Chicago By CHARLES B. CLEVELAND

OVER the years, Illinois has had its scandals — Paul Powell's shoebox, Orville Hodge's dipping into the state till, the Chicago aldermen brought to trial by then U.S. Attorney Jim Thompson. Now, there's a trial implicating the Chicago Metropolitan Sanitary District in another scandal.

But in researching the "good old days" through faded newspaper clips and interviews with veterans, the Chicago Sanitary District and its "Whoopee Era" may never be matched.

To set the scene: The district was formed around the turn of the century to handle the city sewage which flowed into Lake Michigan, which was also the source of city water. The solution, one of the engineering marvels of the world, was to reverse the flow of the Chicago River, build new channels, process the waste and send it downstream. But this solution angered some downstate areas through which this "water" ran and also generated disputes with Canada and neighboring states over diverting water from Lake Michigan. It also produced a lot of rumors that began to surface in 1926.

There were charges that one politician had stolen 30 tons of coal, that the district had more lawyers than the U.S. Justice Department and that the city's Democratic boss had made a half million dollars selling insurance to the Sanitary District. The charges were written off as campaign oratory, but two years later the district's board of trustees were deadlocked between Democrats and two rival GOP factions and a nonpolitician businessman wound up chairman. For the first time in years, the payroll and other records were open for inspection.

Four miles of highway had been built along the north channel at a cost of $2 million which was eight times the normal cost. Each highway light had cost $1,000, and more than $1 million had been spent on a bridle path which was still unfinished.

The district was paying $1.35 a cubic yard to have cinders hauled away from one of its plants. They were indeed hauled away and dumped, but then they were picked up by another truck and sold back to the district for the bridle path.

At least 60 members of the Illinois legislature were on the payroll. One had a job to watch an area from Wacker Drive to Chicago Avenue to see that nobody tossed garbage into the Chicago River. Another was a chief investigator who explained his duties: "You have a lot of investigators under you that you send out to investigate."

One woman said she was on the law department payroll for $200 a month.

Question: "Where did you meet your sponsor?"

Answer: "I met him at a dinner party."

Question: "Where?"

Answer: "In my hotel."

Question: "Did you do any work?"

Answer: "No."

Question: "Did you ever speak to your sponsor because there was no work for you?"

Answer: "1 never saw him again."

A water meter surveyor said he wrote essays as part of his duties. "We wrote on Sanitary District matters and we also wrote on the flag. We wrote on the flag 'cause that would let you know what you were working under."

One employee went to Europe and while there received $275 a month, plus expenses, for investigating floods in Peoria, Illinois. So many persons on the payroll testified they took trips to Beardstown that the Daily News sent Reporter Clem Lane down to check. He found out that every once in awhile (usually in the duck hunting season) an investigator or two would drop by. There had been one touch of economy the year before. The general rule had been to automatically approve $100 a week expense accounts, but District President Tim Crowe told the department heads, "Try to keep these expenses down." After that they cut the fake expense account to $50 a week.

To get around a rule limiting purchases to $500, they simply wrote out 26 vouchers to cover one small project. One legislator's trucking firm did so much business, it was embarrassing to find the name so often. So he solved the problem by creating a second company.

One contract called for $198,000 in metal cables. They were installed along the banks from Chicago to Lockport so that anyone that fell in could rescue themselves. Just to make self-rescue a certainty, ladders were built every 250 feet. There is no record that the cables or ladders were ever used. Investigators found bills for more than $100,000 in auto rentals, but a duplicate set of books covered the same bills although cars were not mentioned. Instead, they were listed for other items including whiskey.

A series of indictments resulted, but a funny thing happened on the way to trial. One judge refused to hear the case because he had a California vacation scheduled. It also turned out he had a son who was on the Sanitary District payroll but had never done any work. A second judge dismissed three of nine counts but a few months later withdrew from the case on the grounds the defendants were longtime friends.

Finally, three years later there was a trial. In the interim two trustees had died. Three trustees were found not guilty, and Tim Crowe was found guilty, but died during appeals that went on for nine years.

The Whoopee Era scandal simply died of old age.

34/ December 1977/ Illinois Issues