Donovan versus Donald
D. D. Renforth
Donovan Trump sold an online product called Trumpers, an intangible product of hope, the spiritual version of a placebo. At least that’s what he had liked doing and had done for ten years after he had registered a company called The Trump Reality. At first, because he admired Dante, he thought of calling the product Dante or Paradiso—which in hindsight he wished he had done—but he realized that name implied too much. He wasn’t selling heaven and the offering had nothing to do with the fourteenth century writer. Then he considered “the Trumpet” because of how that instrument would announce grand affairs or the judgment, and, of course, reflect his name. Finally he settled on Trumper.
To Donovan, the Trumper was intended to be a ray of light, an inspiration, and an encouraging voice to those who needed it; to help those who felt life had conspired against them, and especially for those who wanted revenge on those who had lied to or betrayed them. They would receive the Trumper after they described their problems in an online questionnaire. The questionnaire was multiple choice and the results were quantifiable. If users described themselves as forty, in a divorce, with financial problems, in poor health, no children and how they were betrayed or deceived, the Trumper would say—assuming the user followed the guidelines that followed it—“Your health will soon be better, you will find someone else and marry her (or him), have children, soon have a new job, your financial worries would be over, and those who have hurt you will get their punishment.”
Then it would give the nine guidelines that aligned to those (and most) problems: “1) think more highly of yourself, 2) stop any addictions you have, 3) seek help from a friend or professional if you’re always depressed or have physical ills, 4) find lovers that support and encourage you, 5) look for work that suits your talents and personality, 6) surround yourself with people who respect you and people you respect, 7) do something creative (learn a musical instrument, or how to paint, dance, sing, and so on), 8) spend more time in nature, and 9) smile, because the universe will take revenge.”
It was not a sophisticated program and did not have any original answers. Its desire to highlight revenge was again a result of Donovan’s infatuation with how Dante describes the consequences of different choices during one’s sojourn on the earth. The final two circles of hell were the consequences of those who chose a life of deceit, mendacity, and betrayal.
The Trumpers, like online astrology or card reading but with no mystical implications and using only the information the person offered, were general enough to fit almost any complaint. Trumpers sold for the “low price of fifty dollars.” A disclaimer was offered up front before anyone filled out the questionnaire as well as reminding the user there was no guarantee and no money back. The final line, in very small type, read: “Here’s a link to a free online copy of the Divine Comedy of Dante.”
*
For ten years Donovan made a decent living from the Trumper and his bartender job and was quite content until a man with his last name campaigned for president. As soon as the campaign began, Donovan was taken to court to change both his company’s name and the company’s product. Advisors of the candidate believed the website was selling something that was nothing but lies and false hope and would unfairly benefit from the name Trump.
Donovan had no funds to battle this accusation in court. He was not a billionaire or had any extra savings. His family could not afford even to give him a college education and they all hoped that they never became really sick because they could not afford to go to a doctor. His parents and he lived alone in a small apartment on Myrtle Avenue in Brooklyn, New York, where he worked as a bartender for five years. Despite his low income, his parents and friends said that he should at least try to fight back. He had devoted many hours to the web site. Why should he give up his little business because of a name, a name that after all was his name too? They asked for loans from friends and relatives to help him. Each contributed a little, but they could not find enough to hire a lawyer who specialized in this kind of legal action. Lack of funds forced him to choose legal aid.
On the one side of the courtroom were a group of lawyers and their assistants, difficult to distinguish one from the other in their Armani suits, white shirts, and striped black and red ties, and on the other side, there were two people, Donovan and his legal aid lawyer, both casually dressed. Donovan was sweating and on the edge of shaking. Never had he or his family been in a courtroom; never had any of them been accused of any crime. Now the sight of this group of well-dressed lawyers facing him and his lawyer was so intimidating that for quick moments Donovan forgot that he was the accused. Though his lawyer told him he had nothing to fear, even if he did lose the case, Donovan believed that they might take him to jail if he did not win. His head was bowed, his eyes on the table or, if he turned around, in the eyes of his family or friends, but never in the eyes of the candidate’s lawyers or the judge. All of these people from Brooklyn recognized that this was an arena in which he (and they) did not belong and could not feel safe. The rich were never their friends. It was like ancient Rome and the Coliseum where the slave gladiators, with meager weapons, are brought in to face the finest Roman soldiers or the lions. No, his situation was worse. The gladiators at least had training.
The group of lawyers showed through testimonies and witnesses that there was “absolutely no scientific basis to the Trumper,” “no certainty that the person could actually change his or her life by following the Trumper’s advice,” and through people who claimed to have used the website, could cause emotional harm. The website, the lawyers concluded, was “preying on people’s misfortunes” and was fraudulent, even with a disclaimer. Such a dishonest connection to the Trump name brought disgrace not only to the candidate but to the name itself.
Donovan’s lawyer responded that the site did not promise to be based in science or to change someone’s life. It offered advice. Was the advice unsound? The lawyer used the site in front of the judge to show that there was no harm in the suggestions.
When Donovan, his parents and his friends left the courtroom, after hearing sufficient embarrassing comments to kill the credibility of his website forever as well as try to make Donovan feel ashamed, a large group of reporters besieged him. They did not ask him questions about him, the case, or his website; they wanted to know what he knew about the candidate. Donovan confessed that he had never met or knew anything about him. What he did know was that he was unrelated to him and that this case of Trump verses Trump was unfair. Then he ended with the cryptic statement: “One of us will end in the eighth or ninth circle and it will not be me.” This statement was a reference to Dante and the circles of the Inferno in the Divine Comedy, especially the nine circles of hell.
The judge ruled in favor of the candidate because Donovan could make the same living using a different name for his company and the online product. The ruling would also not prevent him from making a living as a bartender.
Donovan complied with the court decision, closed off his company, and took down the website.
There were other similar cases. Not only was Donovan singled out. The candidate’s team filed against two brothers named Trump, also real estate tycoons like the candidate, because of their use of the name, but they lost only one of the cases.
It is unknown whether the candidate himself had knowledge of any of these cases, including the case against Donovan Trump.
Donovan’s case did stand out in one way. It was against someone who was not wealthy and could not realistically fight back. Many people, including those in the media, noticed that aspect from the start. Picking on the little guy was not the message the candidate had promoted. The candidate talked of making America great by returning business and jobs to America and ending a system that had run the country for decades that, in his view, had taken away the rule of government from the needs of the ordinary working men and women. All of these words were cloaked in a promise to improve the conditions of the little man, the worker, the blue-collar ordinary guy and gal. Yet in this situation the candidate was putting Donovan, a little man, out of business for the sake of his name.
*
The court decision did not end the publicity or the unwanted attention on Donovan. Supporters of the candidate came to his workplace not to drink or eat but to harass and insult him in front of the other customers. It became difficult for him to do his job with so many complaints and harsh comments from these intruders. The owners reluctantly asked him to resign.
Losing the case and his job made him visible to the public and the media and neither of them would relent. His photo often appeared as a caution to anyone who misused the Trump name. Media partisans of the candidate now knew about him and even though he was not related to the candidate, they still felt that he “knew something” or would harm him in some way, even though Donovan had not followed the election and what little he knew was from patrons of the bar.
To keep an eye on Donovan until the election was over, security for the candidate hired Gavin Shackleford, a middle aged, heavy set, veteran private detective and avid supporter of the candidate. They believed that Donovan might attempt some revenge on the candidate. There was, in fact, little to report. Donovan did nothing for several months after the case except sit in his apartment and look at television series. If he was rich, he would probably have left the country and started fresh elsewhere. Gavin’s reports did not reflect the facts. He claimed to his employers that Donovan was doing something nefarious in his home because of the many “shady” characters visiting him. The characters visiting Donovan were friends he had known since high school, who came to help him rebound from the denigrating experience. If Gavin had simply reported what he had seen and not what he suspected, interest in Donovan might have faded away, Gavin would have lost his job, and perhaps the story might have ended there. But if Gavin had done that, he would have lost a fee he desperately needed to pay for his mother’s medical bills. To keep paying his bills, something, anything, must happen.
What happened was that Donovan’s neighbors and friends became increasingly angry. They were already upset about the treatment of Donovan, but after several weeks of seeing Gavin, they would give him the finger and shout, “Go home! Leave him alone! We know who you are!” One of them—no one would admit to knowing—threw a rock at Gavin’s car and put a sizable dent in the back door. A group of them then came up to him in the car and told him, through his closed window, that if he did not stop spying on Donovan, they would hunt him down and start harassing his family or friends and continue to damage his property.
Gavin took these threats seriously. He lived with his wife and invalid mother and was as financially vulnerable as Donovan and his parents. Though none of Donovan’s friends had the time or interest in tailing Gavin or causing trouble—they all worked full-time jobs and were only interested in pressuring him to leave the neighborhood—these “punks,” as Gavin described them to his wife, “had all the signs of troublemakers. I’ve seen it before.”
His wife told him to drop the assignment. The punks could track him by his car license number. Gavin reminded her that his mother had huge medical bills which they now could finally afford. And how would he pay for the dent in the car? His deductible was high and would not cover it.
Gavin did not want to tell his employers for fear they would have no sympathy and relieve him. They would say that they hired him to watch Donovan. If he couldn’t do that, they would find someone else. Gavin did tell a couple of his friends on the police force in the local precinct about the dent in his car and the threats, hoping the police might scare them into leaving him alone.
*
Donovan was oblivious to all of these events; he sat on the couch day upon day without any interest in what occurred outside his room and with little energy to do anything except moan about the loss of his web site and his job. He had not tried very hard to find a new job because he believed no one in the hospitality field would hire him. His face was too familiar. His presence would be bad for business.
There were consequences of his lack of action. Their son’s lack of income was forcing his parents to dip into their limited savings to get by. Neighbors and local stores, well aware of and sympathetic about the problems caused by the court case, were helping with groceries and other necessary items, but they all knew that the problem could end if Donovan would start following the advice he gave everyone on his old Trumpers website. Several of the local businesses were willing to hire him temporarily, but Donovan was too distraught to accept and he felt too humiliated to be in the public.
The threats, the efforts to weaken him with the show of their power, and the confidence from the candidate’s advisors in the courtroom had paralyzed but did not prevent him from being rankled psychologically, as if he was one of those Dante and Virgil were observing. But what, after all, had he done? Was his website fraudulent? Did his life deserve a detective watching each of his actions? How is it possible to continue a normal life if his life—and the life of his parents—could be so easily manipulated? If these people who work for the candidate could stop him from using his own name, and if they could find and harass him wherever he worked, what was he to do? He had no other skill. Restaurants and bars were the source of his income ever since he graduated high school. Those jobs were always public and visible to any fanatic. What public establishment would take the chance of angering a candidate for president?
The constant criticism by the so-called experts in the court soured his mind on the idea of a similar website. He believed his motives were pure, but, he had to admit, he could understand their viewpoint. People were looking for answers and his website could not possibly consider the unique needs of each individual. He now thought the idea was at best naive.
If only he could go back in time and at least have his old job back. Life as a bartender was good for him. He had been almost an entertainer and certainly a confidante. It did not go unnoticed that he had the same surname as the candidate. Patrons laughed, asked him if he was related somehow, and taunted him when they learned he was not, “Don’t you wish you were?” But that novelty passed away within a couple of minutes. Most customers admitted to liking his open-mindedness and willingness to listen to their woes or opinions. Donovan intentionally took no side, but found worth in every side. This neutrality was not only because of his job—he could not offend his customers—but convenient because he knew too little to offer an intelligent or researched opinion. Religion, politics and relationships were the three controversial areas about which he would not take a side. Of course, those were the three areas most of the patrons liked to discuss.
His apathy, discontent, and lack of energy now were noticeable to everyone around him. He may have stayed in that frame of mind for a very long time if the police did not knock on his door one Saturday morning. In his home bubble a visit from the police was a fantasy. No one ever in his family had a visit from the police.
“Are you Donovan Trump?” one of the two officers asked.
Donovan nodded.
“May we come in?” he asked.
Donovan was so surprised to see the police that he hesitated opening the door, but after a moment he guided them to the living room, where they each took a seat.
“Several of your friends threatened a man in his car,” one of the officers began, “and one of them damaged his car. Do you know who threw the rock?”
“I know nothing about it. I didn’t see it.”
“But you heard about it?” the police asked.
“Everyone in the neighborhood heard about it. The guy’s been watching me since the court case. It bothers my neighbors; it bothers me. We don’t think it’s fair. Frankly, I’m surprised only one rock was thrown.”
“We’re not interested in your opinion of justice,” the officer said, “or if your neighbors can justify it in their minds; we’re here to warn you. We’ve already warned your friends. Tell them to stay away from him. This man was hired, as you must know, by a candidate for president to protect him from disgruntled and revengeful people. He’s only doing his job. He can sit on a street for as long as he wishes if he doesn’t disturb you.”
With that statement of warning, they rose and left.
An hour later his friends visited him and joked about how the police had interrogated them and him. They seemed to enjoy the small dose of danger. Authorities, as they put it, actually recognized them.
Donovan would not agree.
“Leave the detective alone,” Donovan said, “the cops are right. He’s only doing his job and I have nothing to hide. The villain here, if there is a villain, is not the detective but the person who hired him.”
“Of course there’s a villain,” one of his friends said. “How many people have someone watching them when they’re innocent? It’s not right. What are we going to do?”
“Nothing,” Donovan said. “I mean, you guys are doing nothing. Already you almost got yourself charged for harassment and for damaging his car. This is my business. The cops coming here and warning me made me sick in my gut. It’s gone too far. I never had a cop come to my house in my life.”
“So, what are you going to do?” his friend asked. “You’ve been sitting around here for weeks.”
“I’m not sure,” Donovan said, “depends on whether he gets elected, but I’m going to do something.”
In the next week, the bartender at a local bar near his house left for another job and the owner hired Donovan. It was a bar Donovan himself had been a patron. At the time Donovan did not know that the owner hated the candidate and was incensed at how Donovan was treated, how he lost both his job and his web business, and how a detective was watching him.
*
On the day that the candidate was elected, Donovan, spurred on by his friends and the owner of the bar, initiated a revenge he had planned for several weeks. He started another website whose sole purpose was to track every word Trump said in the campaign and in office, record it, and compare his statements to see whether or not the president was a liar, an ignoramus, a hypocrite, or all three. It was called the Trump Report. Unlike Donovan’s first site there was no questionnaire and no effort to make anyone feel better or help solve their life crises. This site was a report card about the president’s statements researched initially by volunteers from Donovan’s Myrtle Avenue neighborhood in the back room of the bar where Donovan worked, soon renamed the Donovan Bar and Grill. It might as well have been called the eighth circle of hell because Donovan was determined to test out whether or not here, on this earth, and not after death—in Dante’s Inferno—the new president was a fraud.
The Trump Report was not an original idea, but was an expansion of a series of newspaper articles that compared the verity of the promises and statements of the president. Those articles not only educated him about the president but inspired him in how he would retaliate not only on his own behalf but for anyone who had lost their name, dreams, and livelihood.
Within one month of putting it online, the site had millions of visitors, both at home and abroad, and within a few months the Donovan Bar itself became famous for tourists, as well as opponents of the president.
Its notoriety had consequences. In April, a few months after the inauguration, a group of the president’s supporters came to the Bar and the first of several conflicts between the two sides ensued and escalated into riots. The last riot not only destroyed the Bar but set it on fire. A tall wooden fence was placed around it and it was guarded by the National Guard. The owner was not intimidated, but promised it would arise again.
The unintentional hero of this short-lived movement? Donovan Trump, a man who had lived in complete anonymity a year and a half ago working as a happy bartender making a few extra dollars from his website Trumpers, a man who knew and cared little about the election or the candidate, a fellow politically asleep, the precise type of man the president had hoped to awaken with his message. But the candidate’s words were far less a wake-up call than his actions. When actions would have counted most, his advisors brought out an army of attorneys and crippled the life of a little man for the sake of the name Trump.
Even the lesson of the riots did not impress Trump’s advisors. Surreptitiously, the government hacked into Donovan’s new website and caused it to malfunction so that no one could get past the first page. But their actions were now too late. Nothing disappears from the Internet. No one could argue with the contents of the Trump Report, since every statement was carefully documented and every report was not only on the Internet but was published in hard copy by a European printer, entitled, “The Files of the Trump Report.”
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