Two months into his ill-begotten presidency, when Donald Trump flew into a temper tantrum over Attorney General Jeff Sessions’ insistence on recusing himself from overseeing the Russia investigation, he famously bawled, “Where’s my Roy Cohn?” Cohn, in case you haven’t seen the documentary that took its title from the president’s outburst, was the red-baiting witch-hunter from the 1950s who became New York City’s top mob lawyer and, fittingly enough, young Donald’s fixer, mentor, and role model. Cohn had all the charm and scruples of a...
- 10/9/2019
- by Bob Moser
- Rollingstone.com
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