American History Hit - Staten Island v. New York City | Revisionist History

Episode Date: July 10, 2026

On the 250th anniversary of the United States, Revisionist History, bestselling author Malcolm Gladwell’s podcast about things overlooked and misunderstood, investigates the story of what was, at the time, the biggest secession movement in the U.S. since the Civil War. The Staten Island Problem reconstructs the battle for New York City amidst the turbulent early 1990s — the rise of Rudy Giuliani, the peak of the homicide rate, the Wu-Tang Clan, young Donald Trump, and the first Black mayor of New York — all through the prism of the city’s Forgotten Borough. Staten Island’s secession movement is an early example of the politics of resentment that dominates America today and asks: what do you do when a democracy looks like it’s falling apart? Here’s episode 1. David Dinkins, the first Black mayor of New York City, faces off with the borough president of Staten Island, and tries to hold his city together. Find more episodes of Revisionist History: The Staten Island Problem wherever you get podcasts. Hosted on Acast. See acast.com/privacy for more information.

Want to explore even more history? Sign up to History Hit, where you will discover history from around the world. From the American Revolution to prehistoric Scotland, there is plenty to discover. With your subscription, you'll unlock hundreds of hours of exclusive documentaries, with a brand new release every week, exploring everything from the ancient world to World War II. Just visit historyhit.com slash subscribe to bring the past alive. it's Don here. I've got a podcast I'm very excited about sharing with you. With America reaching her 250th anniversary of independence this year, revisionist history bestselling author Malcolm Gladwell's

podcast about things overlooked and misunderstood explores the story of what was once the biggest secession movement in the U.S. since the Civil War. This secession movement happened on a large island in New York City Harbor and set in motion a chain of events that led to so much of the politics of resentment so prevalent in America today. The island I speak of is Staten Island. All New Yorkers and many Americans know it's there, but so few understand what goes on there, other than a free ferry ride past the Statue of Liberty. But this series, aptly named the Staten Island Problem, takes us further inside that world. It's hosted by Revisionist History's senior producer Ben Nott of Haferi. Over the course of five episodes, he reconstructs the

battle for New York City amidst the turbulent early 1990s, looking into the rise of Rudy Giuliani, the peak of the homicide rate, the Wu-Tang Clan, and a young Donald Trump. The Staten Island Problem asks, what do you do when a democracy looks like it's falling apart? And what happens when an unhappy minority manages to take over? Here's episode one of the Staten Island problem. David Dinkins, the black mayor of New York City, faces off with the borough president of Staten Island and tries to hold his city together. A while back, my colleague Benadav Haferry came to me with a story about a strange little

island that no outsider ever visits, forgotten, overlooked, reached by boat across an expanse of turbulent water, where the locals practice their own unique customs engage in their own strange variety of politics, and where, incredibly, everything that is happening currently in America already happened long ago. Staten Island. And so today we bring you a new series, the Staten Island problem. In it, Ben is going to take us back in time to the 1990s when a young real estate sion named Donald Trump was chasing models in downtown nightclubs, when the subways

were covered in graffiti, and when the homicide epidemic was at its peak. And Staten Island decided, enough already. Ben will share what he's. discovered deep in the distant corners of New York's archives and tell the story of a civil war within the five boroughs. A secessionist movement, the rise of Rudy Giuliani, the Wu-Tang Clan, and ultimately a parable for what we're all living through right now.

How a country that thought it was united comes apart. What was it, Ernest Hemingway once said of bankruptcy? It happens two ways, gradually, and then suddenly. I promise you that at every turn in this bizarre story, you will say to yourself, I didn't know that. And then, oh, that's how we got to where we are today. This is the first of what will be five episodes. You can expect new ones in your feed every week, or you can subscribe to Pushkin Plus and binge the whole series right now. Over to Ben.

Let me say up top that I am not from Staten Island, though many people I spoke to for this series seem to think I am. I'm from Boston, but when I was a kid, I used to dream about moving to New York. I used to watch Fantasia 2000 all the time. Well, actually, just this one sequence about New York City set to George Gershwin's Rhapsody in Blue. It opens as the clarinet plays that iconic do-l-l-l-l-l-hue, and a pencil draws in the skyline of New York City. And the whole thing is just romantic and idealized and hyper-kinetic. I fell in love with the idea of this place. I used to draw that skyline.

I used to ride my bike around with a tape player bungee to the rack, listening to Gershwin, thinking about my first apartment, where I'd live, what I'd do. Who cares that the cartoon was set in the Great Depression? I was a total dupus. But in all my reveries, I never thought about the most remote part of New York City. Staten Island. New York is made up of five boroughs, each of which is like its own little city. Queens, the Bronx, Manhattan, Brooklyn, where I live now.

And then the farthest away and smallest, at least by population, Staten Island. And as I've come to learn, Staten Island is a kind of uncomfortable fact of New York City. It's the butt of the joke, always. I mean, listen to this recent mayoral debate. I'll start with you, Ms. Adams. Which borough have you spent the least amount of time in? Staten Island. Mr. Colmo.

I would say Staten Island. Mr. Lander? Staten Island. Mr. Mombani, uh-oh. The beacon of free transit, Staten Island. Mr. Mirey? I'd say Stringer. I've been doing this.

I've been everywhere. Mr. Telson? It was almost a sweet. I learned about Staten Island after I first moved to New York City. That summer, some friends invited me to a Staten Island Yankees game, their old minor league baseball team. When I looked up how to get there, I learned that I would have to take a subway to a subway to a

a ferry, a literal ship. I got on board. There was a bar, huge windows, a 25, 30-minute ride where you see the Statue of Liberty out the right side, and then you just keep going. The New York City skyline

recedes into the distance, and then you land in a place that just is not New York City. New York City is all shoebox apartments. Staten Island is single-family homes. New York City is liberal. Staten Island is conservative. New York City at large is mostly people of color. Staten Island is mostly white.

New York City is defined by its subway. Staten Island has a single dinky railway, and everyone drives a car anyways. New York are words that convey prestige and power the world over. The center of finance, the center of media, the largest city in the country, the kind of place George Gershwin rhapsodizes. Meanwhile, a member of the College of Staten Island board of trustees told me he once suggested they drop Staten Island from the name of the college because it made people take it less seriously.

Once Staten Island was supposed to get the world's largest ferris wheel, it did not. It was supposed to get connected to New York subway once. They broke ground on a tunnel, and that was the end of it. For all these reasons and more, Staten Island calls itself the forgotten borough, the least beloved, the most ignored. It was once the place where New York City put most of its trash, literally the largest landfill on the planet. But starting in the late 1980s,

Staten Island had decided it didn't want to be dumped on anymore. It didn't want to be forgotten anymore. So it began a movement to secede from New York City, leave, do its own thing, become an entirely different place, something that, if it has, happened, threatened to destroy New York. So why am I telling you this? Because it all seems so familiar to me. Every political arrangement includes some disgruntled minority, someone or some place that feels left out, forgotten, like they don't matter. I think that problem is at the very

heart of what's going on in our country today. So I began to investigate the Staten Island problem. You're listening to Revisionist History. I'm Ben Natt of Hafri, and this is our series about an overlooked and misunderstood movement in the 1990s to break up the largest and greatest city in the country. This summer, the United States is celebrating the anniversary of its founding by an act of secession, a quibble over taxes and representation that defied an empire

and created a country which has altered the course of human history. All of which is to say, I think it's the right time to ask, what do you do when that democracy looks like it's about to fall apart? This is the Staten Island problem. Episode 1, the mayor versus the borough president. To start, I've got to take you back in time

to the New York City of long ago. When I moved here for the Washington Post, I got, I got hardship pay. Really? Yeah. Like it was... Compared to Washington, D.C.? Yes.

I got a... Special cost of living allowance, which was essentially like... Take a cab. Compensation for the fact I was going to a hellhole. Local reporter Malcolm Gladwell was on the scene in that era. I was at the Washington Post, and I had been there since 86, 37. And the New York Bureau had an opening. The bureau chief was leaving.

And I applied. As it turns out, I was the only person who applied. How many people worked at the Washington Post? Like probably a thousand reporters. Nobody wanted the job. The only person who wanted to be the Bureau Chief of New York City? Nobody but me wanted the job. It was the sweetest set up in the world.

You had like, you know, a credit card. You could put anything you wanted on it. You had like an assistant. You had a lovely office in the Newsweek building. I don't know why, but I was like... I want that job. It was such a good job. It was so much fun.

But no, the perception was why would anyone want to go to New York? New York was a place that you left. You didn't voluntarily go there. This was the version of New York that a man named David Dinkins was going to run as mayor. He was by temperament, a conciliator, a pleaser,

a guy who wanted to make peace among different constituencies and kind of represented in his body and his posture and his affect, a kind of, he really did appeal to people's better angels. He really was that. Marcia Smith was a high-ranking official

in the Dinkins administration. She'd first started working with him back when he was campaigning for Manhattan Borough President. The Borough President is like the mayor of each borough. As it happened, the whole policy unit in the Borough President's office was all women. He used to call us cupcakes. She'd watched his rise to become the first black mayor of the city in 1989.

The election of David Dinkins, remember this was on the heels of black mayors being elected in other major cities. But this was like, New York was like last. But it was a very optimistic moment. This was a big moment. I felt it was very hopeful. I could also feel, of course, the skepticism that felt like there was a lot at stake. A lot of eyes on you guys. A lot of eyes.

But contrary to most people who become mayor, Dinkins hadn't really wanted the job. And he shied away from the idea of running for mayor. And he was convinced to run for mayor. Ruth Messenger became Manhattan Borough president after Dinkins. Around the same time, the city became majority minority, more people of color than white people. Those demographics were why people thought Dinkins should run.

But here's a black borough president with some knowledge of state government and city government for sure, perfect candidate for mayor. And I promise you that he was pushed to make that decision. Dinkins was a lifelong New Yorker. He grew up shuttling between his mom's place in the city and his dad's in New Jersey. His parents had split when he was young. His father was a barber. His mom was a maid. When he grew up, he went to college at Howard University and met his wife.

Her father was Harlem Political Royalty. And that set the course of Dinkins's life. Dinkins died in 2020, so I spent a lot of time talking to people about him. And everybody had a Dinkin's story. Most of them about how fastidious he was. He would shower multiple times a day. He was often in tennis whites. A lawyer named Richard Emery remembered going to his office to ask him questions for an affidavit

in a case once. They were in the bowels of the municipal building. And all of a sudden, David Dinkins gets up from behind the desk, and he takes his pants off. I think his jacket was still on. And he had garters and boxer trousers. And I wanted to ask, what are you doing? And he puts him up like this,

holds him with one hand, and takes a steamer and starts to steam the pants so that the creases are. really nice. And he stands there and he's answering my question and said he's steaming his pants. Dinkins didn't like a crease out of order. I have to imagine that's part of why being the mayor of Chaos City was not necessarily his dream job. When Dinkins was elected, his dad told the press, I wouldn't want the job for a billion dollars. But Dinkins knew this was his chance to make history. And he did.

I stand here before you today as the elected leader of the greatest city of a great nation, to which my ancestors were brought, chained and whipped in the whole of a slave ship. In January of 1990, David Dinkins took the oath of office on the steps of City Hall. And this year, this city has given powerful proof of the proposition that all of us are created equal. Dinkins had a vision of what the city could be. I see New York. as a gorgeous mosaic of race and religious faith,

of national origin and sexual orientation, of individuals whose families arrived yesterday and generations ago coming through Ellis Island or Kennedy Airport or on buses bound for the Port Authority. In that spirit, I offer this fundamental pledge. I intend to be the mayor of all the people of New York. From City Island to Staten Island. New York City has always been deeply segregated into ethnic enclaves.

The Dominicans of Washington Heights, black people in Central Harlem, Italians and Jews in Canarsie. The Mosaic was Dinkins' way of reconciling those facts. It was his way of saying that diversity is not a problem. It's an asset. But if you cleared away the buildings he faced as he spoke, he would have been looking straight at the piece of the mosaic that had recently decided it no longer fit. Staten Island. After Dinkins was elected, Staten Island had pushed forward its bill to secede from New York City.

It had been in the works for years at that point, but it's hard to imagine Dinkins didn't take it personally. His colleague, Marsha Smith, thought that for Staten Island, this was all about Dinkins. Oh my God, what are they thinking? And, well, of course they're thinking that because they don't want to be governed by a black mayor. So it immediately seemed racially tinged you. Absolutely. Dinkin's knew Staten Island was threatening to secede, but he didn't know how seriously to take it. Then one day, his finance commissioner began looking into the matter

and determined this was a bigger deal than anyone realized. The administration looked into it. If Staten Island seceded, New York could be in a financial crisis. The city would lose almost 20% of its land, including, crucially, its last operational dump. With a smaller population, it would get way less than federal and state aid. It would lose possibly the thousands of government workers who lived on Staten Island, including thousands of police officers in the middle of a crime wave.

And it could leave the first black mayor with the legacy of presiding over the city's destruction. Could Dinkins keep the biggest, most fractious city in the country from breaking apart? He had to scare Staten Island out of doing it. So the city launched a task force, and Dinkins decided that he personally would set sail for the island. To argue the case himself. We'll be right back. One night, a few weeks before David Dinkins went to Staten Island, a police officer named Michael O'Keefe was patrolling the Manhattan neighborhood of Washington Heights in an unmarked car. He saw a young man tugging a jacket around his waist.

It was July, not jacket weather. He thought he was probably hiding a weapon. O'Keefe pulled over. The kid was a suspected drug dealer named Kiko Garcia. O'Keefe got out and tried to arrest him. Garcia resisted. What happened next was fast and unclear, but it was a warm evening and there were witnesses on the street.

They said they saw the cop, beat Garcia with a walkie-talkie, take out his knees, and shove him into the lobby of an apartment building. They said they heard him screaming, Mama, Mama, they are killing me in Spanish. Then, two shots. When more police arrived, they found O'Keefe's standing over Garcia dead. A bullet in the stomach, one in the back. That night, the riots began. M80s, bottles and bricks are being thrown.

Several cars have been set on fire. Your occupants have been thrown from the cars. The building across from the shooting burned. There was fire everywhere. A police helicopter hovered overhead. Someone shot at it. In the lobby of the apartment building where Garcia was killed, someone used his blood to write,

Kiko, we love you, on the wall. One man threw a bottle at some cops, then ran away across the rooftops. When they chased him, he fell five stories to his death. Protesters burned pictures of the police. Police officers watching their image burn didn't want to talk on camera, but told me later they thought it was disgusting and were frustrated by orders not to interfere with the demonstration.

People listening in on police radio said they heard cops joking that if they saw Al Sharpton protesting, they should shoot him. Phil Caruso, head of the police union, took to the news. Of course, we don't approve of it. We don't condone it. but it's something that is sort of a reaction on the part of police office is under a lot of stress. I think what we should do is start focusing on the so-called victim in this case. It was a known drug dealer who was wanted under a warrant because he violated his parole. So yes, the cops were annoyed with the protesters,

but they seemed even more annoyed with the mayor. I came to pay my respects and offer my condolences to the family and to assure them that everything that can be done will be done thoroughly investigate the circumstances of this death. From the start, Dinkins seemed suspicious about what had happened. He met with Garcia's family and consoled them. He invited them to Gracie Mansion. He paid for Garcia's body to be shipped back to the Dominican Republic for a funeral.

He walked the streets of Washington Heights and met with people. He told them, I promise you justice, I beg you for peace. I used to live up here. I loved to come to this neighbor. The cops felt Dinkins had sold them out, that he'd sided with the family of a drug dealer. And someone important agreed.

And my God, if you're going to pay for that funeral, there's a place thousands and thousands of funnels not pay for in our city today. That would be more justification for them. than that one. Earl President of Staten Island, Guy Mollinari. The mayor has not vested with the responsibility of giving religious comfort to the family of somebody killed who's a drug dealer.

I think, I think that was very badly played, and I think... Mollinari had got his start as a real estate lawyer on Staten Island. Then he got into politics and realized he was really good at it. He used to just open up the phone book and call random people on Staten Island to talk. He was beloved, polarizing, an extremely old school. This is him talking to a WNYC reporter,

defending himself the time he said a lesbian shouldn't be Attorney General of New York. Not one editorial ever took her to task for her going out and asking for votes because she was a lesbian, not a single one. Do you think there's a difference between that and say you are having a fundraiser with the Italian Americans? Sure. People feeling ethnic. Sure.

What's the Italian-American agenda? She had a gay and lesbian agenda. Mullenary's philosophy was that the only rules in politics are what the voters think. And his borough was full of people who did not think much of New York City. Staten Island was essentially the last outpost for people who would like to leave the city, but couldn't because they worked for the city and therefore had to live within its boundaries. There were a lot of police officers on the island. To the point where, when I bought a used copy of Molinari's memoir on eBay,

it showed up with the inscription, Blue Lives Always Matter. To put it mildly, this was not Mayor Dinkins' crowd. In the weeks after Garcia was killed, it was Mollinari who took a stand against Dinkins and how he handled everything. He wrote the police precinct in Washington Heights that, quote, I know that your morale has taken quite a beating in recent weeks, and the actions of Mayor Dinkins have undoubtedly contributed to your present feelings.

However, I did want you to know that there are some of us in government who hold you in the highest esteem. Dinkins learned about the letter just before his trip to Staten Island. He was furious. Molinari said that Dinkins leaked it to the press. And my letter never would have been made public,

except that he chose to make it public. So if you made it public, then how can you make the accusation that I'm trying to stir things up and make it to listen? in our city or not. I didn't want to be standing before all of you talking about this issue. It was just a private letter I sent to the men and women of the precinct who needed a look

from somebody in government. Nobody else was doing it. But at that point, Dinkins couldn't call the trip off. So one hot summer morning, David Dinkins finally got on a ship and set sail for Staten Island. We'll be right back.

The mayor boarded a ferry in lower Manhattan and charted a course a half-hour out to sea, until it reached Staten Island. Dinkins got off the boat and made his way to Burrow Hall. A small crowd awaited him. And I would like to greet you all this morning to mark Mayor Jenkins' week-long visit here on Staten Island. A camera crew followed Dinkins on his week out on the island. The tapes are in the city archive, and they are kind of amazing.

You see Dinkins in a baby blue suit on the steps of Staten Island Borough Hall. Then, a short man with big glasses and white hair steps in front of him. Staten Island's borough president, Guy Molineerie. Mayor Dinkins' distinguished guests and fellow Staten Islanders, good morning. Today I'd like to speak to you all about the borough I have represented in elective office for 17 years. Whatever the problems have been, the last few days, I'm going to forget them and hope they didn't exist. And I think the mayor and I, whatever our differences are, we've differed before. just as I have with the mayor before him and the mayor before him.

But, yeah. Well, when you represent Staten Island, it goes with the terrified thing to a certain extent. But we'll try to put those differences aside. At least I will. And I'll speak only for myself. It was a hot day. The mayor stood in full sun behind the pro president, looking deeply displeased as he wiped sweat from his brow.

Then Mollinari's daughter, Susan, congresswoman for Staten Island, took the mic. While I know it, excuse me, it's customary during most trips when you have special guests coming to either the city or the island, I'm sure you've done it. You give them a special key to the city. Well, today it's my great pleasure in Staten Island's own way to present you with an unofficial lock to the garbage dump. She and her dad held up a gigantic sign that said Molinary landfill lock. Dickens did not look happy. Minutes in, it was clear that this would be a very trying week for David Dinkins.

He took the lectern. Let me just say a word about Guy Mollinari. He knew I was going to be here today, just like I knew that he would be here today, just like I knew that he would be here to greet me. about, there was no doubt about that. Both Dinkins and Mollinari were ex-Marines, but only Mollinary had seen combat. What Dinkins got from the Marines was a love of rules and decorum.

He was proper and patrician. What Mollinari got from the Marines was a killer instinct. He was a street fighter. The very public feud between the two of them was making it hard for Dinkins to focus on the task at hand. The letter kept coming up. I hope that that's the last time I will have done.

this subject for now, because what I want to do is get about the business of government here on Staten Island. Dinkins tries to reset to his real purpose, stop secession. I was asked, well, what do you hope to accomplish here on Staten Island? I said, if nothing else, if nothing else, I hope that I can convey to the people of Staten Island that I deeply care about them and about all of them. If this were a political visit, why in blazes would I come? I mean, I know the number of votes that were cast for me in 1989.

So I'm not here for political reason. If I were to come for political reason, might I not then reason? I'll come to Staten Island for two days because you have less than 500,000 people and they got two and a half million people in Brooklyn. Why not go to Brooklyn for eight and nine days and come here for two days? But I'm here for seven days.

At this, one imagines his knees buckle. Seven days. Not just Monday to Friday. Not simply Monday to Friday, Monday through Sunday. So I don't care whether you agree with me on all issues or not. If you are reasonable people, you have to say to yourselves, well, by God, he does care. Seeming more than a little pissed off, he began his pitch for the city of the Mosaic. But, you know, the glory of Staten Island does not in any way confine itself to the past.

In fact, the island of the Seven Hills may well have been the first part of New York that European explorer cited. Dinkins has clearly had his speechwriters dig deep for some nice things to say about Staten Island. The Staten Island ferry. The oldest surviving free black settlement in the United States. The only zoo in America, incidentally, to exhibit all 32 species of rattlesnakes. Pouring sweat from his brow, David Dinkins limped to his finish. A line about how Staten Island maybe was the first place his favorite sport, tennis, was played in America. So thank you, Staten Island. You have given me that.

Finally, he addresses the elephant in the room. And I hope that I will be able to persuade the people of Staten Island that this government, and I am the representative of this government, that this government does care about Staten Island. I'll be speaking to this question of secession. But just to give you some advance notice, you all ain't going nowhere. He was right and he was wrong, all at the same time.

God bless you. Keep the faith. And with that, the mayor's seven-day visit to the forgotten borough began. Borough President Guy Mullenary had Mayor Dinkins trapped on Staten Island, for an entire week. He could control the narrative about many things in that time. The dump with that lock gambit, but even more urgently,

the increasingly tense relationship between Dinkins and the cops after Washington Heights. Here's a reporter asking Mullenary about all that. You think he shouldn't have paid for the funeral? No, absolutely not. Absolutely not.

I mean, that I think is totally disagree with that. And I think as the weeks go by and the days go by, and you'll see the reaction to the police community. And I think they'll find out that I was right. In case you're wondering why the borough president of Staten Island was even talking about Washington Heights, according to Molinari.

A lot of the drugs that are sold in Washington Heights wind up in this borough. Dinkins toured the island all week. He kept trying to reach higher only to be dragged down by reality. He gave speeches invoking the Civil War. He quoted Lincoln, comparing Staten Island to the south seceding. He made his pitch. Secession undermined the very principle of democracy. We're supposed to be able to argue about things and come to a compromise.

You can't just leave when you don't like something. But Staten Islanders, we're having none of it. My question is why you allow one deputy mayor to direct you down a path of destruction. Who is that deputy mayor? Here he is at the local newspaper's editorial luncheon, staring down at his plate, trying to eat. I have to say he looks totally miserable. The path of destruction this woman's asking him about is a reference to the dump, and how his administration had no real plans to close it.

Let me interrupt you a second. You can continue in a minute, but just interrupt the flow. Just to sit here and listen to you give some conclusions that are really not accurate, and it's a little painful. I'm here because I care and I represent all of the people. We have a very difficult and naughty problem with respect to the disposal of solid waste, and experts do not all agree about him. Dinkins was in an unwinnable situation,

being accosted while he ate his lunch, standing in the sun all around the island being blasted with unpleasant questions as he sweat like crazy. The main thing is getting out of the sun, boy. I cannot understand. You know there's space inside? They're just going to be right in the corridor.

His week there was building to a climax, when Dinkins would finally visit the infamous dump, Fresh Kills, the largest landfill in the world, which, yes, smelled terrible, but also seemed possibly to be highly toxic. This was the kind of place the fastidious David Dinkins really did not want to be. So when he took his tour by car and then gave a press conference, it did not go over well. You looked like you were going to get out and take a walk around some of the landfill area before. I looked like it. What was that, body language?

How did you? How did you? Was it? How did you determine it? It was our understanding when the motorcade stopped. That's a different statement. It was going to get out and take a walking floor. Molinari roasted Dinkins about it all in the press. Quote, after 40 years of Staten Islanders living near an ever-increasingly large dump, David Dinkin spends 40 minutes reviewing his own data and declares it safe.

The message was clear. Too clean to walk around trash island, huh, Mr. Mayor? I was wondering what it was that it made you. What I'm doing is it's taken me to be briefed by commissioners Lloyd and Jorling, which we have been able to do. And throughout the ride, I was getting briefed as we were riding. The week soon ended and Dinkins went back to Manhattan, seeming to have made matters worse. And what would soon become clear is that Mollinary had much bigger plans. Not for Staten Island to leave the city.

But for Staten Island to take it over entirely. When I started reporting this series, a historian told me, America happens first in New York City. And now that I spent way too long learning about a borough that did its best to leave that city, I have to say, I agree. This is a story about what happens when neighbors feel like they have nothing in common anymore. When they had these irreconcilable differences and they just don't think they can be part of the same place anymore. Back in the 1990s, a chess game was being played for, yes, the fate of the largest city in America, but I think the stakes of it are much higher. Because the more I looked into the story of Staten Island secession and where that split came from,

the more I understood how we got to where we are today. Coming up on the Staten Island problem. Who will you trust your friends and neighbors and the people in Staten Island? or we entrust the people five miles overseas? There's a lot of Donald Trump and the guy Maloneyri style of politics. They're very dominating and they're intolerant

of people who disagree with them. Absolutely intolerant. For Rudy Giuliani to urge them on, as it were, demonstrates an irresponsibility on his behalf. Can't you just deal with the secession thing when you're at these debates? You've got to turn a wedding into a secession debate. Did you think of it when January 6th happened?

Absolutely. There was much chatter among the Dinkins alumni about the parallel. We've seen this before. The Staten Island Problem is written and reported by me, Ben Madafafri. It was produced by Lucy Sullivan with Nina Bird Lawrence. Our editor is Karen Chakurgy. Our executive producer is Jacob Smith. Fact-checking by Sam Russick, sound design and mastering by Jake Gorski.

Original music by Stellwagon Symphony, Luis Scara and Jake Gorski. Special thanks to Todd Reynolds for his track, The Solution from the album Outer Borough, and to the College of Staten Island and the New York City Municipal Archives for all of the amazing tape. And thanks, of course, to Malcolm Gladwell.

I'm Ben out of Faffrey. You can find the rest of Revisionist History, the Staten Island Problem, wherever you get your podcasts. And you can binge the whole series now by signing up for Pushkin Plus. Learn more on the Revisionist History Show page on Apple Podcasts or at pushkin.fm slash plus.

That was episode one of revisionist history, the Staten Island Problem. Find more episodes wherever you get your podcasts.