McDonald’s fall as rapid as his rise

Erin Neff

Saturday, Nov. 11, 2000 | 4:08 a.m.

Michael McDonald blew into city politics six years ago as a fresh-faced young cop earnestly trying to restore faith to a council seat whose previous occupant was plagued by ethical lapses.

To this day, one of his favorite photos depicts his sunburned friends beaming with pride in their Michael McDonald T-shirts after a stunning 1995 Election Day victory over council incumbent Frank Hawkins.

Four years later, McDonald's constituents adored how he wore out sneaker leather walking the ward, and then-Mayor Jan Laverty Jones rewarded him with the mantle of mayor pro tem.

Suddenly his political future was boundless. The best-known advisers lined up with praise and eyed him for county commission, governor and even congressman.

"He's a man that you meet, and you like him instinctively," Las Vegas power broker Sig Rogich said in a 1999 interview. "His future is limited only by his own commitment."

That was last year. Since then, McDonald's activities have added up to a collective disaster for his promising political career. It all came to a head last week.

On Tuesday opponents collected signatures to recall McDonald from office. On Wednesday, the city Ethics Review Board determined the councilman broke city law. On Thursday McDonald was asked to relinquish the position he cherishes -- the mayor pro tem title -- and its responsibility of filling in as mayor when the mayor is absent.

McDonald refused to give up the title, showing that while he quietly believes he is at "the bottom of hell" he's still got plenty of fight left.

"I'm not going anywhere," McDonald said Thursday.

History shows that voters do forgive politicians for ethical violations, and in fact do re-elect public officials, most recently Clark County Commissioner Yvonne Atkinson Gates, despite past ethical discretions.

But the recent ethics charges, coupled with a police investigation, have significantly hampered the 35-year-old councilman's popularity and crippled his once-unflappable majority on the board.

Rating falls

A Harrah's poll leading up to the Nov. 7 election found McDonald's favorable rating at 14.25 percent -- the lowest rating out of 11 politicians named. His unfavorable rating was the highest on the list at 53 percent.

"He's done," said one local politician, who asked to remain anonymous. "We've begun seeing it all unwind."

When McDonald was named mayor pro tem, he quickly began building a sturdy coalition on the council. With Jones often ducking out of council meetings for other business, McDonald quickly gained the spotlight chairing sessions in her absence.

By the time Oscar Goodman became mayor in 1999, many believed McDonald's voting bloc was secure enough to make him something of a "shadow mayor." Whoever controlled three votes on a five-person board could push through his own agenda.

Redistricting and the addition of two new council seats helped erode McDonald's support. And an ethics complaint stemming from a 1999 vote dragged through the system until its eventual dismissal this July, all the while raising doubt and winnowing away his control.

Many believed McDonald's personality made him susceptible to problems.

McDonald is a fun-loving prankster who can impersonate "South Park" cartoon characters as easily as he can speak on the stump for neighborhood issues.

He's known as a sharp dresser who loves night life, the limelight and Notre Dame football. He cruises the city in a red Corvette, wears flashy jewelry, carouses with a pack of good-time buddies and dines at the finest restaurants.

McDonald is known for his fierce loyalty to his friends. And his devotion to his elderly parents won him favor with the numerous senior citizens in his Las Vegas ward.

Even his detractors are quick to acknowledge McDonald's street-level political skills. He knows how to work a crowd, press the flesh and when to dispense favors.

But some mistake his smiles for smirks and his barbs as political weapons.

So it didn't help matters in 1999 when he voted to grant Republic Silver State Disposal a lengthy $1.5 billion trash-hauling contract extension. His vote raised questions about McDonald's relationships.

Many questioned why McDonald didn't abstain from the vote given his friendships with the company's president and the company's attorney and his dating relationship with one of Silver State's female employees.

And with those questions came greater scrutiny of other relationships McDonald maintained, including a longtime friendship with Crazy Horse Too strip club owner Rick Rizzolo.

McDonald lives in a Canyon Gate Country Club home purchased new in 1995 for $282,000 by Bobett Lee-Taylor. Lee-Taylor is married to local businessman Tony Tegano, whose daughter from a previous marriage is married to Chicago mob associate Joseph Cusumano.

When McDonald, Rizzolo and Rizzolo's attorney Dean Patti toured the Las Vegas Sportspark this past May, a Sportspark employee asked "Who are those Mafia-looking guys?"

Drawing conclusions

McDonald maintains people have simply drawn the wrong conclusions about him, and he lambastes what he considers unfair media coverage.

The behavior described by witnesses in Wednesday's ethics hearing so troubled Goodman that he said he could not in good faith allow McDonald to remain mayor pro tem.

"It's a cloud upon the city," Goodman said.

McDonald said his recent troubles are simply a matter of political revenge sought by police officials for his 1998 questioning of the Metro Police budget.

Ironically, it was his Metro badge and working relationship with Sheriff Jerry Keller that hoisted him into office.

McDonald said he first decided to run for office six years ago after numerous people he encountered through his police work encouraged him to get involved.

When he first took office, McDonald helped create the resident-friendly Neighborhood Services department and led efforts to clean up the Meadows Village area of his ward.

Leftover campaign money was donated to senior centers and youth sports groups, helping build a loyal constituency.

But after McDonald resigned from Metro in 1999 and then easily won re-election, he was suddenly less accessible.

Then he angered police officers and politicians all over the Las Vegas Valley when he led a botched attempt to split up Metro Police into two separate departments, one serving the city of Las Vegas and the other serving Clark County. That failure was widely seen as his first real attempt to wield his influence, and he lost considerable face in political circles. The move to break up Metro was seen as a flagrant and high-profile power grab that left him empty-handed.

Then when he started work at Las Vegas Color Graphics early this year and was facing the Silver State ethics hearing, his attendance at meetings began slipping.

He quickly alienated other council members, most notably Lynette Boggs McDonald, when he led the opposition to a proposed Costco superstore planned in her ward.

Suddenly Goodman was the emerging star who controlled the council.

When Metro Police were investigating allegations into the Sportspark case and the controversial tavern license matter, McDonald came to City Hall only when required for meetings.

One political adviser, speaking on the condition of anonymity, said McDonald's current troubles could be seen coming for months.

"He's just been running too fast and with the wrong crowd for long enough to crash into a wall," the adviser said.

McDonald, who will be replaced as mayor pro tem on Thursday, views Wednesday's ethics findings as the first blemish of his career.

"I'm a fighter," he said. "I'm not giving up anything."

But he might not have any choice in the matter.