Monday, Oct. 20, 1997

A HOFFA RISES AGAIN

By RON STODGHILL/II DETROIT

As an eight-year-old child, James P. Hoffa was often lured away and could not join other kids in punting footballs or sledding on icy streets. Instead, he was "on a picket line. I'd be standing by the fire barrel with my dad. He'd explain to me why we were there--that people were on strike for better wages, better lives. That's my heritage."

James Hoffa has spent a lifetime trying to move out of his father's shadow, yet he seems most comfortable within its famous outline. Strolling on a breezy autumn morning with workers amid the trucks, crates and loading docks outside a Detroit produce warehouse, Hoffa exudes a blue-collar bravado that would make Papa proud. A lawyer by training, Jim Jr. has to work hard to appear common, but he's got the stocky carriage, swagger and serious blue eyes that summon up the visage of the Teamster leader who disappeared 22 years ago. Perhaps even more important, as almost daily disclosures of scandal cripple the 1.4 million-member union, Hoffa has a last name that could catapult him to the union's presidency. "My father must be smiling down from heaven today," he says.

The widening fund-raising investigation that threatens to topple current Teamster president Ron Carey has brought Hoffa closer than ever to reviving the family dynasty. Carey has spent time before a federal grand jury investigating an illegal scheme to divert union money to his campaign during his 1996 re-election bid, in which Hoffa was narrowly defeated. And it's far from certain that Carey will even be allowed to participate in the rerun election scheduled to begin in January. Hoffa, meanwhile, is out campaigning, raising money, plugging a reformist platform and decrying what he describes as the "biggest scandal in the history of labor."

There's a lot at stake. To the government, a Hoffa assumption of power would represent the failure of three decades of law enforcement to rid the union of ties to his father's corrupt regime. To the Democratic Party, it could mean the loss of Teamster donations and support. And to Carey and his staff, it would not only mean personal repudiation but also the failure of their promise to rid the union of its past.

The Feds "will never let [Hoffa] take the Teamsters," says a longtime labor investigator: "They will put it into trusteeship first. To the government, it would mean 30 years of effort was all for nothing."

Yet Hoffa has the confidence of the underdog who knows the forces arrayed against him have only enhanced his populist appeal. Sitting down at Pick-a-Deli, a greasy spoon adjacent to the produce warehouse, Hoffa orders his usual: scrambled eggs ("Gimme lots of catsup for my eggs"), orange juice and wheat toast with grape jam. He's annoyed by comparisons with his father ("I have the name, but I'm also someone in my own right"), yet he recalls the patriarch vividly and talks about him at length. "It was draining to go see him" in jail, Hoffa says. "He was like a caged animal. He was such a dynamic person."

That's an adjective not usually applied to the younger Hoffa. "He's an empty suit with a famous name," says Ken Paff, chief organizer for Teamsters for a Democratic Union, Carey's main base of political support within the union. But Hoffa is wired for a fight this time. He has spent the past two months traveling the U.S., rallying the rank and file and invoking theories of conspiracy. "The government doesn't want me to run," he snaps. "They want to control the Teamsters. When we take over, we will reinvigorate this union and change its course forever."

James Hoffa has spent his life in a kind of dress rehearsal for this moment. He once told an interviewer that his favorite movie is The Lion King because it mirrors his struggle. Reared on Detroit's West Side, Hoffa was an honors student and a local football hero. In 1967, a year after he graduated from the University of Michigan Law School, his father was forced from office and jailed after a federal-court conviction for jury tampering. In July 1975, Hoffa mysteriously disappeared from the parking lot of a suburban Detroit restaurant. No one has ever been charged with the presumed murder.

For many of those years, young Hoffa labored in a modest law practice. Then, four years ago, he went to work full time as executive assistant to Larry Brennan, the president of Teamsters Joint Council 43 in Detroit. He parlayed that role into alliances with local Teamsters officials around the U.S., including some who were later purged during Carey's tenure because of corruption. And Hoffa's support "wasn't confined to the union's old guard," says Harley Shaiken, professor and labor-relations specialist at the University of California, Berkeley. It also reflected the Teamsters' unhappiness with its own place, slipping in the economy.

Hoffa contends that it was only the old allegations of scandal that caused his 1996 loss to Carey by a 16,000-vote margin. So his recent stump speeches hammer on the accusation that Carey knew of a plan to launder union funds through third parties and into his campaign coffers. "Either Ron Carey is a fool or a crook or maybe just a crooked fool," sniffs Hoffa. "One thing is certain--he has set the Teamsters back 20 years."

But Hoffa carries some baggage of his own. His candidacy in a rerun will surely trigger new scrutiny over ties to his father's old allies. According to the book Mob Lawyer by Frank Ragano and Selwyn Raab, James and his wife received thousands of dollars in cash as a wedding gift from Mob-connected associates of his father--a charge Hoffa has denied. And there's also the likelihood that the Independent Review Board that monitors the union will closely scrutinize Hoffa's campaign finances. He raised $3.6 million for the '96 race, including more than $2 million from untraced small donations of less than $100.

"I've led an exemplary life," Hoffa says, shrugging. "I don't even have any points on my driving record."

Many union members feel that if the rerun election were held now, Hoffa would win this time. But as Hoffa knows, a lot can happen between now and election day--especially when your last name is Hoffa.

--With reporting by Edward Barnes/New York and Joseph R. Szczesny/Detroit

With reporting by EDWARD BARNES/NEW YORK AND JOSEPH R. SZCZESNY/DETROIT