From the McDougough County Voice, reprinted with permission of its author Will Buss, now on the faculty of Western Illinois University:

Clemency? I beg your pardon

I have always maintained a healthy suspicion of Rod Blagojevich. From the time he entered his first gubernatorial race in 2002, I’ve questioned his intentions.

Blagojevich burst onto the political scene as a self-proclaimed man of the people. As the son a Serbian immigrant steel worker in Chicago, Blagojevich campaigned on this narrative and image of a self-made man. He worked odd jobs as a teen to help his family, went to college and then law school, before he was appointed to serve as a Cook County prosecutor.

He married the daughter of former Chicago alderman and then, with help from his father-in-law, managed to win a seat in the Illinois House and unseat a 14-year incumbent.

Four years later, Blagojevich ran and won a seat in the U.S. House, again, with a little help from his father-in-law.

That seat had long been held by Dan Rostenkowski, who had lost it two years earlier when he plead guilty to mail fraud. Blagojevich was re-elected twice to the House, where he was not particularly known as an active member of Congress.

When he announced his candidacy for the governor of Illinois, all I could see was a candidate who had been a byproduct of Chicago politics.

He also seemed to be the lesser of the other Democrats who were running.

Both former Illinois Attorney General Roland Burris and Chicago Public Schools Superintendent and Western Illinois University alumnus Paul Vallas seemed more accomplished.

Both certainly had more experience and seemed more worthy candidates for the Democratic nomination.

Although Blagojevich had served a term in the state capital and three more in Congress, his service was not exactly distinguished nor did his resume include any noteworthy actions or leadership.

However, he did travel to Belgrade with Jesse Jackson to negotiate the release of prisoners of war, but he also was one of 81 House Democrats in Congress to authorize then-President George W. Bush and his administration’s invasion of Iraq in October 2002.

The following month, Blagojevich won election to the Illinois governor’s office.

He defeated Republican Illinois Attorney General Jim Ryan, who shared the same last name as incumbent Republican Gov. George Ryan.

George Ryan had been embroiled in his own scandal before the election and elected not to run for re-election after one term.

He would eventually be sentenced and served almost six years in prison, becoming Illinois’ third former governor to serve time behind bars.

Soon, there would be fourth.

My first encounter with Gov. Blagojevich was the day after his election in November 2002.

He traveled to southwestern Illinois, where several of his supporters and many of us reporters were waiting for him.

We waited for him at a metro-east St. Louis airport, where he arrived with his staff and he personally thanked the southern Illinois voters, whom the Chicago Democrat credited for his win in the primary and then the election.

My initial impression of him that day was that of an overachiever who was setting out to change the state’s politics.

He seemed charismatic and engaging with the public in making pledges as the newly elected governor and joking about being a Chicagoan who secretly rooted for the St. Louis Cardinals.

The next time I encountered him was when he traveled back to the metro-east for another press conference held outdoors near an industrial complex.

He was there to announce new legislation.

He was two hours late.

We reporters were told that he and another state representative from the area had spent that time at a nearby cantina and bar.

When he arrived, Blagojevich enthusiastically welcomed the press, made his announcement, followed his remarks with the same joke about his secret fanfare for St. Louis baseball, uttered the same talking points that he would often repeat during his time in office, answered a few reporters’ questions, and then left, all within a few minutes.

Whatever initial impression I had of him had worn away by this visit.

The third and final time I covered a Blagojevich press conference was inside a steel mill, where he was to announce a state initiative for Illinois workers.

By this time, scandal had emerged and begun to infect the governor’s office. This press conference became an opportunity to ask the governor about allegations that he had offered to sell then-President Obama’s vacated seat in the U.S. Senate for the governor’s political gain.

Blagojevich denied the allegations that day and for days thereafter.

He made the same talking points and lame jokes, before quickly leaving the scene and press corps skeptical of his proclaimed innocence.

It came to no surprise to me when Blagojevich was arrested at his home one morning in December 2008.

A month later, he became the first Illinois governor to be impeached.

He was later sentenced to 14 years in prison.

Blagojevich and his family had attempted, but failed, to appeal his conviction in 2015 and 2016.

Last week, President Trump commuted Blagojevich’s sentence, after the former governor had served almost eight years of his sentence.

This commutation has not rendered any trace of remorse by the disgraced former governor.

Soon after his release from prison, in an interview last week with Anderson Cooper, Blagojevich had the gall to refer to himself as a “political prisoner,” despite the unquestionable evidence against him.

It is painfully obvious that Blagojevich has still not learned from his crimes. Last week’s political pardon was unjustified and only sets a precedent for other elected leaders who are looking to seek undeserved clemency or leniency.

Will Buss teaches broadcasting and journalism at Western Illinois University.