The state plane is a flying jalopy, acquired as part of a purchase of federal surplus property. It is a forty-year-old twin-engine prop plane that seats about five people. You get in it and feel as if you are sitting in a tube of toothpaste. I have history with this plane: It was the backup to the governor’s plane when my father came into office in 1983. His regular plane was a G1—a Grumman 1, the approximate size of the current G4s or G5s. It sat about sixteen people and was quite comfortable. In my father’s last election, his opponent made a campaign issue out of the use of the state plane and then sold it upon taking office. But the new governor still had to travel and couldn’t buy a new plane, so the state then purchased several helicopters to replace the G1. The helicopters were fine to operate between New York City and Albany, but are not really functional, as they can’t make it to the western part of the state and can’t fly in any bad weather. So any airplane travel had to be done in the original backup to the G1, the plane I was in today.
In 1982, I was working for my father as a special assistant to the governor, and I had recruited my friend at the time Tim Russert to join as press secretary. Tim and I had taken this plane to Buffalo, Tim’s hometown, to do an official event. After the event, which was after five o’clock in the evening, Tim wanted to show me some of Buffalo’s special places. A couple of those special places were dining establishments that also served beverages. Afterward we got back on the plane to fly to Albany, and the pilot said that there were some storm clouds en route but that he thought everything would be okay. Some storm clouds turned out to be near-hurricane-force winds. The plane bounced like a basketball going down the court. At one point, Tim and I were launched from our seats and hit the ceiling with full-body force. In fairness, the pilot did say to keep our seatbelts buckled, but we missed that point.
The bouncing airplane and the beverages from Tim’s select Buffalo spots, combined with several dozen buffalo wings between us, were a toxic brew. By the time we got back to Albany, we were both a shade of green. I remember Tim getting off the plane swearing that he would “never get on that piece of s— again.” That same plane is what I fly in today. I’m sure Tim is looking down and enjoying a hearty laugh.
The plane should be retired. It has had to make a number of emergency landings, and every legislative leader who has been on it has commented that it needs to be replaced. However, given the political pressures, I don’t want to be in a situation where I’m justifying to the public why we spent millions of dollars on an airplane. It just sounds offensive.
With the headwinds, the plane was traveling at half speed. I felt I could have driven my car faster.
It felt as if the flight took a week. Plus, I hate being late because it’s disrespectful. We landed with minutes to spare, and after a maniacal car ride we made it to the White House on time.
Joining us at the White House meeting with President Trump about the Trusted Traveler Program were the acting Department of Homeland Security secretary, his deputy, the chief of staff, the counsel to the president, and some other people I didn’t recognize. I explained how the Trusted Traveler Program was totally disconnected from the issue of turning over the undocumented driver list. The president listened and understood. The Homeland Security secretary was incapable of explaining any plausible rationale to connect the two issues. The president said at one point that he understood that DHS wanted leverage over me and was using the Trusted Traveler Program to do just that.
For the president, making a deal and using leverage are his basic modes of operation. He had ostensibly written a book, The Art of the Deal, that celebrated the practice. But in government, you are supposed to make decisions based on an issue’s individual merits.
If I wanted the Trusted Traveler Program, I would have to give them the undocumented driver list. This was not leverage; it was extortion. The fact that I had the conversation in the Oval Office in front of top staff and lawyers and for no one to be appalled by it was breathtaking to me.
In my mind, this was the fallout of Trump being let off the hook by the Republican Senate in the impeachment trial. His administration thought they could now act with impunity. And it was all I needed to know about the people I was dealing with. There was no way that I would give them the undocumented driver list; it would be a feeding frenzy for ICE. And this would not be the last they heard of the matter. This was reprehensible, unethical behavior at best, and I would not let them get away with it.
Months later, on the afternoon of July 23, my phone rang. It was Alexander Cochran, my Washington representative, who had worked with me since HUD, who together with Sarah Paden, a top talent who is as sharp as a tack, manages federal affairs for New York State. “You’re never going to believe this,” Alexander said. “The Department of Homeland Security just issued a statement saying they are allowing New York back into the Trusted Traveler Program.”
We had been fighting with the Department
