Kilpatrick pleads guilty and resigns

DETROIT -- After six turbulent years and six months of criminal charges, after the destruction of careers and the squandering of more than $10 million in city funds, Kwame Kilpatrick's career as mayor is over.

Detroit's charismatic and controversial mayor pleaded guilty to two felonies and no contest to another Thursday, marking an end to a scandal that had engulfed his administration and paralyzed the city he serves.

Within minutes of admitting "I lied under oath," Kilpatrick submitted a terse, one-paragraph resignation letter. He'll stay in office until Sept. 18. The next day City Council President Kenneth V. Cockrel Jr. will take the reins of the city until a special election can be held.

But Detroit may not have seen the last of Kilpatrick, the city's youngest and most flamboyant mayor. In an oddly upbeat resignation speech on what others characterized as one of city's saddest days, Kilpatrick vowed to rise again. "You done set me up for a comeback!" Kilpatrick told supporters.

He was gracious to Cockrel, asking that the city pray for him. Kilpatrick was not so gracious to Gov. Jennifer Granholm, the fellow Democrat whose ongoing removal hearing forced Kilpatrick to make a quick plea deal. He blasted the removal hearing as a product of Granholm's "political ambitions."

As part of a deal to settle 10 felony charges against him, Kilpatrick will leave office and repay the city $1 million. He has pleaded guilty to two counts of obstruction of justice and no contest to one charge he assaulted a law enforcement officer. He will give up his law license. He cannot run for office for five years.

Kilpatrick will be sentenced Oct. 28 and report directly to jail, where he'll stay for at least 100 days of his 120-day sentence. He'll be behind bars over Christmas and will be released no sooner than Jan. 27, 2009.

"I lied under oath ... with the intent to mislead the court and jury and to impede and obstruct the fair administration of justice," Kilpatrick told Wayne Circuit Judge David Groner.

"We cannot tolerate in any form corruption in this town," Wayne County Prosecutor Kym Worthy said. "Perjury is a serious charge. He finally took some responsibility today, but responsibility without consequences is only a slap on the hand. You have to have some consequences to your actions. You don't just lose your job and walk away."

"The city of Detroit can now exhale," said Kwame Kenyatta, the City Council member who spearheaded efforts to force Kilpatrick from office. "He will go down in our history as a mayor who fell from grace."

The mayor's decision was met with relief by business and civic leaders and also with sympathy for Kilpatrick's family, including his three young boys.

"Today, this sad but historic story is coming to an end," said Granholm, who watched Kilpatrick's guilty plea on a television in the state office building in Detroit, where she was ready to reconvene her own hearing to oust the mayor if the plea deal fell through.

Granholm suspended the historic hearings -- a Michigan governor has never removed a sitting mayor -- and likely will cancel them if Kilpatrick's sentencing goes off without a hitch.

"Commentators and historians, I expect, will use the lessons of these difficult months to teach those young, future public servants about the importance of integrity and honor and duty to the public," Granholm said.

"When a public official violates that sacred trust, the violation and its consequences affect more than that individual."

The consequences of Kilpatrick's legal woes are still being calculated. Under Kilpatrick's orders, the city spent $8.4 million in a vain attempt to hide incriminating text messages sent by the mayor and his former Chief of Staff Christine Beatty -- messages that seemed to indicate Kilpatrick and Beatty had an affair, and that they conspired to fire police officer Gary Brown. Legal bills have pushed the tally for the cash-strapped city above $10 million.

Brown and two other officers lost their jobs partly because of investigations into the mayor's liaisons. Beatty, once the most powerful woman in Detroit, lost her job with the city, is unemployed and still faces the possibility of jail time for her role in the scandal.

Detroit city government and the business community have been virtually paralyzed. Not a single new construction project has been announced. A desperately needed expansion of Cobo Center has been delayed.

Nearly 2,000 city workers may lose their jobs this month because the mayor and City Council could not complete a deal to lease the Detroit-Windsor Tunnel.

Ten lawyers involved in the text-message scandal, some city lawyers and some who represented the police officers, are being investigated by the Michigan Attorney Grievance Commission.

"There are no winners in this saga," said Brown after the plea Thursday. "I'm happy this has come to an end (but) ... I feel sad for the city of Detroit and what they've gone through."

Since the scandal erupted on the front pages of Detroit's newspapers in January, the 38-year-old Kilpatrick had vehemently denied he had done anything wrong. He said the criminal case brought by Worthy was racially motivated. He had his lawyers argue that the text messages that that appeared to indicate his guilt had been sent by a computer hacker.

He said his woes were manufactured by the media.

Some of that battle was still in Kilpatrick on Thursday. Though in court to plead guilty to several felonies, Kilpatrick turned to the benches full of reporters and said, "You've been wrong the whole time."

When asked by Groner if he understood that by pleading guilty he was giving up his right to be presumed innocent, Kilpatrick sarcastically replied, "I think I gave up that right a long time ago."

His wife, Carlita Kilpatrick, sat in the courtroom, scribbling notes in a notebook that had on its cover a Bible verse: "Let us learn together what is good."

It is a verse from the Book of Job, which tells the story of a man whose faith in God is tested by a series of disasters not of his making.

In his speech announcing his resignation, Kilpatrick never mentioned his scandal or the felonies to which he'd pleaded guilty hours earlier. In a speech that more resembled a State of the City address than a resignation, Kilpatrick touted the city's achievements since he entered office in 2002.

Former Deputy Mayor Anthony Adams said Kilpatrick addressed his staff and appointees and called for an "orderly transition" to help prepare a future Mayor Cockrel. "He wants us to pave the way for an incoming Mayor Cockrel," Adams said.

Adams said that when Kilpatrick walked in the room he received a standing ovation. The large, circular conference room was overflowing with aides, appointees and various staff who had been quietly and often somberly moving around the 11th floor suite all morning.

Already, there were signs of transition at the mayor's 11th floor office. Large photos of the mayor enjoying sports celebrations with the Pistons, a female boxer and the Tigers were removed from the public foyer Thursday.

It's unclear where the mayor and his family will live in two weeks. The mayor, his wife and three sons live for free in the Manoogian Mansion and have the use of a GM-donated Escalade. The Kilpatricks have no private residence in Detroit.

The mayor's mother, U.S. Rep. Carolyn Cheeks Kilpatrick, released the following statement:

"While my heart is heavy, I support Mayor Kilpatrick's decision to do what he believes is best for his family, our family, and the citizens of Detroit. I would like to thank all those who have encouraged the Mayor and our family with your prayers, cards, and other expressions of support. I ask that you continue to pray for the Mayor and his family and the city of Detroit during this difficult time."

For now, Kilpatrick said, he will focus on "healing" his family. "I know supporting me has not always been easy," the soon-to-be-ex-mayor said with a smile, "but I have to know that it has not been boring, either."