At home, sorrow over Bryant's conviction

Yvette Loper has put her hands on the picture of her longtime state senator in the newspaper every morning the last few weeks and offered these words: "God, let good be done."

Loper was among the neighbors, friends and distant family members in Wayne Bryant's hometown of Lawnside who have prayed that the former senator would be absolved of a crime that they consider a small mistake in a long life of good deeds.

Yesterday, jurors decided otherwise. They convicted him of 12 counts of bribery and pension fraud.

In close-knit Lawnside, the first self-governing African American community north of the Mason-Dixon Line and a stop on the Underground Railroad, the Bryant name runs deep. So when supporters heard yesterday that the politician was headed to prison, their chins sank to their chests.

"I've always just known him as a wonderful servant for humanity," said Yvonne Foster, who has owned Lawnside's Mademoiselle Beauty Salon with her twin sister, Yvette Loper, for 37 years.

Foster cited Bryant's work on welfare reform, which won him national acclaim. "That was good for the taxpayers, good for the children, good for the parents," she said.

Bryant also knew how to bring home the money, others said.

"When they needed capital equipment, air-conditioning for the gymnasium, all he wanted to know was, 'How much is it going to cost?' " said Vincent Rochester, 72, a former Lawnside school board president. "And he'd work it out."

As for the jurors, Rochester said: "Those are people who don't know about the man.

"Naturally he did one thing he shouldn't have done, but he did right by Lawnside, that's all I can say."

The Bryant name is omnipresent in the Camden County town. Wayne Bryant's brother, Mark, is the mayor. Around the block is the Wayne R. Bryant Community Center. Even the map has Bryant markings: I.R. Bryant Way, named after his father, a former school board president, and Spicer Place, named for his wife, Cheryl Spicer.

For those in Bryant's corner, skepticism abounds about why the senator was investigated in the first place.

"You don't know what's behind this," Foster said. "He probably ruffled somebody's feathers and they said, 'Hey, I'll get you.' "

In Camden City, however, where Bryant focused much of his work and legislation, the news of Bryant's conviction brought considerably less sorrow.

Kelly Francis, a city activist and president of the Camden County NAACP, noted that Bryant cowrote the 2002 state takeover law that sent $175 million to Camden but took away most of the powers of the mayor, City Council and school board.

"It turned out to be a total disaster," Francis said, noting that during the state takeover, Camden has been named the poorest and most dangerous city in America.

Its deficit has skyrocketed, and two dozen city workers lost their jobs last week.

"He disenfranchised an entire city of minorities. . . . That is the major part of his legacy," he said.

Councilman Gilbert "Whip" Wilson said he didn't like much of the takeover law, but it did provide needed money for institutions in the city. At the time of Bryant's indictment, the two politicians were working on a new state law to create weapons-free school zones, Wilson said.

"He was always kind, always working on something," Wilson said.

A young political activist in the city, Sean Brown, said Bryant represented the culture of the political machine in which officials do "great things for themselves," not "great things for the people."

"He's going to jail; that's good," Brown said.

"I guess the bad news is there are plenty of people in line to take over his position being a selfish political leader, forgetting the people they serve."