John Patterson
From James Donahue’s Journal
There was one other person who began “checking me out” shortly after I arrived at Sandusky, and he maintained a constant vigilance as long as I remained on that job. Lawyer John Patterson, the son of an older practicing lawyer, operated out of the office of Patterson and Patterson on South Elk Street, about a block south of the main corner of town. John was much more subtle about his way of digging out information.
My first contact was the day he called my office and asked me to come to his office for a talk. I knew who he was because of my work with the courts and I thought perhaps he had a news tip or at least something of importance to tell me. But it wasn’t that at all.
After I was shown through the front office by the receptionist, walked down the hallway past Patterson Senior’s office, I ended up in a large, elaborate office occupied by John. He invited me to sit down in a large soft chair. He said he just wanted to find out from me what was “really going on” in the community. He was obviously pumping me for information that I knew of, but was not writing about, or if I was hearing any good gossip. It was a friendly conversation, but John never stopped pumping throughout our conversation. I thought it was a very odd thing to have occurred.
That was only the first of many calls to John’s office. He would summon me, almost as a CEO might call on one of his or her office managers to report in. At first I was intrigued by the strange interest this well-known lawyer seemed to be taking in me. After a few such calls, however, I began thinking of it as a nuisance. He would sometimes keep me in his office for an hour or longer, sometimes under the guise of wanting to give me a “tip” on something going on, but always it ended up that he wanted to talk about issues in the community and find out what I knew.
Elsewhere in these writings I offer the strange story of Dr. Price who was charged with mailing a pipe bomb to John Patterson’s house following a dispute over some legal work Patterson did for the Price family. The bomb did not properly explode but the flash fire singed Patterson’s face and hair and injured one of his children who got too close to the box as it was being opened. Price was convicted of a reduced charge. After serving some prison time, Price gave me his own account of what happened. If his story is true, then Patterson and some of the county deputies were involved in some very shady dealings, were nearly exposed by the doctor, and the bomb story was part of an elaborate scheme to keep Price quiet.
Another story in this package is a full report on the arson fire that destroyed the two-story building that housed the Sanilac County Drug Task Force offices and storage facilities for seized drugs, money and weapons. The director of the department was charged with starting the fire to head off an investigation by one of the newly elected members of the County Board of Commissioners. Patterson represented the defendant in what turned out to be a very sensational story involving allegations of police corruption, narcotics trafficking, weapons sales and money laundering. I heard enough during that trial and in listening to information revealed while the jury was out of the room to reach the conclusion that most of the police and many of the lawyers and county officials were up to their necks in corruption.
I think I made the mistake of telling Patterson my suspicions while we were having lunch together, in the midst of that trial. I write this because just a few weeks later my newspaper informed me that the Sanilac Bureau office was going to be closed and I had a choice of moving to Port Huron or resigning.
I have always believed that the ax fell that year because the Sanilac drug cartel realized that Jim Donahue was onto them. They wanted me out of there before I started digging any deeper into what I strongly suspected but could not yet prove. Somehow the political power of that gang was strong enough to reach at least to the publisher of my newspaper, or perhaps all the way to the headquarters of the Gannett Newspapers in Rochester, New York.
In the end, I understood why Patterson was keeping a close eye on Jim Donahue. I was a rogue reporter that could not be bought, and I was obviously making a lot of people in the area nervous.
I find it strange that Mr. Patterson has lots of promotional material online but there are no pictures. He thus remains somewhat of a ghost for this story. We have posted one photo that claims to be a contemporary shot but we remain doubtful here too.
From James Donahue’s Journal
There was one other person who began “checking me out” shortly after I arrived at Sandusky, and he maintained a constant vigilance as long as I remained on that job. Lawyer John Patterson, the son of an older practicing lawyer, operated out of the office of Patterson and Patterson on South Elk Street, about a block south of the main corner of town. John was much more subtle about his way of digging out information.
My first contact was the day he called my office and asked me to come to his office for a talk. I knew who he was because of my work with the courts and I thought perhaps he had a news tip or at least something of importance to tell me. But it wasn’t that at all.
After I was shown through the front office by the receptionist, walked down the hallway past Patterson Senior’s office, I ended up in a large, elaborate office occupied by John. He invited me to sit down in a large soft chair. He said he just wanted to find out from me what was “really going on” in the community. He was obviously pumping me for information that I knew of, but was not writing about, or if I was hearing any good gossip. It was a friendly conversation, but John never stopped pumping throughout our conversation. I thought it was a very odd thing to have occurred.
That was only the first of many calls to John’s office. He would summon me, almost as a CEO might call on one of his or her office managers to report in. At first I was intrigued by the strange interest this well-known lawyer seemed to be taking in me. After a few such calls, however, I began thinking of it as a nuisance. He would sometimes keep me in his office for an hour or longer, sometimes under the guise of wanting to give me a “tip” on something going on, but always it ended up that he wanted to talk about issues in the community and find out what I knew.
Elsewhere in these writings I offer the strange story of Dr. Price who was charged with mailing a pipe bomb to John Patterson’s house following a dispute over some legal work Patterson did for the Price family. The bomb did not properly explode but the flash fire singed Patterson’s face and hair and injured one of his children who got too close to the box as it was being opened. Price was convicted of a reduced charge. After serving some prison time, Price gave me his own account of what happened. If his story is true, then Patterson and some of the county deputies were involved in some very shady dealings, were nearly exposed by the doctor, and the bomb story was part of an elaborate scheme to keep Price quiet.
Another story in this package is a full report on the arson fire that destroyed the two-story building that housed the Sanilac County Drug Task Force offices and storage facilities for seized drugs, money and weapons. The director of the department was charged with starting the fire to head off an investigation by one of the newly elected members of the County Board of Commissioners. Patterson represented the defendant in what turned out to be a very sensational story involving allegations of police corruption, narcotics trafficking, weapons sales and money laundering. I heard enough during that trial and in listening to information revealed while the jury was out of the room to reach the conclusion that most of the police and many of the lawyers and county officials were up to their necks in corruption.
I think I made the mistake of telling Patterson my suspicions while we were having lunch together, in the midst of that trial. I write this because just a few weeks later my newspaper informed me that the Sanilac Bureau office was going to be closed and I had a choice of moving to Port Huron or resigning.
I have always believed that the ax fell that year because the Sanilac drug cartel realized that Jim Donahue was onto them. They wanted me out of there before I started digging any deeper into what I strongly suspected but could not yet prove. Somehow the political power of that gang was strong enough to reach at least to the publisher of my newspaper, or perhaps all the way to the headquarters of the Gannett Newspapers in Rochester, New York.
In the end, I understood why Patterson was keeping a close eye on Jim Donahue. I was a rogue reporter that could not be bought, and I was obviously making a lot of people in the area nervous.
I find it strange that Mr. Patterson has lots of promotional material online but there are no pictures. He thus remains somewhat of a ghost for this story. We have posted one photo that claims to be a contemporary shot but we remain doubtful here too.