Death of American Virtue - Ken Gormley [335]
The bearded California lawyer would defend himself, in an op-ed piece published in the Washington Post days after he was replaced, in which he proclaimed: “I Didn’t Get ‘Dumped.’” The accounts from every source other than Ginsburg, however, indicate that he was canned unceremoniously after his handling of Lewinsky’s case became intolerable.
Bernie Lewinsky, father of the former intern who was responsible for paying Monica’s legal bills—until she could pay him back—had become distressed with Ginsburg’s inability to cut a deal for his daughter. The senior Lewinsky had dispatched his medical-malpractice lawyer friend to Washington with the goal of “putting a team together” to save his daughter from the clutches of Ken Starr. In his then-fragile state of mind, Bernie had viewed Ginsburg as “a God-sent rescuer.” Maybe the California attorney wasn’t a criminal lawyer with expertise in this area, Bernie had rationalized, but Ginsburg was a practicing lawyer, who had been thoughtful enough to prescribe vodkas for Bernie on that terrible night when OIC prosecutors had swooped in and grabbed Monica. Ginsburg seemed to be the best available option at that moment. “The way I would equate it,” Monica’s father later explained, “if I was in the middle of Africa and I got appendicitis, I wouldn’t have time to look for a good surgeon.”
Unfortunately, Bernie concluded, Ginsburg now was acting like a control freak and substitute parent, making decisions for Monica that were none of his business. The lawyer was also employing a “divide and conquer” tactic, playing Monica against members of her own family. “He can’t become the father and try to deal with her and treat her as his daughter,” Bernie said, seated on a couch in his fashionable Brentwood home and summarizing his grievances.
Bernie also felt that his former friend had milked the media attention for all he could, often to the family’s detriment. On the first night that Monica had returned to California, for instance, Bernie had selected a “hidden restaurant” and reserved “a special room where we could all sit privately.” As they exited the eatery, hundreds of reporters and photographers “mauled” them, appearing out of the woodwork like cockroaches. Said Dr. Lewinsky, sitting upright: “It turned out Ginsburg called the media to tell them where we were going to be. And he was supposed to be protecting us.”
Bernie was also distressed that, although Bill Ginsburg claimed he had everything under control, Monica was soon being summoned to FBI headquarters in Los Angeles to be fingerprinted like a common criminal. Bernie had driven to the federal building at six A.M.; this experience had rattled him to the core. “I was exposed to a side of the FBI that I had never seen,” he recounted. “I mean, these humungous metal bars that pop up from the ground in the garage (as a security measure) to just block entry, and I got really scared.” Fifty or sixty media trucks were surrounding the perimeter of the building, with hundreds of reporters creating a human wall through which he and Monica had to pass. A wave of anger overcame Bernie and he shouted out, “This is totally un-American; this is not fair! My daughter is not a criminal. This is not right!”
For Bernie, it was especially galling that Monica was being subjected to such treatment when she “had the highest clearance in the Pentagon.” “You don’t work at the Pentagon without a fingerprint,” he declared loudly. “What the hell did Starr need fingerprints for? It was the most intimidating, unreal thing I have ever done.” Agent Fallon of the FBI, assigned to Starr’s detail, had greeted him by saying, “Oh, Doctor Lewinsky, nice to meet you.” Said Bernie, “And I felt like spitting on him.”
After passing through an area with rows of “huge metal gates” and jail cells, Monica was taken