Associated Press
NEW YORK -- Anthony Marshall has had a life of privilege and pain as philanthropist Brooke Astor's only child.
Born into wealth, he joined the Marines after high school and was wounded in the battle of Iwo Jima. He later became an ambassador, author and Broadway producer before his life began to crumble when his own son accused him of mistreating the aged Astor and doyenne of New York society who married into one of the country's first ultra-rich families.
As he faces the possibility of spending the rest of his life in prison, Marshall is taking a surprisingly personal approach to stay free.
Convicted of looting the fortune his mother so generously shared, the ailing 85-year-old Marshall faces sentencing Monday on charges that carry a mandatory prison term of at least a year and as long as a quarter-century. His lawyers say any prison time could kill him.
Marshall could remain free on bail during an expected appeal, but he is trying first for a dismissal of the part of his October conviction that requires prison.
He now depicts himself in court papers as a boy who eagerly took the name of a stepfather who "wanted no part of me in his life," and as a man so frail he sometimes needs his wife's help to relieve himself. Marines, ministers and friends -- including Whoopi Goldberg and Al Roker -- portray him in letters to the court as a dedicated son and public-spirited man misconstrued as a symbol of patrician greed.
"People like Tony, who are the sons and daughters of the very wealthy, are often misunderstood and face unjustified harsh reaction based solely on who they are and how they are perceived," wrote Goldberg, a neighbor in Marshall's Manhattan apartment building. "Hasn't Tony been through enough?"
Astor's third husband, Vincent Astor, was the great-great-grandson of John Jacob Astor, who made a fortune in fur trading and New York real estate and was among the country's first multimillionaires. She gave away nearly $200 million to institutions and was awarded a Presidential Medal of Freedom for her generosity, the nation's highest civilian honor.
When she died in 2007 at age 105, she left a fortune worth nearly $200 million.
