National Review sued Newark mayor and aspiring senator Cory Booker and the city of Newark after our Eliana Johnson had difficulty obtaining a police report on the murder of Wazn Miller, a 19-year-old who was gunned down between two housing projects in 2004. Booker himself has told Miller’s story numerous times on the stump. As he tells it, he heard gunshots, ran toward them, and just happened to arrive on the scene in time for Miller to fall “into my arms.” The mayor held the boy there, tending to his wounds, until paramedics arrived. But it was too late: “He was dead,” Booker has said. The police report flatly contradicts these claims, indicating instead that a woman held Miller until an ambulance arrived and that the victim did not die in Booker’s arms but “expired from his injuries” at the hospital. The New York Post has done more digging, tracking down two witnesses, one of whom called Booker’s self-described heroics a “ploy” and a “big act.” Our bet is that, just as Booker dropped the drug dealer T-Bone from his speeches, he will never again tell an audience about catching Wazn Miller in his arms.
Remember the good old days when a candidate’s hesitation to release his tax returns was treated as a genuine scandal? That was long ago, in 2012. Rather than release his returns, Mayor Booker allowed nine reporters hand-picked by his campaign to examine them in a hotel ballroom in Newark. They had three hours—no photographs, no copies, no removing the documents from the room—resulting in what one of the reporters present described as a mad scramble to record information as the clock ticked to zero. This, his campaign trumpeted as a “historic gesture of transparency.” Booker is also refusing to release the confidential separation agreement he struck with his old law firm, which netted him nearly $700,000 around the time the firm raked in over $2 million from two city agencies. Booker’s relationship with those agencies is, suffice it to say, cozy. He personally sat on the board of one while his former law partner served as its general counsel. His chief of staff simultaneously serves as chairman of the board of the other. Booker owes the people of New Jersey a full and open accounting of his relationship with the firm. As for that “historic gesture of transparency,” it is a gesture, all right: a not-very-polite one in the faces of New Jersey’s voters.