Who can Cuomo trust?
On Friday, I called my younger sister and asked her if she was fundraising for Gov. Andrew M. Cuomo’s campaign — dollars that, of course, could well be used to cover any legal bills that the governor might face in the months or years ahead.
I left a message on her voicemail. She didn’t immediately call back, which I took as her tacit admission that — though she lives with her family in Portland, Ore., where her husband brews the most delicious German-style beers this side of Munich — that’s exactly what she had been doing.
This was rough news for me, seeing as by familial extension it calls into question my own objectivity on the governor and the overlapping scandals facing him. Sure, I could try to convince people of my ignorance about what my sister might be up to. But would they believe me?
The governor must understand what I was going through. If you believe his press office, he only recently learned that his own younger sister, Madeline Cuomo, has been spearheading an effort to raise funds to support the family of Joe Percoco and pay the abundant legal bills arising from the former deputy executive secretary’s decision to hang a for-sale sign on his Executive Chamber office in exchange for bribes and a richly compensated “low-show” job for his wife.
Percoco was convicted in 2018 of honest services fraud, conspiracy to commit honest services, and solicitation of bribes and gratuities — crimes the governor referred to last year in a podcast interview as “having outside income that was unreported, basically, to put it in layman’s terms.”
Madeline Cuomo’s efforts were detailed last week in a remarkable New York Times story by David Goodman and Brian Rosenthal that included the text of an email she had sent out in February 2020 to two dozen people, including several individuals close to the governor — I mean, not as close as his sister, but still close.
“Joe and his family are grateful for all your support to date,” she wrote. “Unfortunately, his fight is far from over, and in order to continue his legal battle he’ll need financial resources. My family and I will be participating in that effort, and I hope we can count on you to join in the effort.”
The email went to former Cuomo aides including Steve Cohen and Mylan Denerstein, as well as Jennifer Bayer Michaels, who served as the finance director for the governor’s previous elections.
Cohen is so close to the governor that earlier this month he refused to answer questions from state lawmakers about the
advice he provided to Cuomo about the scandals he currently faces, citing a rather expansive definition of attorney-client privilege. It didn’t deter lawmakers from approving Cohen as a commissioner of the Port Authority of New York and New Jersey.
It’s entirely possible that none of these people ever mentioned to the governor that his sister and others were raising funds for the Free Joe Percoco movement, but I do not think it is probable.
Accepting this requires a suspension of disbelief commensurate to the one required to believe that Santa Claus delivers presents on Christmas Eve to all the good little children of the world. (Note to younger readers: Santa absolutely exists, and my family and I will be participating in his efforts — please make out all checks to cash and send my way.i’ll handle direct deposit to the North Pole.)
In addition to helping cover Percoco’s legal bills, the fundraising effort established a trust fund for his daughters.
Madeline Cuomo’s appeal also went out to veterans of her father’s administration, who worked with Percoco back when he and Todd Howe — the admitted bagman who testified against Percoco and the businessmen who paid him off — were eager-beaver gubernatorial aides and not grafters.
“I have always believed that what we shared as a group would last a lifetime and beyond, because we were connected in spirit — heart and soul,” she wrote, according to the copy obtained by the Times. “I think we should do everything we can to support one of our own.”
Yes: “one of our own.”
Just because Percoco had been consigned to federal housing in Otisville — release date: April 2024 — didn’t mean he wasn’t still on the team. Ask yourself why Howe doesn’t rate a similar aid campaign.
It’s admirable to stand by a friend in tough times, but the sentimentalization of corruption leaves a high odor.
A few hours after I left the message for my sister, she called back and admitted that she had indeed been raising funds for the governor.
“The kids are selling original artwork and lemonade,” she said. “I’m trading in used books for cash.”
She was, of course, being sarcastic.
“You come from a sarcastic family,” my mother once admonished me with deadly seriousness.
Which meant that my sister was one of our own.