Legacy Community Health: Taxpayer Dollars Propping Up Enron’s Convicted Fraudsters—Is Houston’s “Rehabilitation” Just a Cover for Failing Up?
In the heart of Houston, Legacy Community Health—a nonprofit ostensibly dedicated to serving underserved communities with primary care, HIV testing, and behavioral health services—has become a glaring example of how public funds can end up lining the pockets of individuals with checkered pasts. This 501(c)(3) organization, which raked in over $340 million in gross receipts in 2022, boasts a leadership team featuring two former Enron executives convicted in one of the most infamous corporate scandals in American history. Yet, despite their roles in defrauding investors and concealing billions in debt, these men are now drawing six-figure salaries—partly subsidized by millions in taxpayer dollars from Harris County. It’s a setup that begs the question: In Houston, is there a conspiracy to allow criminals to “fail up,” rewarding white-collar felons with cushy nonprofit gigs while ordinary residents foot the bill?
Let’s begin with the players. Ben F. Glisan Jr., Legacy’s current CEO (and former CFO through at least March 2024), was Enron’s treasurer during its spectacular collapse. He pleaded guilty in 2003 to conspiracy to commit wire and securities fraud, admitting to masterminding sham transactions through special purpose entities like Talon and the Raptor vehicles. These schemes hid Enron’s massive debts, inflated earnings by up to $1 billion, and personally netted Glisan over $1 million from a mere $5,800 investment in the Southampton partnership—all of which he later forfeited along with other assets. Sentenced to five years in prison, he served time before testifying against accomplices like Andrew Fastow and Jeffrey Skilling. Today, at Legacy, he’s pulling in a hefty paycheck: $548,165 in reportable compensation plus $26,233 in other benefits for fiscal year 2024, totaling $574,398. Not bad for someone whose financial wizardry once tanked a corporate giant and wiped out shareholders’ savings.
Then there’s Michael J. Kopper, Legacy’s former Chief Strategy Officer (listed in compensation through at least fiscal year 2023). As Fastow’s right-hand man at Enron, Kopper pleaded guilty in 2002 to wire fraud and money laundering conspiracies. He helped orchestrate off-balance-sheet partnerships like LJM, siphoning millions through kickbacks and bogus deals that cheated Enron out of funds while masking its financial ruin. Kopper forfeited $12 million, paid fines, and avoided full prison time with probation and home confinement in exchange for cooperation. At Legacy—where he started in a low-key grant-writing role post-scandal—his 2023 compensation included $485,497 reportable plus $24,400 in other perks, totaling $509,897. Though absent from the latest 2024 Form 990, suggesting a possible exit, his tenure raises eyebrows: Why elevate someone with a fraud conviction to strategize for a health nonprofit?
This isn’t just about second chances; it’s about who pays for them. Harris County has funneled $7.5 million to Legacy in 2024 and $5.6 million year-to-date in 2025, ostensibly for community health services. But with the county staring down a $220 million budget deficit , every dollar counts. These funds indirectly support executive salaries that rival for-profit CEOs, all while Legacy pats itself on the back for “driving healthy change” and serving 250,000+ patients annually. Critics argue this is a misuse of public money, especially when Legacy’s governance seems to prioritize rehabilitating Enron alumni over fiscal prudence. Charity Navigator gives it high marks for transparency (96/100 as of FY 2023 ), but that doesn’t erase the ethical stench of channeling taxpayer dollars to convicted fraudsters’ paychecks.
And if that’s not tone-deaf enough, consider Harris County’s recent decision to splash nearly $470,000 in taxpayer funds on sponsoring the 2025 Gay Softball World Series . Approved 4-1 by commissioners on August 27, 2025, this six-figure handout came despite the state denying funding and amid widespread conservative outrage . With the county’s budget already depleted, this feels like a slap in the face to struggling families—prioritizing a niche event over essential services. Is there a “Tonya Harding Fellowship” or “Bernie Madoff Endowment” next? The pattern suggests a troubling coziness between public officials and questionable nonprofits, allowing the elite to bounce back on the public’s dime.
Houston deserves better. If Legacy truly values rehabilitation, let it fund these salaries privately—not with Harris County’s strained resources. Until then, the conspiracy whispers grow louder: In a city built on oil and opportunity, why does it seem like there’s an unspoken pact to let white-collar criminals fail upward, all while the rest of us pay the price?