When a scandal involving a famous person, sex and money goes public, the gossip and speculation heats up faster than a good Cuban cigar. The late Archbishop Rembert Weakland, former Mayor John Norquist and pro football player Mark Chmura all had one thing in common. The three men watched their lives crash and burn because they were in the wrong place at the wrong time.
Weakland’s peers remembered him as an indefatigable Superman of the Roman Catholic Church who rose steadily through the ranks on sheer talent. Unfortunately, they couldn’t overlook the disgrace he inflicted on Milwaukee’s Catholic parishes when he was forced to step down as the city’s archbishop.
Weakland’s upward trajectory was fueled by his ability to bail the Church out of one crisis after another. He possessed a brilliant intellect which became apparent at an early age. He was seven when he taught himself to play the piano, and 13 when he entered a Benedictine monastery. As a young man, Weakland studied music at the Julliard School, and became fluent in Latin, Greek, German, French and Spanish.
But his detractors noted that he was cold, aloof, and almost always alone. Those are odd observations considering Weakland’s superiors noticed the competence with which he guided people and offered solace. His achievements were recognized within the Vatican’s political hierarchy, and when the Church translated the traditional Latin mass into English, it was Weakland who accomplished the task.
In 1977, Pope Paul VI sent him to Milwaukee as the successor to Archbishop Wiiliam Cousins. “Coming here wasn’t what I wanted. I did it because the Vatican wanted me here,” he said in a 2002 interview. “Looking back, it was the worst decision of my life.” Weakland became liberal hero as he appointed women to key leadership positions and testified in support of gay rights. He may have pushed his agenda too swiftly, however, as the Pope chided him for being America’s most outspoken bishop.
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At age 52, Weakland wrote extensively of being desperately lonely and struggling with his vow of celibacy. In 1979 he met Paul Marcoux, a Marquette University theology student, and the two began a clandestine love affair. Within a year, Marcoux claimed to be low on funds and asked Weakland for money. Despite his reluctance to put anything personal in writing, he wrote a long, heartfelt letter about the nature of their relationship. He then gave Marcoux $14,000 out of his personal bank account.
The two went their separate ways, and Weakland had affairs with other men. He didn’t hear from Marcoux until 1998, when his former lover proposed to sell him that letter for $1 million. He told an attorney that Weakland assaulted him in 1979 and he was seeking the money as compensation for what amounted to date rape. Marcoux eventually settled for $450,000, which was surreptitiously drawn from a Church slush fund. On the ropes, Weakland tried to explain his relationships, payment of the hush money, and his flawed legacy, but was excoriated by his critics and shunned by former friends.
A 2002 trial exposed additional details of the archbishop’s transgressions and made national headlines. Pope Paul II transferred Father Timothy Dolan from St. Louis to Milwaukee in June 2002, as the new archbishop. Dolan outreach efforts encouraged parishioners to regain their faith in the Church.
After two decades in exile, Rembert Weakland died alone in August 2020. He was 95 years old.
The John Norquist Affair
Beginning in 1974, up-and-coming career politician John Norquist served four terms in the State Assembly before being elected to a seat in the Wisconsin State Senate. When longtime Milwaukee mayor Henry Maier announced he would not run in 1988, Norquist entered the election and ran on a platform that stressed fiscal conservancy and lower property taxes. He won with 54% of the vote, and during his four terms in office, he kept those promises.
But with three years remaining in what would be his final term, allegations of a five-year extramarital affair with former aide Marilyn Figueroa surfaced. Norquist’s inner circle of advisors proposed solutions that would limit the political damage. In a full-page Milwaukee Journal Sentinel advertisement, Norquist apologized for his actions, calling his indiscretions a “serious error in judgment.” At a press conference, he said the public is tired of the TV, talk radio and local newspaper coverage and pledged to complete his term.
If Norquist’s advisors thought the gossip and hearsay would go away, they couldn’t have been more wrong. Throwing another log on the fire, the 42-year-old Figueroa leaked details of the inappropriate relationship and cast herself as a woman who was afraid to say no to her boss. Figueroa’s attorney filed federal and state complaints against the city claiming sexual harassment and racial discrimination within the mayor’s office. Figueroa stated that Norquist coerced her into having sex in numerous times in his office and at her home. She was diagnosed with post-traumatic stress disorder and depression, and allegedly attempted suicide when her legal troubles went public.
To reduce the impact of Figueroa’s claims, Norquist’s advisors said it was critical that he counter the publicity with his version of the affair. He then went home and told his wife, attorney Susan Mudd, but it was hard for many to believe she was the least bit surprised at his revelation. The couple appeared before television cameras to acknowledge there was a consensual relationship between Norquist and Figueroa. In a bizarre twist, Figueroa accused her lawyer of making sexual demands while he worked on her case.
The Norquist-Figueroa case was settled out of court in 2002, and Figueroa was paid $355,000. Some of the money came out of the city’s worker’s compensation fund. Norquist contributed a portion of the settlement from his personal bank account, but the amount was never revealed.
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Mark Chmura in the Hot Tub
In eight seasons with the Green Bay Packers, tight end Mark Chmura ended his career after playing in 89 games, three Pro Bowl games and two Super Bowls. His record includes 188 receptions, 2,253 receiving yards and 17 touchdowns. Chmura was released by the Packers in June 2000 due to a recurring injury to the C5 and C6 discs in his cervical spine.
Before leaving the team, however, the 31-year-old future free agent showed up at a high school post-prom party in Hartland. He began playing drinking games with some of the teenagers and then entered a hot tub. Wearing only boxer shorts, Chmura began frolicking with a 17-year-old girl who at one time babysat for his two children. Forty-eight hours later he was arrested when the girl claimed he took her into a bathroom and sexually assaulted her. She had gone to the rape trauma center at Sinai-Samaritan Medical Center for an exam. At approximately 2 a.m., two policemen came to the house with a warrant for Chmura’s arrest.
The former tight end was in a tight spot when charges of child enticement and sexual assault were filed against him. If convicted, Chmura faced significant time in prison and $20,000 in fines. Flamboyant attorney Gerald R. Boyle had recently defended serial killer Jeffrey Dahmer when the opportunity to take another high-profile case presented itself.
At the end of January 2001, the Chmura trial began in the Waukesha County Courthouse. Over nine days, the testimonies of witnesses were like a pendulum that swung back and forth. The nurse who examined the victim said she believed a rape had occurred, but no DNA or other evidence was produced to support her story. Under oath, Chmura’s wife, Lynda, said their marriage was solid as a rock. Boyle rested his case on Friday, Feb. 2.
On Saturday evening, the jury returned a verdict that acquitted Chmura on the charges of child enticement and sexual assault. “We all believed something happened in there,” said a 59-year-old female juror on the condition of anonymity. “But we had no evidence to prove anything.”
As the first verdict was read, Chmura’s jaw trembled, and he began to cry. As the second verdict was read, he sobbed openly. The stress and tension Chmura felt over the last year drove him into a severe depression. He consumed large amounts of Prozac and Xanax during this time, and friends removed all the guns from his home. To occupy himself, Chmura began doing legal research for his attorney, Gerald Boyle. He invested in several business ventures and began a new phase of his life.
In 2010, Mark Chmura was inducted into the Green Bay Packers Hall of Fame.