the Saudi Students’ Signatures
Ginger Mooney & the Funny Papers
Recently, a multi-agency government inquiry was commenced to investigate how four Saudi Arabian students — who were individually facing legal proceedings in Oregon — disappeared after representatives of their country posted bail.
The students had been charged with Class A and B felonies ranging from Encouraging Child Sexual Abuse to Manslaughter in the First Degree. Their cases took place over the span of years and in three different counties. Yet all were represented by attorney Ginger G. Mooney.
Remarkably, despite the fast and furious storm of reporting, the question that the inquiry and the media seems to be focused on is if — yes, if — the Saudi government abetted the students’ disappearances.
The question which is strangely not being asked, is whether Mooney assisted the Saudi government in the students’ departure, and if so, exactly who helped her, knew, or should have known about those activities?
When something goes horribly wrong in a case, the search for answers must begin with a review of the actual court filings and audio recordings. In Mooney’s Saudi cases, the records are a mess — seemingly deliberately so.
A record of a case is not much of a record if an outside party cannot go back into it at a later date and discern what happened, in what sequence, and to what result. Evidence submitted must be numbered, witnesses must be named, and handwritten notes must be legible. Ethical and qualified legal professionals know how to leave just such a record.
It is therefore curious that Mooney and others involved in these cases were so thoroughly sloppy.
One thing stands above even the general disarray of the four dockets and commands attention, however: strikingly similar signatures on security release paperwork and other documents in otherwise unrelated cases.
Mooney and others seem to have some explaining to do.
On August 19, 2016, Abdulrahman Sameer Noorah, a Saudi studying in Portland, ran down and killed high school sophomore Fallon Smart as she was crossing the street. Witnesses said that Noorah was speeding, weaving through traffic, and did not attempt to stop.
After his booking, Noorah signed the last page of a motion seeking a recognizance release. This signature is believed to be authentic, as it was obtained during an interview with a release assistance officer and conducted while Noorah was in custody.
On or around that date, a second signature, allegedly by Noorah, witnessed by unknown person “David McGary,” bears little resemblance to the first.
Five more of the defendant’s “signatures” would follow, on documents ranging from a Waiver of Speedy Grand Jury to a Waiver of Extradition, all filed with the Multnomah County Circuit Court.
These five shared a more consistent shape and hand, i.e. they looked more or less like they were all signed by the same person. Yet they did not resemble the first signature at all, and only slightly resembled the second.
Two of the five consistent signatures were on Noorah’s security release papers, inked after Mooney arrived with a check from the Saudi Consulate.
This is where it gets interesting.
A few years prior to Noorah’s case, in not-so-nearby Polk County, Mooney represented Abdulaziz Hamad Al Duways, charged with Rape and Sexual Abuse in the First Degree. As had happened in Noorah’s case, the Saudi Consulate arrived with bail money for their jailed student.
There were two signatures on the security release papers, allegedly those of Al Duways.
Those two “signatures,” allegedly of Al Duways, bear a striking resemblance to the five consistent “signatures” of Noorah.
Here they are, side by side:
Nobody had compared these cases and signatures until now because nobody had recognized this as a pattern until a few months ago.
So, what does this all mean?
For starters, there is a legitimate concern that papers and filings that were supposed to be signed by the defendants in the cases were somehow improperly signed instead by another unknown individual, or perhaps even by Mooney herself.¹
If so, that would be problematic for any court staff or other authorities who “witnessed” those signatures or had a hand in their filing with the courts.
It would also be unethical and illegal for Mooney to file documents to whose authenticity and truthfulness she had falsely sworn — although it’s doubtful that alone would be a career-ender.
But it should mean something to the public.
It may feel good to be angry at the Saudi Arabian government, but it should not stop there. We must be equally as angry with anyone in the United States who assisted with the crime of flight from justice — especially anyone employed in our judiciary.
As an aside, several years ago, I had to travel overseas for work, and realized a few weeks’ prior that my passport was going to expire mid-trip. I had to rush-arrange a new one through an expediting service.
There, they made me sign two pieces of paper to submit with my application and payment. However, the woman running the show rejected these papers because my signatures — even though witnessed by her — were “not similar enough.”
I apologized for my inconsistent and messy J. Hancock and tried again.
After a half hour of signing and re-signing and burning through a quarter ream of paper, I was broken, in tears, and ready to admit to nearly any crime she accused me of. I begged her to pick two and leave my corpse on the sidewalk.
The two signatures that she finally and begrudgingly chose — and which the United States passport authority ultimately accepted — bore less of a resemblance to each other than the alleged signatures of Al Duways and Noorah do.
In other words, their two separate “signatures” would have garnered a United States passport more easily than I was able to obtain one.
¹After viewing hundreds of signatures of other Saudis and Arabic writers, I can say there is something distinctly American or Western about the loopiness of this handwriting.
