I haven't seen Andrew Cuomo for 26 years, but he doesn't appear to have changed much.
A bully. A pugilist. A person who believes that power is there to be grabbed and wielded, often at the expense of others. I'd be lying if I claimed to know him well, but in my dealings with him I always found him — as so many people have before and since — arrogant and brash, with a challenging, teasing, aggressive, competitive, sometimes belittling style.
Now the governor of New York, at 63, is trying to salvage his career. On Tuesday, he was accused by the state attorney general, after a five-month-long investigation, of sexually harassing a number of women who worked for him, retaliating against at least one when she spoke out and creating a toxic work environment that employees described as "bullying," "vindictive" and "creepy." The investigators said they found credible evidence that he had kissed and groped employees and that he made inappropriate comments.
The governor issued an 85-page denial, but many Democrats — including President Joe Biden and House Speaker Nancy Pelosi — called for his resignation.
When I knew him in the late 1980s and early 1990s, it was his father, Mario Cuomo, who was the governor, and I was a reporter covering the administration.
Andrew (which is what everybody called him) was the cocky, chain-smoking crown prince who had run his father's first campaign at age 24 and still had a special phone line directly into the governor's office. He was often described as "Mario without the charm," which was funny because Mario was both enormously charming, and at the same time, a bully in his own right. Andrew learned lots - down to the timbre of his voice and the inflection of his words — from his father.
I met him in 1988, when he was working for a New York law firm, planning his next career steps. Andrew once spent half an hour trying to talk me out of writing a story he wasn't eager to see in the paper - he cajoled and pushed and he browbeat, but he wasn't abusive or threatening.
I also remember an hour or so we spent together just after midnight at his father's campaign office a few days before the 1994 election. Mario was losing, but I found Andrew a lot more relaxed and tolerable at that late hour of the day than I ever had before. I can't remember what we were drinking but I know the conversation was off the record.