Stephen Gilpin - Trump U: The Inside Story of Trump University

2018 Stephen Gilpin

Published by OR Books, New York

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All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopy, recording, or any information storage retrieval system, without permission in writing from the publisher, except brief passages for review purposes.

First printing 2018

Cataloging-in-Publication data is available from the Library of Congress.

ISBN 978-1-94486-973-1 paperback

ISBN 978-1-94486-974-8 ebook

Text design by Under|Over. Typeset by AarkMany Media, Chennai, India.

Published for the book trade by OR Books in partnership with Counterpoint Press. Distributed to the trade by Publishers Group West.

One warm evening three years after the end of Trump University, I drove from my office on West Thirty-Sixth Street to the West Side Highway, then south to the Brooklyn Battery Tunnel, finally arriving at my home on Ocean Parkway in Brooklyn. My experience at Trump University was like a strange dream that was gradually fading. I had moved on with my life and was happy to be serving as the director of the New York Real Estate Institute. In the old days with Trump U., I had a car and driver, but now I drove myself, and I didnt mind. After parking in the underground garage of my apartment building and walking through the lobby, I glanced out to the street before I got into the elevator. I noticed a sheriffs car parked in front of the building with two officers standing next to it. Not thinking much about it, I went directly to my top floor penthouse. I was surprised to find a subpoena taped to my door. Shocked and rattled, I took the document and went inside.

Before I had a chance to open the envelope there was a knock. When I opened the door, my neighbor said breathlessly, Steve, there were people here looking for youpolice officers!

Police? A subpoena? What was going on? My first thought was that I was being sued. I didnt know why the police were involved, but after I thanked my nosy neighbor and closed the door, I read the subpoena.

I was being subpoenaed to be a witness in the State of New Yorks lawsuit against Donald J. Trump and Trump University. Like everyone else, I had read in the newspaper that on August 24, 2013, Attorney General Eric Schneiderman had filed suit against Trump for fraud, alleging that Trump University was a scam built around the practice of upselling gullible people. The suit maintained that the sole purpose of the for-profit company was separating students from their money as quickly and efficiently as possible.

This lawsuit was serious business. Any lawsuit involving Donald J. Trump was serious business. The State of New York was a powerful opponent. As for Donald Trump, I knew that if you got in his way hed flatten you like roadkill and then blame you for stepping in front of his armored midnight-blue Rolls-Royce.

As a former employee of Trump University, I was caught in the middle. I didnt want to be collateral damage in this titanic struggle. With a rising feeling of panic, I knew I had to hire a top lawyer. I also knew that I could not afford a top lawyer.

I called up what was left of the organizationby this time there was just a skeleton staff and an office. I spoke to an old colleague who was still there and explained my situation. He offered to connect me with a lawyer who worked for Trump U. I thought this was a generous offer. Mr. Trump had the back of his former employees. Little did I know that while one friendly hand was on my shoulder, the other held a sharp knife.

I called the lawyer. His name was Avi Schick. After listening to what I said, he told me without hesitation, Stay quiet and stay in your house until we meet. Dont talk to anybody. Dont talk to the news.

News? What would the news want with me, Stephen Gilpin, a meat-and-potatoes real estate guy? I soon found out. I went to Starbucks to get coffee and found reporters stalking me and taking pictures of me, and soon the story appeared in the New York Post .

This was not what I wanted. While it may be Donald Trumps bedrock belief that the highest goal in life is to get your picture in the newspaper, it was not my style. I liked being anonymous. During my next phone call with Mr. Schick, he told me that I would need to meet with him for at least two hours every day to prepare for my deposition.

How on earth could I afford that? Schick was a heavyweight. He was one of those guys who charged thousands of dollars an hour just to talk to you on the phone. In fact, while he was representing Trump University at the moment, he had previously served as deputy attorney general in the office of the New York State Attorney Generalthe same folks who were now suing Trumpwhere he had represented the state in significant litigations, investigations, and appeals in both federal and state trial and appellate courts. He had led all aspects of the states investigation and litigation involving executive compensation at the New York Stock Exchange, and he had also been the states lead lawyer handling all litigation related to the $200 billion tobacco master settlement agreement.

And now Avi Schick was working for Trump against his former bosses. Go figure. I guess that was just part of the strange and wondrous world of lawyers.

Schick said not to worry about the cost. He said that Donald Trump would personally pay my legal fees. That sounded good, but would I also be getting paid for the time that I missed from work? Oh no, youve got it wrong, Schick replied. Hes paying your legal fees. Thats it.

How am I supposed to meet with you for two hours every day? I asked. Is Donald Trump paying for me to stop working at my job?

No. What time do you get done with work?

Eight oclock.

Great, he said. Ill stay later at the office and well do it at night. I told Schick Id think about it.

After pouring myself a double bourbon on the rocks, I sat down and realized that I had a tough choice to make. As a Trump University insider, I was either going to testify for the state and give evidence against Trump University, or I was going to go with Donald Trump and support the university. Once, I had admired Donald Trump and thought the school could have been fixed. I also wasnt sure that the states lawsuit was justified. To me, unhappy studentsand there were many of themshould have been given refunds, but was it a criminal case?

I suppose I believed there had been a glimmer of purpose behind what we had been doing at Trump U, because it had been my job to attempt to deliver real knowledge and real value to the students. I had been the token real estate expert and lovable knucklehead among the many salespeople and motivational speakers aggressively selling the Trump message of boundless wealth. Aside from Donald Trump himself, for three years, I was just about the only guy in the organization who had substantial, down-to-earth real estate experience.

I talked to Schick again. He pressured me to go with Trump. Trust me, son, he said. You dont want the legal fees that youre going to have to pay if you go by yourself. Youre better off going with me. Ill keep you clean. Ill keep you out of jail.

Whoa, I said. Jail? What the hell could I go to jail for?

Being a witness was one thing, but how could I get incarcerated for this mess? It was not my responsibility. I was a W-2 employee. I didnt start the company. I didnt manage it. I was paid by Trump University. The company had gone under, but not by my hand. If there was criminality, it wasnt from me. I had been trying to help the students.