The Shore: Beauty and the Boardwalk
“I was flattered that [McGreevey] liked my hotels and my mind, and I was intrigued that he was interested in recruiting me,” Bashaw says. “I wasn’t a Democrat. I hadn’t given any money to his political campaign.” There was just one important question he needed to ask the governor first: Does it matter that I’m gay?
If you visit Atlantic City, it doesn’t take long to realize that an energetic gay man with good taste and new ideas — not to mention a lot of money to throw around — is exactly what the town needs.
But Bashaw, who had no experience in government, was hardly the obvious choice to run CRDA. He replaced longtime executive director James Kennedy, who was forced out of the job by the McGreevey administration because he was too closely allied with Republican State Senator William Gormley. Gormley and other close observers say Kennedy was quite skilled with numbers, and during his tenure many significant infrastructure projects were completed. But even they would have to acknowledge that the town was not exactly stylish. Perhaps that’s what prompted Bashaw to tell the Atlantic City Press upon his arrival, “I’m motivated by making places nice and pretty. It psyches me up.”
The place he chose to concentrate on making nicer and prettier first was Atlantic City’s famous Boardwalk, the once-grand walkway that was now home to t-shirt shops, palm readers, and the butt-ends of casino buildings. Mark Sandson, who’s been a lawyer in town for 25 years and represents the Casino Association, accompanied Bashaw as he made the rounds to meet casino executives in 2004, presenting himself and his ideas about turning Atlantic City into a destination with more than slot machines. “I saw the eyeballs roll,” Sandson remembers. “They were skeptical. A lot of people in the gaming industry didn’t believe in Atlantic City.” But as time went by, and Bashaw continued talking with what Sandson says is “messianic zeal,” the casino folks were won over.
Bashaw was just getting some traction in the job when in August 2004 he got a phone call from McGreevey, a call that would make his question about being gay so ironic that all Bashaw can do is shake his head when he recounts the story.
The governor told him that he’d been having an extramarital affair with a man he’d appointed to a state job, and the man was now threatening a sexual harassment lawsuit. Bashaw and McGreevey had become friendly colleagues, but the news still came as a total surprise. “When I met him, my gay-dar didn’t go off,” Bashaw maintains. “Not one bit.”
In retrospect, Bashaw believes it was because he was a public and successful gay man that McGreevey called him for help as he was preparing to resign. Bashaw went to visit the governor in Princeton for a few days and, he says, “witnessed some of the most moving stuff I’ve ever experienced. … This is someone’s life. And they’ve just told you they’re gay. And cried.