‘He understood it was a spectacle’: Before Trump faced a judge, there was the corruption trial of Buddy Cianci - The Boston Globe (2024)

There was the red-headed Hummel, ABC6 microphone in hand, to Cianci’s right, and attorney Richard M. Egbert to the mayor’s left. In the middle was Cianci in a dark suit, wearing a salt-and-pepper hairpiece designed to emphasize his age and earn sympathy from the jury. His tie had butterflies printed on it.

When Hummel asked Cianci, 60, if he was nervous, the mayor pointed at his tie and quipped, “I’ve got butterflies.”

The corruption trial that ultimately forced Cianci from City Hall and landed him in federal prison has been top of my mind this week as the national media has flocked to New York to cover the hush money trial of former president Donald Trump, who also happens to be the presumptive Republican nominee for president this year. In many ways, Rhode Islanders experienced our own kind of Trump effect before the rest of the nation because we had Cianci, a populist cult-of-personality leader who was obsessed with being adored and thrived on controversy.

So I asked some of the journalists who were around for Cianci’s trial what it was like to cover that spectacle, which drew national media attention — including live broadcasts from radio personality Don Imus — and forever altered the local media landscape.

One big difference between Trump and Cianci: While reporters have noted that Trump came across as “bored and angry” after long days in the courtroom during jury selection, Cianci loved every second of the limelight.

“He was on federal trial for his freedom, and I think he just thought he could spin this and that he couldn’t make matters any worse and maybe could actually make it better,” recalled Sean Daly, a retired TV reporter who covered the trial for WPRI-TV.

Channel 12 launched a special newscast during the trial, and hired Daly specifically to cover it. He spent very little time in the courtroom because another legendary reporter, Jack White, was assigned to cover the “nuts and bolts” for the station.

Daly’s specialty was live television, which often meant taking information from a producer stationed in an overflow room in the courthouse and trying to turn it into digestible material for the broadcast audience. Like Trump’s today, Cianci’s trial was not televised.

“They gave us so much time,” Daly recalled. “If they paid by the word, I’d be a millionaire.”

Mike Stanton, another journalistic icon who covered the trial for The Providence Journal and also wrote, “The Prince of Providence: The Rise and Fall of Buddy Cianci, America’s Most Notorious Mayor,” said Cianci lived for the attention.

Stanton recalls Cianci autographing spectator badges outside the courtroom and waving at tourists, even on days when prosecutors landed stinging punches.

“He understood it was a spectacle,” Stanton said.

Indeed, Cianci’s trial was big business for Rhode Island media, and helped raise the profile of just about everyone covering it.

One of those beneficiaries was John DePetro, who along with former attorney general Arlene Violet covered Cianci’s trial for WHJJ radio in Providence. DePetro would go live from a Winnebago parked outside the courthouse every day from 10 a.m. until 2 p.m., and then find his way into the courtroom after his show was over.

DePetro, whose tongue has caused a fair share of controversy over the years, said he used an array of well-placed sources and his biting sense of humor to keep the audience’s interest during the trial. He dubbed the trial “thugs in cheap rugs,” and landed several appearances on Imus’ show to offer analysis in the form of standup comedy.

Cianci’s legal team was so annoyed by DePetro that they tried to place him on the witness list for the trial so that he couldn’t enter the courtroom, but he was eventually given the OK to cover it by Judge Ernest C. Torres.

“This would be if Ted Kennedy had gone on trial in Massachusetts,” DePetro said. “We haven’t seen a trial like that since.”

For obvious reasons, Trump’s trial has a much wider audience, and could have far broader consequences. Critics of Trump think a conviction would fully derail his chances of returning to White House, while supporters think a not guilty verdict would give him the momentum he needs to unseat President Biden in November (it’s worth noting that Trump is still facing three unrelated criminal cases).

One big question that is still looming for Trump: Is he willing to testify at the trial?

Most experts don’t think he will take the witness stand, the same decision Cianci’s defense team made. DePetro is among the journalists who think Cianci might have been acquitted if he testified.

He’s got a point. Cianci had been in public life for nearly 30 years by the time he went on trial, which gave him decades of experience winning over voters with a quick one-liner or a charming connection. Stanton maintains that Cianci thought he’d be found not guilty because of all time he spent at Little League games and wedding parties over the years.

Trump comes across as more polarizing than Cianci, but decades of experience with New York City’s tabloids and a decade-long stretch on TV hosting “The Apprentice” made him comfortable dealing with the media during his first run for president.

But DePetro pointed out that Cianci had one quality that Trump doesn’t.

“He was more loved than Trump ever was,” DePetro said.

One thing all of the reporters who covered the Cianci trial agree on: They’ll never forget the experience, and they expect everyone covering the Trump trial to feel the same.

In Daly’s case, he has digitized almost all of the footage from his coverage of the trial (and plenty of other packages from his storied career.)

“I’ve got all the receipts,” he joked.

Dan McGowan can be reached at dan.mcgowan@globe.com. Follow him @danmcgowan.