By BUCKY YOUNG
Right about now Gene Mason just might have been the Democratic sixth district congressional nominee fresh from a primary upset and optimistically preparing for November's general election.   Instead, he is in his last year as a popular and more-than-competent professor of political science at UK, $4, 000 in debt and preparing an appeal as a convicted felon sentenced to a one-year term in the state penitentiary.
On May 19, 1970, he was convicted and sentenced for "knowingly" receiving a stolen typewriter.   What he was really guilty of, however, was posing a threat to some very big interests and stepping on some very big toes. In short, he was framed.   As he himself admits, he unintentionally abetted his drastic turn of fortune by making some very human mistakes out of fear and bewilderment during his arrest.
Who, you may ask, would want to frame Gene Mason?
Well, for starters, there's U.S. Rep. John C. Watts.   Before the series of events leading to his arrest and conviction, Mason was in the process of methodically formulating a campaign to unseat Watts, the wealthy, longtime sixth district representative who, through the course of his many years in Washington, has compiled a consistent record as a reactionary and protector of special interests.
Mason, unlike the few men who have bothered to run against Watts, was serious about making some changes in government, reversing the nation's priorities and ending the chronic favoritism accorded the area's economic elite.
Furthermore, Mason, unlike Watts' even fewer "reformist" challengers, presented a serious threat.   Mason is a professional political scientist with
practical as well as theoretical knowledge.   Included in his practical experience was work in Robert Kennedy's 1968 presidential campaign.
Through the summer of 1969. Mason had a staff of 200 volunteers working enthusiastically and scientifically to get his campaign under way. They registered some 1,500 voters, prepared computer cards with information on past elections and on almost every Democratic voter in the district and had begun building their organization.   Mason had contacts with party officials, both locally and nationally, and had access to funds.   He was gaining wide exposure through regular weekly newspaper columns and TV commentary programs he had developed.   Mason also had the attribute of projecting an attractive image.
So John Watts had good reason to want to see him disposed of. There are others, too.   Such as officials in the city police force, Mason having been critical of them in his capacity as a member of the Lexington and Fayette County Crime Commission and the UK-based Community Alliance for Responsible Action. Mason's activities with the latter had once caused Police Chief £. C. Hale to refer to him as one of the "communist ring leaders. "   Mason also had offended key people in the Commonwealth's attorney's office.   More about that later.
It's hard to say exactly who framed Gene Mason.   Maybe elements of one of these groups, two of them, all of them or others.   You can judge for yourself.   Whoever it was did a good job.
The actual turn of events leading to the destruction of Mason's campaign and to his conviction began on the evening of October 27, 1969.   Mason attended a party for black precinct workers that night at the Paradise Inn to
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make himself known.   As Mason relates it, "Throughout the evening, I went up and* down the bar and from table to table buying drinks and shaking hands.   By 10:45 or so, I was tired, nearly broke and drunk. "
As he prepared to leave, however, a black man called him by his first name.   Mason didn't recognize him but figured he must have been someone he had met once and forgotten. The man introduced himself as James Googe and asked Mason to buy him and his friend, George Williams, a drink. Mason ended up buying a couple of rounds of drinks and talked with them about his political intentions, which Googe seemed interested in. Mason was on the verge of leaving again when Googe asked him if he needed a typewriter for his campaign.
Unfortunately, Mason did.   At that stage his staff had been borrowing and renting typewriters to do their work. Googe said he and Williams were employees at Lexington's IBM plant and, as such, could purchase typewriters damaged in the factory.   He said he had one then he wanted to sell.
Mason told him he was interested and asked Googe to call him in a day or two about it.  Googe said the typewriter was outside in Williams' car and insisted they look at it then.
"Whether it was my naivete in a seemingly soul-brother situation, or the fact that I had had too much to drink, or a combination of both, " Mason says, "no reason came to my mind which told me to forget the deal right there." So they went outside to Williams' car to take a look.
All Mason could see in the dark was a box with "IBM" on the side, and he was feeling too tired to pursue the matter further, so he asked Googe once again to call him the next day about it. Googe said he only wanted $100 for it and that Mason could take it right then.