How To Get Rich by Trump Donald

Author:Trump, Donald [Donald, Trump,]
Format: epub
Published: 2010-07-05T04:00:00+00:00

Sometimes You Have to Hold a Grudge

For years, I supported the governor of New York Mario Cuomo. I was one of his largest campaign contributors. I never asked for a thing while he was in office. For my generous support, he regularly thanked me and other major contributors with a tax on real estate so onerous that it drove many investors away from the city. It became known as the Cuomo Tax.

After he was defeated for reelection by a better man (and governor), George Pataki, I called Mario to ask for a perfectly legal and appropriate favor involving attention to a detail at the Department of Housing and Urban Development, which at the time was being run by his son Andrew.

Mario told me that this would be hard for him to do, because he rarely calls the Secretary on business matters.

I said to him, Mario, he is not the Secretary. He’s your son.

Mario said, Well, I think of him as the Secretary, and I refer to him as that—he’s got a very serious job to do.

I understood Mario’s concern about impropriety, but I wasn’t asking him to do anything even slightly questionable—this was a simple, aboveboard request, the kind of favor that takes place between friends in the private and public sectors all the time. Finally, I asked Mario point-blank, Well, are you going to help me?

In a very nice way, he essentially told me no.

I did the only thing that felt right to me. I began screaming. You son of a bitch! For years I’ve helped you and never asked for a thing, and when I finally need something, and a totally proper thing at that, you aren’t there for me. You’re no good. You’re one of the most disloyal people I’ve known and as far as I’m concerned, you can go to hell.

My screaming was so loud that two or three people came in from adjoining offices and asked who I was screaming at. I told them it was Mario Cuomo, a total stiff, a lousy governor, and a disloyal former friend. Now whenever I see Mario at a dinner, I refuse to acknowledge him, talk to him, or even look at him.

I will say this, however. Mario’s wife, Matilda, is a fine woman and was a terrific friend to my mother. It’s not her fault that her husband is a loser.

Another failed politician who disappointed me is a man named Pete Dawkins, sometimes referred to as General Pete Dawkins. He led a charmed life—West Point cadet, Heisman trophy winner, Rhodes scholar, but as I found out, Pete was also a stiff. When he was running for the U.S. Senate in New Jersey against Frank Lautenberg, a magazine calledManhattan, Inc. published a damning profile of him, and Dawkins folded up like a broken umbrella.

One day, Dawkins came to my office and asked me to help him build the Vietnam Veterans Memorial in lower Manhattan. He asked for a million dollars (or more) because he said he was having bad luck raising money.

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