One morning a few weeks ago, Jason Welge was sitting in the cafeteria of the Dirksen Federal Building, explaining his presence there and philosophizing over the law, when Robert Blagojevich approached.
“You are Mr. Consistent,” said the ex-governor’s brother, giving Welge a kindly pat on the shoulder.
Welge looked up from his plate of pastries at a reporter sitting across the table from him, smiled wryly and whispered, “I’ve been labeled by the defense.”
Since the political corruption trial of Rod and Robert Blagojevich began, Welge has joined the cast of regular trial watchers who line up in the morning four days a week for the chance to nab one of the 32 tickets the court issues to the general public for Rod Blagojevich‘s corruption trial. Suffering from cerebral palsy, and thereby wheelchair-bound, Welge stands out in the crowd: He can usually be found in the aisle of the gallery, banked next to the second row bench behind the defense table.
In its all-consuming drama, Welge has become an unwitting supporting actor in the trial’s theater. Rod Blagojevich, who has treated the Dirksen lunch break like the rope line of a political function, has shown a particular tendency to gravitate toward Welge.
Their interaction is filled with irony Blagojevich is sure not to understand: Welge’s presence at the trial speaks to his relationship with the man Blagojevich once defeated for the governorship–former attorney general Jim Ryan.
“My interest in watching trials was specifically in relation to cases like Blagojevich case,” Welge said. “I think the defendant has a right to a public trial, and therefore society almost has an obligation to observe such matters.”
It was Ryan, his mentor, who inspired this conviction.
Welge wakes up each court day at 5:15 a.m., boards the 6:05 train in La Grange headed to Union station, takes the bus to the Dirksen building to arrive by 7 a.m., just as the doors are opening.
When Welge, 25, went off to college at Benedictine University in Lisle, he took a legal course his first semester taught by Ryan, a distinguished fellow at the college. The school required professors to sign agreements with disabled students, which would grant them certain accessibilities. Welge remembers Ryan asking if he wanted to sign the agreement after class one day, or meet about it in his office. Welge chose the meeting, and a mentorship was born.
Welge took about five of Ryan’s classes before graduating, and Ryan was one of two faculty members Welge chose to anoint him during his senior “hooding” ceremony.
“This is the sort of man who would give you the clothes off his back to make sure you did well in his class,” Welge said of his former professor.
Both men are awed by the other’s capacity for resilience.
“He really has a lot of guts,” Ryan says of Welge. “Can you imagine getting up every day and facing the world in a wheelchair?”
Ryan wouldn’t comment on the Blagojevich case.
Welge marvels about how Ryan has persevered through three bouts with cancer, his son’s suicide, and his wife’s near-fatal heart attack.
“How can he do that,” says Welge, “unless you have the stamina that he has? I think the answer is we inspire each other and I think that is the way with anybody. Anybody can be an inspiration to anybody else. So I think you have to decide what you want to do in life, and you can find plenty of role models to help you do it.”
Following his graduation, Ryan set his student up with his old law partner, Jack Darrah, now a U.S. District Court judge, who has hosted Welge on several occasions for trials in his courtroom.
“The magic of a federal trial is that it is complex,” said Welge. “You are watching something you aren’t going to watch at [the Cook County court at] 26th and California.”
Beyond just an appreciation for the experience, there is an additional reason for Welge’s courtroom watching. He anticipates applying to law school next year and he is learning by observing.
“I think observing trials is something you have to do before you go to law school if you think you really want to practice law,” Welge said.
He has not given much thought to the practical implications of how his disability will play into a courtroom setting, but he is not unwilling to consider it.
“How is a jury going to view a physically challenged person?” Welge said. “How are some judges going to view a physically challenged person? But I think if there is prejudice at all – and I have not seen it from the judges I have observed – you deal with it the way you normally deal with it, and that is to convince people that you have what it takes.”