When the question period ended, the New Crusader dutifully stood by the lectern and shook hands with his devoted followers. The Teamsters, dressed in dark suits, white shirts, and dark overcoats, filed by and pumped his hand. "Great speech Jimmy. Atta boy, Jimmy. Good to see you, Jimmy." After the greetings and the handshakes were over, the New Crusader, his wife and a few friends drove to the Law School for a reception.

The reception was held on the second floor of the Pound Building in a spacious room covered by a plush, orange wall-to-wall carpet. Bowls of pretzels, potato chips and shrimp lined every table. Directly in front of the door was a make-shift bar manned by two students who graciously mixed drinks for all comers. The majority of Law School students sat together in small circles, sipping gin and tonics and delicately chewing shrimp. In the corner of the room, just behind the bar, stood the New Crusader, surrounded by two of his attorneys, several reporters and a couple of Law students who asked question after question. The New Crusader drank an Orange Fanta, munched on some shrimp, and gave every question a quick, direct answer.

"Did you ever get put in isolation?" "No, they didn't have the balls."

WHAT DO YOU think of Congressman Conyers?" "John's a fighter. You know, Conyers was a shop steward in my union once. I told the boys to bring me three colored fellas, two dark, one light. One of the guys they sent me was Conyers, and I made him a Congressman."

"What kind of a job did you have at Lewisburg?" "I worked all alone in the clothing room stuffing mattresses."

"What did you get paid?" "Nothing. If you have money of your own, you don't get paid a cent."

"Do you think anyone could ever unionize inmates?" "Hell yes, overnight."

"If you become president of the Teamsters again, will you organize prisoners?" "No, but if the inmates are no strike, we won't send in our trucks."

"What do you think are the most crucial penal reforms?" "We need uniform sentencing, proper classification on inmates when they enter prison, and real educational and vocational programs inside the prison so the inmates are prepared for some kind of job when they're finally freed."

"Do you think conjugal visiting would reduce homosexuality in prisons?" "Hell no. Most of these guys are homosexuals before they enter prison."

After about thirty minutes of questions, the New Crusader flashed a quick sandpaper smile, shock hands all around, excused himself, and then retreated to the for corner of the room confer with several members of his entourage. His lawyers, however, kept circulating, defending Jimmy, talking up prison reform, and downing drinks. One attorney, Mo Krislov, was particularly entertaining.

Krislov was an enormously fat man with strands of dark, wet hair plastered back across his head to protect the bald spots. He spoke in a soft, high-pitched voice.

Krislov started by attacking the severity of the jury tampering sentence. "The average time for this crime in six months to a year, assuming, of course, that they guy's guilty. Jimmy got much more."

KRISLOV THEN REMINISCED about the frantic final weeks before, the New Crusader was finally sent to prison. "You know, I think I was the first guy to tell Jimmy that he was headed for jail. Jimmy took me aside one day and asked me how much time he had left. I said, 'Jimmy, you got only a week, two weeks at most because the Supreme Court just isn't going to consider your appeal.' Jimmy just started at me."

Mo mopped his forehead with a handkerchief and then continued. "When Jimmy realized what I had said, he brought is two other attorneys and asked them if, in their opinion, he had only a few weeks left. They just said 'well, maybe' or it's hard to tell.' Then Jimmy said 'Listen, I gotta know.' And they said 'Jimmy, that's what it looks like.'"

Mo paused a few seconds to catch his breath and then plunged ahead. "When Jimmy heard the news, he was a little worried, I'll admit. I mean, he and I went on this walk, and he was walking 200 miles an hour. I couldn't keep up with him."

Mo ignored the sweat which was trickling down under his glasses and went on with the story. "Like I said, Jimmy was worried, but he wasn't scared. He spent his last two weeks fixing up the union so when he left, the other boys could carry on. He took the whole experience like a man, in every sense of the word."

By the time Mo finished his story, it was almost 11:30 p.m. The New Crusader was ready for some sleep. After a few quick goodbyes and a few firm handshakes, he strode out of the Pound Building with his wife and friends and headed for bed.

Is the New Crusader for real? Many people have their doubts. Yet for the past seven months he has carried on a tireless campaign for penal reform. His speech at Harvard was both sincere and convincing. Jimmy Hoffa spent almost five years at Lewisburg. During that time he witnessed two riots, two strikes, incidences of guard brutality, mass rapes, stabbings, and murder. He spent most of his days stuffing mattresses in the prison's clothing room. For the first time in his life, Jimmy Hoffa was pushed around. He hasn't forgotten the experience