Tentacles of Madoff scandal reach far and wide

NEW YORK — In the nonprofit legal center Steven Schwartz runs from a converted furniture store in Northampton, Massachusetts, the e-mail was very good news: By week’s end, a check for $243,000 would be on its way.

The money couldn’t come soon enough. The sharp downturn in the economy had put Schwartz’s group - working to improve treatment of teen offenders with mental illnesses - under very tight budget pressure. At least the check was a promise he could count on.

By that Thursday, though, events were unfolding 160 miles (257 kilometers) away that would upend those assumptions and assurances. In a federal courtroom in lower Manhattan, a Wall Street wizard stood before a judge, charged with running a $50 billion fraud that targeted scores of wealthy and powerful investors.

The name of the accused, Bernard L. Madoff, meant nothing to Schwartz and why should it? He’d never heard of the money manager with the beachfront mansion and the 55-foot (16-meter) yacht. They’d certainly never met. There was no reason to think they had anything in common.

Except, it turned out, the money.

In the days since Madoff’s Dec. 11 arrest, the tale has repeatedly been told of wealthy victims who, perhaps naively, invested their trust in a man who promised financial miracles.

But the scale of the Madoff scandal can just as well be measured in its still-widening ripples, reaching far-flung people and causes - from a group helping just-released inmates find jobs in Rhode Island to another working to provide fresh food in poor neighborhoods in Detroit and Oakland, California.

Their future is now in jeopardy - a painful reminder of the financial web linking very different worlds.

World of real estate

Signing up companies for office space in Manhattan skyscrapers made Norman F. Levy a very rich man.

In the hotly competitive but tight-knit world of New York commercial real estate, Levy worked across more than seven decades brokering leases in midtown’s towers. When he died in 2005 at 93, he was hailed as an elder statesman of the trade whose zest for the deal was matched by his generosity with both friendship and money.

“Your spirit and love of life have touched and changed all who knew you,” one friend of 40 years wrote in a paid death notice for Levy that ran in The New York Times. “You taught me so much. I’ll cherish our relationship forever.”

The friend was Bernard Madoff.

The real estate broker and the money manager were separated by 26 years, but they and their families had formed a friendship reinforced by shared interests, social circles - and trust.

Levy and Madoff were active in some of the same organizations, like New York’s Yeshiva University. They donated their money to many of the same causes - groups including the Lincoln Center Theater and Gift of Life, a South Florida charity that tries to save Jewish leukemia victims by matching them with bone marrow donors.

In the summer, both families headed to the Hamptons. When Norman F. Levy died, he was staying at his daughter’s house fronting the Atlantic in Montauk, just a few sprawling lots away from the mansion owned by the Madoffs.

For more than 30 years, the Levys also entrusted their personal investments to Madoff. When they chartered the Betty and Norman F. Levy Foundation - which reported assets last year of $244.4 million - as the vehicle for their charitable giving, they again put their trust in their longtime friend.

“My father believed in Bernie Madoff,” Norman Levy’s son, Francis - who declined to comment for this article - said in a recent interview with FOX Business News. “The one thing he said about Bernie (was), ‘If there’s one honorable person, it’s Bernie.’”