Where was he going with this? I thought.
“As a result of the evidence that was seized on June 13, at the conclusion of Project Traveller, a number of electronic devices, computers, telephones, and hard drives were seized.…”
Hard drives? Seized? No. They couldn’t have …
“On October 29, on Tuesday of this week, we received information from our computer technology section that in the examination of a hard drive that had been seized on June 13, they were able to identify a number of files that had been deleted and that they were able to recover those files.…”
There were gasps in the newsroom. I covered my mouth. I think I grabbed some nearby person’s wrist, but I can’t quite remember.
“As a result, I have been advised [it was so like Blair to draw this out] that we are now in possession of a recovered digital video file—”
The newsroom exploded. People cheered and clapped and punched their arms in the air. It was hard to hear the rest of the chief’s speech.
“—relevant to the investigations that have been conducted. That file contains video images, which appear to be those images which were previously reported in the press.”
He couldn’t quite conceal a smirk as he delivered his last line to the room of stunned reporters: “I’ll be happy to take your questions now.”
My eyes welled with tears. Numerous others reacted the same way. It wasn’t about being vindicated. We’d always known we were reporting honestly. It was about the truth coming out to the public. It was about loving the job we do, and knowing how important it was. I felt proud to be working at the Star, to be working at a newspaper that had the guts to pursue this kind of story, for having the fortitude to stand by it, and to keep the pressure on despite intense criticism from both Fords. We’d all been in this together. We’d all been called liars. We’d all watched the erosion of trust in our profession, courtesy the Ford brothers’ attacks on the media. Every reporter, photographer, and editor had spent the last six months fielding the same questions from family, friends, and strangers: “So … is the video real?” The truth had come out. Toronto was going to get to see the video. I will never forget that moment as long as I live. A few minutes later, the Star’s publisher, John Cruickshank, called everyone to the centre of the newsroom.
“This was a victory for journalism,” he said.
For Rob Ford, it was the beginning of the worst week of his life.
ON THAT THURSDAY MORNING, Police Chief Bill Blair didn’t just confirm that the video was real, he also announced that investigators had charged Alexander “Sandro” Lisi with extortion over alleged attempts to retrieve the video after the Star’s and Gawker’s stories ran. Blair also revealed that police had recovered “several” video files from the hard drive, and that one other was “relevant” to the Project Brazen 2 investigation. And while Blair refused to discuss the specific contents of the footage—other than to say that it was likely filmed at Windsor Road, that it showed Mayor Ford, and that his actions were “consistent” with what had been reported in the media—the chief did offer some personal reaction when a reporter asked if the video had shocked him.
“I’m disappointed,” Blair said after a short pause. “I think, as a citizen of Toronto, I’m disappointed. I know this is a traumatic issue for the citizens of this city and for the reputation of this city, and that concerns me.”
At City Hall, it was pandemonium. Councillors began calling for the mayor’s resignation, but in what should have been a surprise to no one, Ford said he wasn’t going anywhere. In fact, he suggested that the chief was wrong. “I think everybody has seen the allegations against me today,” Ford said. “I wish I could come out and defend myself. Unfortunately, I can’t, ’cause it’s before the court, and that’s all I can say right now.”
But this time it wasn’t working. Across the spectrum, city councillors were severing ties with the Ford administration. The next day, the Toronto Star, the National Post, and the Toronto Sun published editorials calling for Ford to step down. Four days after that, The Globe and Mail followed suit.
Council doesn’t have impeachment procedures. Only the Ontario provincial government has the power to remove the mayor of Toronto, but that kind of intervention had never happened before. It seemed like a dangerous precedent to set. Mayor Ford may have become unfit for office because of his links to criminality, his drug issues, and his thuggish behaviour. But what if, in the future, city councillors who simply disagreed with a mayor decided to oust him or her? No one, from the governing Liberals to the opposition Conservatives to city councillors of every stripe, was eager to go down that road.
Councillors decided to go a different route. They began poring through the City of Toronto Act, trying to find ways to marginalize the disgraced mayor. Some of Ford’s power was protected by provincial law, such as his role as the city’s chief executive. That couldn’t be changed. But some of his authority was non-statutory—it had been delegated by council. And what council giveth, council could taketh away.
The most obvious target was the mayor’s ability to appoint committee chairs. Taking that away would essentially dismantle Ford’s caucus, freeing up right-wing councillors to oppose the mayor openly. Ford had only one vote on council. The power of the office lay in the influence the mayor had. Without control of committees, Ford would have no whip. Next, council looked at the mayor’s special authority during a crisis. The mayor’s ability to declare, and end, a state of emergency was guaranteed by provincial legislation, but what happened in between wasn’t covered. Council wanted to transfer that power to Deputy Mayor Norm Kelly.
The mayor switched to offence mode. The Fords’ long-time lawyer, Dennis Morris, got involved. Together, they publicly called on Chief Blair to release the footage. It was a curious strategy. Given what I’d seen six months earlier, I couldn’t imagine that the mayor actually wanted that made public. Perhaps they were gambling on the fact that Blair wouldn’t make the video public because it would taint Lisi’s extortion trial, and that Blair’s refusal would create enough doubt for Ford Nation to stick with the mayor. Maybe they figured that if Lisi pleaded guilty, the video would never get entered into evidence, and therefore never be released. Or perhaps they were trying to run out the clock, to make it to the October 2014 election before a trial date. On all fronts, it was a weak plan. My police sources were insisting that there was no way the footage would be buried.
By Friday afternoon, it looked as if Ford was coming to his senses. The entire family—Doug, Randy, Rob, Kathy, and Diane, as well as the mayor’s chief of staff, Earl Provost—had a long meeting at the Ford family home in Etobicoke. When Ford came outside, reporters were waiting on the cul-de-sac. By now, Detective Sergeant Gary Giroux had confirmed that police wanted to interview the mayor but that he wasn’t cooperating.
Saturday was quiet. There was rampant speculation that on the brothers’ Sunday radio show, Rob Ford would announce plans to take some time off and get medical treatment. I was skeptical. It would be entirely out of character.
He didn’t let me down.
Ford pulled up to Newstalk 1010’s studio blaring the Bee Gees’ “Stayin’ Alive” from his black Escalade. As the show began, two of Ford’s staff members brought the media coffee and Timbit doughnuts. The Brothers Ford marched into the studio holding prepared speeches, looking ready for battle.
“Chief, I’m asking you to release this video, now,” Rob Ford said, his voice strong and direct. “Toronto residents deserve to see it. And people need to judge for themselves what they see on this video. Friends, I’m the first one to admit, I am not perfect. I have made mistakes. I have made mistakes, and all I can do right now is apologize for the mistakes. I sincerely, sincerely apologize.”
Exactly what he was apologizing for wasn’t clear. Ford mentioned the night he was “hammered” on the Danforth as something he regretted. He apologized for texting while driving. He said things had gotten “out of control” on St. Patrick’s Day 2012.
But when Toronto residents phoned in later in the show and asked the mayor point-blank about his drug use, Ford dodged the questions. He said he couldn’t comment on the video. In the end, the mayor promised to cut back on his drinking, but he said it was unrealistic to think he’d never have a drink again. Brother Doug chimed in, “You’re going to curb your drinking, especially in public.… You can stay in your basement, have a few pops.”
Ford tried to avoid reporters on his way out of Newstalk, but we were waiting in the parking garage. At first, Ford relayed through a security guard that if we didn’t leave, he’d call the police. Newstalk 1010 had invited us into the building to cover the show, so we weren’t leaving. After a short standoff, Ford walked into the garage flanked by two staff members.
It was like a mob. I was blinded by camera flashes.
As he walked past, I shouted, “Mayor Ford, have you ever smoked crack cocaine?”
Then someone else said, “Mayor Ford, have you ever smoked crack cocaine?”
A third: “Mayor Ford, do you have an addiction problem?”
A fourth: “Mayor Ford, have you ever smoked crack cocaine?”
He peeled out of the driveway fast enough that several of us had to jump out of the way.
The pressure didn’t let up the next week, and on Tuesday Doug Ford made it worse, essentially accusing Chief Bill Blair of being part of the Toronto Star conspiracy against his brother. The mayor wouldn’t be resigning, but Doug Ford thought Blair should.
“[Blair] believes that he’s the judge, the jury, and the executioner,” he said on AM640’s John Oakley Show. “He wanted to go out and put a political bullet right between the mayor’s eyes, and thought that would be the final bullet to knock the mayor off, and he showed his cards—he thought he had a royal flush and … he has a couple of pairs of deuces,” Doug said. “I think personally—this is just Doug Ford’s opinion—he needs to step down until the probe is done, and there’s obviously a bias right now, moving forward in this city, with a police chief against the mayor of this city.”
Afterwards, Doug Ford headed to Ryerson University for a pre-scheduled talk with journalism students about how the media had it in for his family. He told the students how I’d stalked his elderly mother. How I and some of my other colleagues would hide in the bushes at the family’s cottage, behind the mayor’s house, sometimes in his backyard. He presented these allegations as fact.
Around the time Doug Ford’s lecture got to the subject of the Star vendetta, Rob Ford drove his Escalade into the parking lot of City Hall and had a brainwave. He phoned his chief of staff.
“I’m going to blow their minds” was all he said.
As had been the case for the last week, dozens of reporters were waiting outside Ford’s office. By chance, I happened to be there that morning. Ford walked off the elevator, a funny expression on his face. When someone asked him why Doug was doing all the talking, Ford stopped and turned to us, which was unusual.
“You guys have asked me a question. You asked me a question back in May, and you can repeat that question.”
We looked around at each other. What was he talking about? Someone asked about the video.
“You asked me a couple questions,” Ford said, “and what were those questions?”
Jackson Proskow from Global News asked, “Do you smoke crack cocaine?”
Ford looked right at him. “Exactly! Yes, I have smoked crack cocaine. But, no, do I? Am I an addict? No. Have I tried it? Probably in one of my drunken stupors, probably approximately about a year ago.”
I nearly dropped my tape recorder. Did I just hallucinate? I looked around at my colleagues. We all had our mouths open.
“I answered your question,” continued Ford. “You ask the question properly, I’ll answer it.… So, I wasn’t lying. You didn’t ask the correct questions.”
The mayor walked away shortly after.
Even Ford’s confession was not wholly truthful. He had been asked dozens of times if he’d ever smoked crack. And the Star now knew that the video was filmed in February 2013. So unless he wasn’t smoking crack out of that glass vial, that too did not add up. Again, Ford wanted to wipe the slate clean with an apology.
THE SPEED AT WHICH THINGS unravelled from there was stunning. Every day became more surreal than the previous one. With his admission, Ford lost every friend at city council. It wasn’t just the hard drug use. It was the lying. The mayor could no longer be trusted. And worst of all: he was refusing to do the dignified thing and step aside.
“I think he’s lost the moral authority to lead,” said Councillor Denzil Minnan-Wong that same Tuesday. “We’re in uncharted territory.”
Minnan-Wong began investigating ways to censure the mayor. Left-wing councillor John Filion drew up a series of motions to strip the mayor of his power. A council that had been bitterly divided for the last three years suddenly found itself working towards a common goal. People put aside partisan differences and began talking about what was best for the city, how to protect its image and the integrity of its local government.
Meanwhile, reporters from around the world were booking plane tickets to Canada, the country with the crack-smoking mayor. CNN set up a live satellite truck behind City Hall. The BBC flew in a correspondent. Toronto’s mayor was regularly being skewered on American late-night television.
On November 7, with the world documenting every crazy twist emerging from City Hall, the Star revealed it had obtained another video of the mayor.
The video showed the mayor raging, pacing, punching the air, and threatening to kill somebody. “I’m gonna kill that fucking guy. I’m telling you, it’s first-degree murder,” he says, talking rapidly. “I’ll rip his fucking throat out. I’ll poke his eyes out.… I’ll make sure that motherfucker’s dead.… I’m a sick motherfucker, dude.”
Ford seemed to be ranting about someone who’d called the three Ford brothers “liars” and “thieves.” The clip is seventyseven seconds long and seems to have been shot in August 2013. Someone off-camera tells Ford to wait until “after … the by-election,” referring to a provincial election in Etobicoke. In the footage, it’s obvious that the mayor is on something.
That afternoon, Ford was once again apologizing. “I just wanted to come out and tell you I saw a video. It’s extremely embarrassing. The whole world’s going to see it. You know what? I don’t have a problem with that.… I hope none of you have ever or will ever be in that state. Obviously, I was extremely, extremely inebriated.”
But that wasn’t the last bit of breaking news.
That evening, I was in the City Hall press gallery, finishing a story about how recent events would likely shake up the mayoral candidate roster for 2014, when I heard Diane Ford talking. I whirled around in my chair and there was Ford’s mother and his addict sister, Kathy, having a sit-down TV interview with CP24 anchor Stephen LeDrew.
“Oh, my god,” I cried out, “Kathy Ford is on television!”
I couldn’t believe it. Kathy Ford had never appeared publicly. The Star didn’t even have a photo of her in its archives. Now, she was sitting with her mother on a big beige couch in what I recognized to be the Ford family home, volunteering for an interview. Kathy, wearing a red slouchy turtleneck with a black shawl, was the spitting image of her baby brother. She had the same pug nose, heavy brow, turned-down mouth, and blond hair.
It was a train wreck, and I couldn’t look away. I wondered what addled strategy would involve bringing out a drugaddicted sister to defend a mayor accused of drug addiction. Why would one of the most powerful politicians in the country have his mother fight his battles? Kathy and Diane Ford had to have done this on their own. Somewhere, I imagined Doug Ford’s head exploding.
“I was so angry,” Kathy began. “I guess, before this, first of all, at Rob, my brother. I love him to death. I will support him to his dying day. As my dad always said, ‘United we stand, divided we fall.’ And we have lived by that as a family. And it’s hard, sometimes, but to see
the people jumping on the bandwagon. And the people that did not support him and just taking this for all it’s worth.”
Kathy spoke with the husky voice of someone who had lived a hard life. It was difficult to follow her scattered train of thought.
“Robbie is not a drug addict. I know, because I’m a former addict. Or an addict, if you would want to say. And as an alcoholic, if you want to consider binge drinking, once every three months and you get totally plastered, which he just makes a fool out of himself, and I’ve even asked him to leave my own— one time I saw him, fine—but he has done so much other things than this. And it seems— Nobody, I mean, unfortunately, yes, this has all come out. And it’s horrible, and the first person that was upset was my mom.”
We were all watching through our fingers by this point. It was so awkward, so telling, you almost felt guilty seeing it.
Now it was Diane Ford’s turn. A grandmother eight times over, Diane was still a striking woman. She wore an all-black ensemble with a chunky belt and stylish black glasses. Her short blond hair was swept back and coiffed.
“It’s not acceptable behaviour,” she said. “He is the mayor of the city. But he knows that better than anyone. Now but, you know, to err is human, but to forgive is divine. And we all err … but forgiveness isn’t in the eyes of the media right now.”
Both women said that Rob wouldn’t be resigning. There was no need. They’d had a family meeting the previous Friday and talked everything through.
“It was a real outpouring of feelings. There was nothing put on. There were no lies. There was— I think it was just how we all felt about each other. What our expectations, what my expectations, are for my family,” Diane said. “I didn’t say shape up or ship out, but I did say, ‘You know, Rob, this is— You’ve gotta maybe smarten up a little bit. Get back on line. I know you can do it. I know you are doing it. But now you have to—’ He does have a problem … he has a problem. He’s got a weight problem.”
Crazy Town: The Rob Ford Story Page 26