Ed Kemmick
As Billings plays host this weekend to the 20th anniversary Not In Our Town National Leadership Gathering, it’s hard not to feel some pride in this community’s stand against hate and intolerance.
But it’s easy to forget, in the midst of all the reminiscences of menorahs, marches and candlelight vigils, that neither the climate of fear nor the response to it were mere abstractions.
Real people suffered real harm in the form of vandalism, and savage personal attacks in the form of inflammatory fliers and other publications. Fortunately, the response involved more than rallies and demonstrations of solidarity, as important and uplifting as they were.
What turned the tide was a lawsuit against the man who was found to have been the author and distributor of most of the hate “literature” — a grossly inappropriate term under the circumstances.
“Our court system and our legal system were used to address this problem,” said attorney Malcolm Goodrich. “That’s been kind of overlooked.”
Goodrich was one of five local attorneys who donated their time to represent five individuals and one organization who sued the national Ku Klux Klan, affiliated KKK groups in Montana and Washington state, and John Abarr, described in the lawsuit as a recruiter for Montana Quest and the Realm of Montana, both fronts for local KKK chapters. The suit was filed on Feb. 15, 1994.
The lawyers got involved after members of the Yellowstone County Bar Association were mailed some of the hate literature. Goodrich and Bruce Fredrickson, both of whom worked for the Crowley law firm at the time, thought the writings pushed First Amendment free-speech rights to their limit.
Beyond the boilerplate anti-Semitism, racism and gay-bashing of the publications, Goodrich said, they were struck by the vile, patently false, intensely personal attacks on local residents.
Setting the stage
Two Jewish residents who ended up suing Abarr and the KKK had their houses vandalized, and whether Abarr was responsible for the vandalism or not, the lawyers believed his defamatory attacks set the stage for the criminal activity.
Goodrich and Fredrickson were joined by Joel Guthals, K.D. Tolliver and James Patten, all of whom worked for free on the case. The plaintiffs were the Montana Human Rights Network — always referred to in Abarr’s writings as the Montana Homo Rights Network — then-Police Chief Wayne Inman, Drs. Brian Schnitzer and Don Roberts, architect Kurt Nelson, Billings Symphony Director Uri Barnea and Russ Brown, who worked for the Billings Community Housing Board.
Goodrich said the heroes were not the lawyers but the plaintiffs, who showed great courage. They had no idea how much time it would take, nor how much public scrutiny they would be under, he said.
And it was by no means an easy case. Goodrich said Abarr was represented for free by local attorney Rob Stephens, later aided by an attorney with the American Civil Liberties Union. Goodrich said they believed passionately that Abarr’s First Amendment rights were being threatened.
Goodrich said he and his colleagues also believe in free speech, of course, but they felt Abarr had gone “way over the line.” Except for Inman, none of the plaintiffs were true “public figures.” Generally speaking, it’s harder to sue for defamation and libel on behalf of public figures.
Also, Goodrich said, virtually everything Abarr said about the plaintiffs was “totally untrue and totally unfounded.”
The fliers, posters and leaflets said Inman, the Human Rights Network and the Montana Association of Churches were a “Pro-Faggot Triad,” and that the association was financed by “rich Jews.” One flier said Inman was “launching an attack upon Christian organizations in an attempt to legitimize his own lesbian daughter’s lifestyle choice.”
Nelson was accused of working on behalf of the Human Rights Network to teach “children precautions needed to perform anal sex.” Brown was said to be a “Neo-Marxist” who “enjoys reading homosexual literature.”
The attorneys argued that Abarr’s language went beyond protected speech in that it was intended to harass, intimidate and terrify his targets.
Doubly offended
Guthals said he and the other attorneys were not only offended by what Abarr had written, “but offended by and concerned about what was happening in the community.” Guthals was one of many people who volunteered to stand guard during services at the Beth Aaron Temple, and to walk congregants to their cars before and after services. The incidents of vandalism and reports of death threats created an oppressive climate of fear among Jewish residents, he said.
Guthals and Goodrich credited Inman with pushing to take action against the hate before it escalated into violence. He had worked in Portland, Ore., before coming to Billings and had learned there how important it was to counter white supremacists before they gained strength.
Fortunately, the suit was settled after about six months. The plaintiffs had sought unspecified damages, but Goodrich said they “weren’t looking for money or anything. They were just looking for vindication.”
That’s what they achieved with the settlement, which was more important than its relatively mild wording would suggest. Both parties were released from all claims, but the settlement stipulated that Abarr “regrets any harm that he may have caused to plaintiffs as a result of any misstatements in published or disseminated materials authored by him.”
That was an apology, however lukewarm, and an acknowledgement of Abarr’s role in producing the defamatory statements. The settlement also said that while both parties “acknowledge the right of all persons to engage in protected free speech,” they also “recognize that not all statements are entitled to First Amendment protection.”
Another accomplishment was simply the unmasking of Abarr. Goodrich said they were told by national authorities that specific members of the KKK and other hate groups are very rarely “outed.”
The effect on Abarr, Goodrich said, was that “now, he’s out in the open and the light might have been a little intense. I think that’s why he decided to move someplace else.”
And whether Abarr acted alone or with others, the lawsuit had the desired effect.
“There weren’t any more fliers,” Goodrich said. “There weren’t any more bricks through windows. It all stopped.”
So, this weekend, let’s salute all the many people in the community who stood together to counter hate and to promote tolerance.
But let’s not forget the brave individuals who swallowed their fears, gave up their privacy and put their reputations on the line to go toe to toe with the haters. Their victory was a victory for all of us.
