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Whittle Communications, a publishing company that planned a chain of for-profit schools, employed Alexander as a consultant in 1987, between his term as Governor and his appointment as president of the University of Tennessee. In return, the Alexanders were given the right to purchase $10,000 in stock, which they did. Company founder Chris Whittle, however, did not cash the Alexanders' check until October 1988, after Whittle agreed to sell part of his company to Time Inc., which pushed the stock price up sharply. Two months later, Whittle bought back the Alexanders' stock for $330,000.
Blackberry Farm, a romantic $200-a-night inn and restaurant in the Appalachian foothills, was one-third owned by Alexander when he became president of the university. Having informed school officials that he had disposed of his interest in the inn, he began recommending it for university functions--14 of them that eventually cost $64,626. What he didn't disclose was that he had transferred his interest in the inn to his wife. Had they known of Honey Alexander's interest in the inn, university officials "would have continued their objections," according to a 1992 state report.
The Ingram Group, run by Alexander's gubernatorial chief of staff Tom Ingram, received $36,472 from the university for a study of ways to sell more football tickets. Those payments were steered to Ingram by Alexander, and when university officials objected, Alexander directed that the funds be routed through a third party.
The Memphis law firm of Baker Donelson Bearman & Caldwell has paid Alexander $295,000 over the past year, even while he has been campaigning full time. He has filed no hourly billings, but instead is paid for "strategic advice" to three large clients. A former partner of the firm, describing the arrangement to the Wall Street Journal, said, "I think it's clearly an investment in case he becomes President."
If so, that investment is looking far better than it did only a week ago. Drawing large and responsive crowds in New Hampshire, Alexander sharpened his "compassionate conservative" pitch, promising to "get Washington off our backs, and us off our butts." If parents don't like their kids seeing trashy talk shows and R-rated movies on cable, he says, they shouldn't just blame Hollywood; they should "turn off the TV and read to your kids." He would abolish the Department of Education (a move he never mentioned when he was running the place) and return Medicaid, the health program for the poor and disabled, to the states. He wants welfare to be administered entirely by nonprofit community groups, with the help of a new $500 tax credit for charitable contributions.
Meanwhile, Alexander has sought to appease the Republican right in ways that are at odds with his moderate record. Since 1994 he has adopted tortured new positions on abortion and affirmative action. He promises a "fifth branch of the military" to patrol U.S. borders for illegal immigrants and drug smugglers. And he allowed last week, in response to questions, that if he won the nomination, he would "consider" Pat Robertson, the loopy televangelist, as his running mate.