"Justice has come to court today," Bill Janklow's daughter said in the Flandreau, S.D., courtroom Monday to the daughter of the man Janklow's speeding car killed on Aug. 16. Indeed it had, in the persons of 12 jurors who determined that being a congressman, a former governor and a hometown hero did not put Janklow above the law.
Four guilty counts -- second-degree manslaughter, reckless driving, running a stop sign, speeding -- brought the curtain down on a South Dakota political career of epic proportion. Janklow announced shortly after the verdict was read that he would resign his seat in the U.S. House on Jan. 20, the day he is scheduled to be sentenced.
That such a career would come to this end is the stuff of classical tragedy. Ironically, it was as a tough-talking defender of law and order that Janklow burst upon the South Dakota political scene in the 1970s. He practiced conservative Republican politics with a swagger and commanding style that won him four terms as governor and one, in 2002, as the state's only congressman.
It was a far different man, meek and contrite, who took the stand in the Moody County Courthouse last Saturday. His defense was that on Aug. 16, he had failed to do what every long-term diabetic knows he must do to maintain his well-being. He did not eat that day.
The admission backfired with the jury. For someone who has lived with diabetes for two decades, as Janklow has, to get behind the wheel of a car without having eaten for a long period is itself irresponsible, akin to driving while intoxicated. Rather than excusing Janklow, the diabetes defense was seen as part of a pattern of reckless conduct that fateful day -- which in turn fit a pattern of habitual recklessness on the road.
Janklow was a notorious speeder. He racked up a dozen vehicular violations in just one four-year period, between 1990 and 1994. He used to joke and boast about his "heavy foot" on the accelerator -- and through the years, many South Dakotans, used to traversing long distances on lightly traveled rural roads, laughed with him. The joke turned out to have a grisly punch line.
Painful as it is to watch a storied public career end with the shame of a felony conviction, South Dakotans can take pride in the justice that was administered in Flandreau. Before the trial, questions were asked about whether a fair result could come in Janklow's hometown, among people who have known him personally and taken pride in his career. The questions proved unnecessary. A judge and 12 citizens understood their duty to value life and the law above pride and reputation, and acted accordingly.
In commendable fashion, Janklow's trial affirmed the American principle that no person stands above the law. That's one moral of the Janklow tragedy.
His story also cogently conveys a message to drivers of both country and city roads. It's that speed laws and stop signs are not optional. They exist to protect human life. Ignoring them can be fatal.
