If George Ryan doesn't rot in jail he will surely burn in hell.

I'm not much of a believer in Christian dogma actually. Rather, I believe that we make our own Heaven and Hell in our final moments. As we feel the life slip out of us and look back on what that life has been, the brain in its ineffable way stretches those moments out into the oft-mentioned life flashing before our eyes. In those moments -- which may seem like an eternety -- we review what we have done and left undone. Those of us who do believe or who at least possess a positive uncertainty about the literal existence of Heaven and Hell must certainly go through throes of agony regarding our possible Judgement pefore a possible Almighty.

Thus, when the day finally comes that I hear former Illinois Governor, George Ryan, has at last shuffled his ponderous mortal coil off the face of a protesting Earth, I will grin with the satisfaction of a fine, cold dish of revenge. For I will know that as surely as there is a human bone in his body his last moments were filled with the anguish of a man who knows he is surely damned.

Why do I have such loathing for George Ryan? It is because his ferally corrupt rule killed six of my neices and nephews. On November 8, 1994, my brother-in-law, Scott and my wife's sister, Janet Willis, were driving home from Milwaukee on I-84. Their minivan hit a large iron rear mud flap assembly that had fallen off a truck just ahead of them. The driver, who did not speak English, had not understood several warnings from other truckers over the CB radio. What happened next, in Scott's own words:

I was looking at the road and was alert. Our little baby was behind us; Ben was behind us on the other side. In the back were the other four children; they were all buckled in. I saw the object (a metal brace, 6"x30", 30 lbs.). I thought it was one of those blocks that maybe came off a flatbed truck. The car in front of me swerved, and I knew I couldn't miss hitting the object. I thought if I took it on the tire I might roll the car. It was a split-second decision.

When we hit the object, the rear gas tank exploded, taking the car out of control. I was able to grip the wheel and take the car out of the slide. When we were sliding and the flames were coming around the seat, it was a shock--a surprise--like, 'What is this?' It was just roaring flames coming up on both sides. I was yelling to get out of the car. Janet and I had to consciously put our hands into the flames to unbuckle the seat belts and reach for the door handles.

Janet fell out the door while the car was still moving. Benny was in the midst of the burning; his clothes were mostly burned off by the time he got out. The five youngest children, who had been asleep, died instantly. No sound was heard by Janet or me as we struggled to get out of the van. An unknown man took his shirt off his back to soak Benny's wounds, and another beat out the burning clothes on Janet's back. Benny died in intensive care around midnight.

It was later revealed that the truck driver -- unqualified for a commercial license in Illinois -- had acquired his license through a license-for-bribe scheme whereby trucking companies would get licenses for their unqualified drivers in exchange for money that went through the local Secretary of State employees hands directly to the campaign war-chest of George Ryan.

Ryan has been sentenced to a laughable 6.5 year stretch that in all likelyhood he will never serve a day of. During the pre-sentencing period, Janet and Scott sent a number of letters to U.S. District Judge Rebecca Pallmeyer. Pallmeyer refused to let Janet and Scott make any pre-sentencing statements bit did say that she read them before handing down her sentence.

Today, in the Chicago Tribune, John Kass publishes the Willis' letters.

On Nov. 8, 1994, I voted to re-elect George Ryan as secretary of state to be in charge of road safety. I am a mother. I loved my children, home-schooled them, and with God's help, poured my heart into trying to be the best mother I could be. We were very close. A few hours after that vote was cast, I watched as my children were trapped in an inferno. I have had to ask God to help me to forget the sights and thoughts of that day and all that occurred.

...

Gov. Ryan must have understood as a father what the loss of six young, innocent children meant to Janet and me, yet no personal contact or written contact concerning the accident was ever made. Instead the investigation was terminated and suppressed, and our efforts to investigate were criticized.

Because he was the secretary of state and because of the massive publicity following the accident, he cannot claim ignorance. Thus he bears the ultimate responsibility in the suppression of the investigation.

How could this happen? How could a man, a father, a public servant allow this? What was done was a crime, according to the rule of this court. But the question remains as to the motivation. [Ryan defense attorney Dan Webb] correctly answered this: "It was politics." Thus, decisions concerning life and death were not decided on principle but on politics.

For the vast majority of Americans is it fairly simple to put out of mind the very real, human cost of political venality and stupidity. From the local to the international very few of us ever pay the ultimate price of Machiavellian calculation. But that price is paid, day after day whether it is six innocent children burning to death on the interstate or a young Lebanese boy or girl dying by inches, crushed in the shattered ruins of their home. Of course we all pay in one way or another for poor, misguided or just plain venal public policy but it is usually abstract and simple to dismiss as, politcs-as-usual, whaddyagonnado?. Few Americans have to deal with the literally bloody ruins of a polical scheme gone pear-shaped.

So, in case you ever wondered why I get so worked up about politics in general and George Ryan in particular, now you know. There are also the stories of Russian and Czech political prisoners heard in 1990 and the red-baiting of my grandfather in the 1950's. But those are tales for another day. Suffice it to say that for me, politics is personal.