Opinion
Wednesday, July 16, 1997

Claude Lewis / Looking at America

No matter what his circumstances, Ira Einhorn has always been a self-starter. From the time he became known as the original Flower Child in Philadelphia in the '60s, he has found ways to use his massive energy and keep his active mind engaged.

So it's no surprise that while fighting efforts by the United States to extradite him from France, stemming from his conviction in the murder of his former girlfriend, Helen ``Holly'' Maddux, Einhorn, 57, fills his days teaching English classes to his fellow inmates.

When he is not holding class, he reads books from the prison library, as well as the paperbacks (hardcover is not allowed) his wife, Annika Flodin, provides. Because visitors are not permitted to carry packages into prison, Flodin has to mail packages.

Einhorn also spends time helping to plan the legal battle he hopes will keep him in France, far from Philadelphia, where he faces a sentence of life in prison for the murder he has always insisted he did not commit.

According to his mother, Bea, and his brother, Steve Einhorn, Ira remains upbeat. Occasionally, they receive calls from Flodin, who they say is ``extremely supportive of Ira.''

Einhorn has admitted to being lonely, but that may change. He has begun exchanging letters with several of his old pals from the United States. Many of them continue to believe he was framed for his girlfriend's murder, as he claimed before he fled Philadelphia for Europe in 1981, while out on $40,000 bail. He left just before his trial was to begin.

Initially, he stayed to himself in prison, looking forward to the twice weekly half-hour visits allowed his wife. She recently has been permitted a third half-hour visit each week.

``Isn't that a shame?'' Ira's mother lamented. ``You can hardly say hello in a half hour.''

She hopes to visit her son in France but must wait until her other son, Steve, recovers from an operation scheduled for today.

When Einhorn was arrested in Champagne-Mouton, a rural town of 1,000 in southwest France, he attempted to convince the 12 gendarmes and three judicial police officers that he was not Einhorn, but Eugene Mallon, a British writer. Mallon was actually the name of a friend, a Dublin bookseller, Einhorn had met several years earlier when he lived in Ireland.

In his possession was a passport bearing Mallon's name and Einhorn's picture. Mallon recently said he would very much like to hear from his old pal.

Until Einhorn was captured, Mallon was unaware of Einhorn's conviction in absentia in 1993 for the murder of Maddux, with whom he shared his Powelton Village apartment. Her mummified remains were discovered by police in a steamer trunk in a locked closet in the apartment on March 28, 1979, more than a year after Maddux disappeared.

Nothing has ever been simple in Einhorn's frenetic life, and his extradition will be no different. The legal complications are so rich that some say it could take up to three years before Einhorn steps foot on U.S. soil again. However, others believe a deal may be struck between the FBI and French authorities that could return him to Philadelphia within the next few months.

Given Ira Einhorn's history, almost anything is possible. From his youthful days as a counterculture self-styled visionary until today, he has been an enigmatic figure. Einhorn has been in prison since his luck finally ran out, after 16 years, on Friday, the 13th of June.

Claude Lewis' column appears on Mondays and Wednesdays.