This story was reported by Kasi Addison, Barry Carter, Robin Gaby Fisher, Maura McDermott, Guy Sterling and Katie Wang. It was written by Rudy Larini.


Newark was Sharpe James' city in every imaginable way.

Five terms as mayor.

Thirty-seven years in public office.

And he never lost an election, steamrolling foes along the way, squashing critics and pushing his agenda by sheer force and will.

Yesterday, the once-unstop pable force was steamrolled by 12 strangers who pronounced his guilt inside a federal courtroom.

In a matter of seconds, the 10 a.m. decision launched the state's largest city into a day of clattering, as residents and workers digested and dissected the news that James and his former girlfriend had committed fraud and would be going to federal prison.

This is the story of a day in Newark no one will soon forget, a day few who watched James' spectacular hold over the city would have predicted.


THE TALK AT CITY HALL

For 20 years, James ruled Newark from a second-floor office at City Hall -- a building with an unmistakable golden dome that rises over Broad Street, a building the former mayor could see every day entering and leaving the Martin Luther King Federal Courthouse across the street.

As mayor, James kept a hand in nearly every decision, right down to which clerks would get hired for jobs. Those who disagreed with him paid the price, with James often taunting them in public or keeping them out of the loop on decisions.

And when he was seen, it was often memorable.

James was known to pay his taxes personally at the tax office on the first floor. In one of his most famous appearances in 2006, he donned a straw hat and rode a Newark Police bike around the third floor of City Hall to deliver his petitions to run for mayor again. And in his final state of the city address before leaving office, he waved several large automatic weapons in the air to demonstrate the city's success with a gun buy- back program.

Yesterday, people at City Hall traded stories and memories of the mayor, but the tone was hushed and there was an air of genuine shock.

"Great sadness," said Council President Mildred Crump when asked for her reaction. "Anytime a person who has been handed the public trust and does not use it wisely ... should make one sad."

Crump, who once ran against James, learned about the verdict from East Ward Councilman Augusto Amador who walked over to deliver the news just as employees were settling in for the day.

"It's a sad day for Newark," said Amador, who testified during James' trial. "I feel sorry for his family and I feel sorry for those who put their trust in him."

OVER BREAKFAST

The late breakfast crowd was quiet and subdued at Je's Restau rant on the corner of Halsey and William streets, where James long has been a regular. Customers had mixed feelings about the verdict.

Cornell Williamson, 27, a lifelong Newark resident, said he had followed the trial closely and felt let down by James, the only mayor he had known.

"I looked up to him, but now I'm disappointed," said Williamson, who was having breakfast with two friends in a corner booth.

He said he was shocked by the verdict, but felt it was justified be cause of how the land deals with James' mistress came about.

"When people get back-door, concealed hookups, that's not fair and it's not right," he said. "People we elect as our leaders should be the ones protecting us from that, instead of doing it themselves."

John Kidd, 76, was disappointed by the verdict and said Newark has deteriorated since James left office. A lifelong resident of the city, he yearns for the days James was in office.

"He did a good job as mayor," Kidd said. "But behind doors, it may have been a different story."

His wife, Ola, who's lived in Newark 50 years, said she'll be disappointed if James is sent to prison.

"So many others are getting away with things. I don't think he should go to jail," she said. The last time she saw James at Je's, she said, he bought her breakfast.

Outside the restaurant, Renee Stokes of Orange said she hoped the verdict would send a message to other politicians thinking of cheating the public.

"All you need is one person to start, and that will make other people start to think," she said.

But John Lee Boone, 55, whose nickname is "Peewee," defended James.

"Everybody did a little stealing, but they only went after him," said Boone, who has lived in the city since 1967. "They wanted to get him for a long time."

As he hung posters outside Je's for a concert at Symphony Hall, Awoola Elliott of Linden showed off a picture he had taken of James yesterday morning when he ran into the ex-mayor at a hardware store on Lafayette Street.

"He seemed like a good mayor, but if you do the crime, you have to pay the price," said Elliott, who also would be disappointed to see James go to prison.

"He seems like a nice guy."

A 'RENAISSANCE'

Five years ago, when a new low- income building opened along Springfield Avenue, James stood inside the lobby and proclaimed the apartment complex named for him was proof of the city's progress.

"Look out any which way -- east, west, north and south -- and you'll see renaissance in the neighborhood," the mayor said.

The housing and retails shops that now dot the Springfield Ave nue corridor -- to the east, west, north and south -- were one reason it was easy to find people outside the Mayor Sharpe James Apart ments defending their former mayor.

The verdict prompted a big "Oh!" from Corine Johnson, who has lived in the building since it opened. She didn't think James would be convicted, and didn't think he should have been found guilty.

"He did a lot in Newark, and of all of them get in there and take a piece," said the 83-year-old. Johnson's thoughts on politicians and corruption were echoed by many of the people wandering in and around the apartment building.

As Veatrice Wilson, 80, prepared to head home after a visit with her brother and sister-in-law, she said she was torn by the verdict be cause James did something wrong, but she felt he truly cared about the city.

"He did no more than the rest of them are doing, but he got caught," she said. "So I feel bad about it. I don't condone cheating, but everybody does it and he didn't take it all for himself."

Saul Laboy, a superintendent at the complex, said James wasn't the most scrupulous mayor and he misused his power, but unlike his predecessors he did a lot of things to help the city, said.

In the end, though, Laboy said, power went to the mayor's head.

"We teach our kids to say no to drugs," Laboy said. "He's the mayor, he should have known to say no."

CAMPUS WEIGHS IN

Raziya Karriem never knew James when the ex-mayor taught at Essex County College.

Still, she said she was saddened by his conviction. James helped create jobs, got housing built, put more police on the streets and gave the city pride in itself, said Kar riem, who grew up in Newark.

"He got fat, but everybody else got fat, too," the 45-year-old journalism student said.

Even so, she added, "Robin Hood was still a hood ... If you do the crime, you have to be prepared to suffer the consequences."

Like much of the city, reaction was mixed at the college where James was athletic director before becoming mayor. He later returned for a one-year stint as head of the Urban Issues Institute, which was created for him through private do nations.

The institute's office in the main building was locked yesterday. But it's still offering political science classes and conferences on government, immigration and other topics, said Karen Tinebra, a college spokeswoman.

The institute is now headed by a faculty member, Akil Khalfani, she said. Khalfani is not being paid extra for his work there, and the college is seeking new private do nations to keep the institute going once the current funding runs out, Tinebra said.

News of the verdict, which spread across the campus by cell phone text messages, competed for the attention of students who are cramming for spring finals.

One Newark resident said she believed racism was a factor.

"They're just picking on him," said Ijeoma Ukenta, a 25-year-old business and accounting major. "If he was white, they would have had more mercy. You see that with the governor (of New York). He was caught with prostitutes."

Others were less forgiving.

"He was cheating the public," said Sam Mathew, 22, a computer informations system major from West Orange. "That's unethical."

The college's board kept James on a leave of absence during his two decades as mayor. After leaving City Hall in 2006, James spent a year teaching two government classes and leading seminars on the Newark riots, among other subjects, according to college President Zachary A. Yamba. The former mayor's $150,000 salary was funded by private donations, he said.

Yamba declined to speak about the verdict yesterday, saying only he felt "sad for his family and for him."

In his year at the college James would urge students -- especially young men -- to "stay in school, stay the course," said Jackie Mor gan, 40, a Newark resident.

"He was usually very encourag ing, from what I heard," the ac counting major said. "As an administrator, he was very good."

James retired in June, shortly after U.S. Attorney Chris Christie formally notified him a grand jury was investigating his land deals.

"The good outweighs the bad," said Sarah Rice, 27, a nursing major. "But in a courtroom, they're not going to see it that way."

IN JAMES' NEIGHBORHOOD

Judge Banks, 72, sat in his car outside a supermarket in the South Ward where James lives and waited for his wife to emerge from the supermarket.

When Banks saw her, he called out: "He's guilty!"

"Give me a kiss!" yelled Marva Wright-Banks. "He stole our money and didn't give us nothing for 20 years."

Not everyone in the South Ward was as happy or as confident their neighbor would be convicted.

"I thought he would beat it be cause there was nothing they could actually charge him with," said Brandon Bernard, 78.

At the Extra Supermarket on Lyons Avenue, also in the South Ward, James Fountain, 50, was critical of politicians in general -- "Everybody's got their hand in the pot" -- and especially harsh on James, saying "The man is guilty. He's done good, but he was still putting his money in the kitty. He came out a cold-blooded millionaire."

At Kings Family Restaurant on Lyons Avenue, Addison Wilcox, 76, of Newark said the prosecution of James by Christie was politically motivated -- a sentiment heard in all corners of the city yesterday.

"It's persecution of black elected officials and the Republican Party going after them," Wilcox said, mentioning state Sen. Wayne Bryant (D-Camden) and former Assemblyman Mims Hackett (D- Essex), the mayor of East Orange. Both are facing corruption charges in federal court.

"This guy (Christie) had to make a name for himself, and Sharpe is a big fish," he said. "I'm not surprised this jury found him guilty."

Al Mustafa Shabazz, 69, of Newark believes there also was a racist element in the prosecution of James.

"He was too powerful politically for a black man in America," he said. "Every time a black man is in power, they send someone to get him out."

'WE GOT INJUSTICE'

Outside the federal courthouse just a block from City Hall, Carolyn Kelley Shabazz and Dianna Qua mina were talking about their disappointment.

Both had spent several days inside Judge William Martini's fourth-floor courtroom, backing James and his family.

Kelley Shabazz said she has supported the former mayor since he was first elected in 1986 and attended nearly every day of the trial.

She quoted African-American poet and author Maya Angelou: "You can stomp me down with your bitter twisted lies, but still I rise. I rise," she said, referring to James.

Quamina also attended much of the trial, often sitting beside James' wife.

"We came here for justice, and we got injustice," Quamina said. "We came for him, and we came for her, Tamika. Whoever said sex is a crime?"