finances for a long time," Assman said. "They are from real meager means, I guess you'd say."

"I hope they enjoy their money," said county assessor Cathy Vrbka, a family friend. "They work hard, backbreaking hard work."

Wanless' father, Arlen Wanless, 54, has made a living in recent years mainly by buying and selling scrap metal, but his fortunes dropped with the price of iron, said Dan Clark, an auctioneer from Winner and a friend of more than two decades.

The younger Wanless told lottery officials that he spent the last week working on the ranch and that he intends to continue that lifestyle, albeit on a larger piece of land. According to lottery officials, he recently told his horse, Eleanor, "It'd be nice if we go for a longer ride than usual on a bigger ranch of our own."

"My family has been helped by the community, and I intend to repay that help many times over," Wanless said. He gave no details.

An Oregon family turned $40 worth of tickets into $340 million Powerball prize in 2005, and at least four other winners collected larger jackpots than Wanless' prize.

The store where Wanless bought the winning ticket will get a $50,000 bonus. Sharon Ulmer, manager of the store, said she is glad the Wanless family won.

"From what I understand they don't have a lot, so the money definitely went to a good place," Ulmer said. "I know it went to a good home. They can use it."

Garage break-in leads to largest-ever Matteson pot bust 

For one married Matteson couple, their second house wasn't a ritzy vacation home on a lake or a piece of property to be rented out for some extra monthly cash.

Instead, their unassuming second home 1 1/2 miles away was left vacant. Except for the nearly 500 pounds of marijuana hidden away in the garage, uncovered after two thieves broke in and stole half the drugs, leading police on a chase.

Evlicia Jackson-Long, 30, and Roy Long, 32, of 21301 Barn Owl Drive, were charged with felony possession of marijuana and distribution of marijuana after investigators turned up the stash, police said.

Police said that although the couple lived at their Barn Owl Drive residence with their three children, they used the second home in the 6200 block of Streamwood Lane to hide their drugs.

The investigation began after a neighbor spotted two men breaking into the Streamwood Lane garage about 1 p.m. May 1 and called police, police said.

When an officer arrived on the scene, the men fled in a Buick LaSabre, leaving a gallon-sized bag of marijuana between the garage's door and storm door, police said.

Police pursued the men, and Matteson police Sgt. Tom Johnson pulled the car over on Interstate 57, south of the Lincoln Highway exit.

Inside the vehicle, officers discovered clear bags and cardboard boxes containing about 237 pounds of marijuana, police said.

The men in the car, Antoinne Kelly, 29, 829 White Oak Lane, University Park, and Anthony Morris, 41, 1530 Fifth Ave., Chicago Heights, were charged with felony possession of marijuana, police said.

"They heard from someone that there was some major weed in there, some major weight," Matteson police Detective Michael Jones said.

After the arrest, police searched the garage and found an additional 235 pounds of marijuana, as well as empty cardboard boxes, packaging tape, digital scales and a marijuana-cutting machine.

The couple was arrested and charged on May 15.

Police said the seized pot had a value of between $400,000 and $600,000. The marijuana did not appear to come from any drug cartel outside of the United States.

Police officials said it was the largest seizure of marijuana in the history of Matteson.

According to police, the couple were operating a marijuana packaging business within the residence.

"Sooner or later, you're going to get caught," Matteson police Sgt. Jeremy Sims said. "It's better not to get involved. Greed had a lot to do with it."

Arvin said the investigation "still has many avenues."

"There may be additional charges in the future depending where the investigation goes," he said.

James McMillan, paralyzed in S.I. Ferry accident, wants his lawyer to get full fee

John Marzulli
DAILY NEWS STAFF WRITER

Wednesday, June 3rd 2009, 12:59 PM

Ward for News

James McMillan, a surviving victim of the Staten Island ferry crash, wants to give his lawyer his full fee.

Take my money, please!

Believe it or not, that was the plea Wednesday from a former fish market worker who got $18 million from the city after being paralyzed in the Staten Island ferry accident.

James McMillan was back in Brooklyn Federal Court on Wednesday, urging a magistrate to reverse another judge's ruling which reduced his lawyer's fee by $2.5 million.

If lawyer Evan Torgan's fee of one-third of the settlement is restored, the money would come out of McMillan's pocket - but that suits him fine.

"I don't need that extra," McMillan said. "I want him to have it. He worked for it."

McMillan suffered a broken neck on Oct. 15, 2003, when the Andrew J. Barberi ferry crashed into a concrete pier, killing 11 passengers and injuring scores of others.

The city settled 146 cases - but Torgan told Mayor Bloomberg to stick his $10 million offer and gambled on a trial.

A federal jury awarded McMillan $22.9 million in September. Judge Jack Weinstein reduced it to an $18 million settlement and cut Torgan's fee to 20%.

The judge expressed concerns that McMillan didn't understand the retainer he signed in his hospital bed only four days after the catastrophic accident.

"If I could only tell the judge this man [Torgan] did a great job for me and I'm satisfied," said McMillan, who sported a fancy ring and massive watch.

"There's a hundred lawyers on TV saying, 'I'm the best,' but this man has walked with me through many things people wouldn't understand.

"He said, 'James I'm your lawyer' and I needed that comfort."

After McMillan signed with Torgan, he turned away the legendary Johnnie Cochran when he showed up at his hospital bedside.

McMillan's brother Tyrone testified that he explained to the victim that he didn't have to fork over the extra fee.

"I told him this is the jungle lawyers work in, but he said it was the right thing to do because he agreed to it and should honor it," said Tyrone McMillan.

Read more: http://www.nydailynews.com/ny_local/2009/06/03/2009-06-03_james_mcmillan_paralyzed_in_si_ferry_accident_wants_his_lawyer_to_get_full_fee.html#ixzz0HZ6JqCLD&C

Peter Smith

Courier-Journal

Louisville, Kentucky

June 3, 2009

Orlando homeowner includes Rolls Royce in sale

| Sentinel Staff Writer June 4, 2009

Jim Benson has been trying to sell his house in a historic district of downtown Orlando for about a year and a half. His asking price for the house is $699,000, and now he hopes his offer to include a 1967 Rolls-Royce will attract a buyer. (Tom Burton, Orlando Sentinel / May 29, 2009)

 

Selling a house in today's foreclosure-underpinned market is difficult for anyone: On average, Orlando-area homes took more than three months to sell in April, compared with less than a month at the height of the buying frenzy in July 2005, according to figures kept by local Realtors. Owners of custom homes have to work even harder to lure qualified buyers.

Realtor Margaret Barnes said the number of showings at the Benson house has increased in recent weeks, though she was unsure whether the car had anything to do with it.

Home sellers have given away cars before. Cambridge Homes, for instance, has tossed in a Mini Cooper with a purchase. But the keys to a chauffeur-worthy Rolls?

Benson knows he's competing against houses with furnishings staged by interior designers. His son has told him that buyers want granite counter tops and luxury master suites. Benson's yellow-brick, columned house at Broadway Avenue and Concord Street has none of those things.Both the house and the car, however, share a more understated appeal.

The four-story home rests on dense, fortresslike wooden beams that weigh more than cast concrete. Its long-hewn floor planks dwarf today's laminates.

Similarly, the 40-year-old car has no halogen headlights or LCD screens, but the back seat smells like hand-tooled leather from prized cowhide. The doors shut with a vacuum-seal sound rather than a metallic clang. The engine of the 2-ton behemoth, Benson said, runs so well that it "has never had a wrench touch it."

Benson said he first fell in love with the car of British royalty in the mid-1960s, when he was stationed with the U.S. Navy in Scotland and on temporary assignment in London. Four years after returning to the States, he still longed for the classic auto and went back for one. In England, he found a used 1967 Shadow in good condition for $12,000. After paying $1,000 for shipping, it was his. Silver Shadows, produced in greater numbers than other Rolls lines, retail today from less than $20,000 to $50,000 each.

For about eight years, Benson's collectible has been garaged at his son's home in Kissimmee. Tom Benson tools around the neighborhood in it each week to keep it in good condition. Even when Jim Benson kept it near him in Orlando, the regal set of wheels was cloistered in his garage.

"I didn't tell many people I owned it because people get the wrong idea — that you're rich," he said. "Better to play it low key."

Benson said he still prizes the quality of both the car and the house, but he no longer drives the one, and his knees complain about the flights of stairs in the other.

"I don't have a need for the house. I don't have a need for the car," Benson said. "But I've never fallen out of love with them."

(Tom Burton, Orlando Sentinel / May 29, 2009)