With the impeachment thankfully picking up broad public support, there has been a noticeable increase in questionable letters-to-the editors denigrating the media reports on Trump’s disastrous deficiencies, while the outraged constituents slavishly cite his hyped successes as president and as a New York developer
In such a recent letter in the malleable Malibu Times, a writer stated there was no testimony to the contrary from anyone who had worked for his family business that Trump rose to the top of the toughest real estate market in the world on his financial acumen and moral worth.
While not wanting to disclose something that is a personal family embarrassment, I felt compelled to respond that I hate to pop the writer’s hot air balloon, but he had been sadly misinformed as to Trump’s rep in NY.
My father in the last mid century was Fred Trump’s contracted interior decorator, for whom I dutifully toiled for free on Saturdays delivering furniture and draperies. Not incidentally during the week I worked as a reporter for the NYTimes, the hands on experience serving me well years later when I was the design critic for the L.A Times.
We lived near the Trumps in Jamaica Estates, Queens, and Fred used to visit our store and workshop, where I remember him giving out cheap cigars when I think Donny was born, or was it when they sent him off to military school. ( reform school for the rich) .
The Trumps were your typical cut-the-corners, slow-to-pay petty nickel-and-dime NY builders. Cheap. You gave him his due, and he, ours, after the usual threats and bargaining.
As for young Donny, he grew up in his Dad’s shadow, when I knew and didn’t like him. Ignominiously at a military school, then as a diddling developer, he was a privileged prick, in New York parlance, a schmuck.
Trump was sued for seemingly everything, including rental discrimination against minorities. He was in sum a bad joke in the local media, and an anathema in the building trades where I was later involved.
But that he was a hustler and whoremaster back then there was no argument. You didn’t turn your back on Donny, drink his Kool Aid, or give him any benefit of a doubt. And we as a nation should not now.