Mark Greenberg, 40-year career Photojournalist, editor and best-selling author
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In my 41-year-long career as a photojournalist and one of some distinction, I have never met a more rude and despicable person. Not one. In 1983 in preparation for the opening of the much heralded Trump Tower, I determined that a photo feature on the opulent new building and it's gregarious developer would be a good story to sell worldwide. The stores inside were of a broad international collection and it seemed there was not yet in NYC anything to compare with what Trump Tower was heralding.

I called the Trump organization and spoke to Trump's right hand woman, Norma Foerderer and told her that I had an assignment from STERN Magazine of Germany- the equivalent of LIFE magazine in the US. I explained we were doing a straight editorial piece on TT and needed a protrait of Mr. Trump in the environmental setting of the lobby area. At this time, both I and the photographer who shared the assignment with me had worked regularly with LIFE Magazine, TIME, NEWSWEEK, PARIS MATCH, etc.-the best of the best.
Wayne and I arrived early and set-up our strobe lights, reflectors, umbrella's and began taking polaroid tests of the lighting to be sure we had the right balance of light and color and background. We do this to ensure the result and to not waste the time of our usually busy subjects.
Mr. Trump arrived with his entourage a few minutes after our prescribed time and I distinctly recall seeing Ivana and Norma. He was wearing a beautiful full length blue cashmere coat.
I walked over to Norma to introduce myself and tell her that we were ready for the shoot. Mr. Trump followed us to our "install".
I recall that we took one more polaroid with Mr. Trump to be sure that the lighting was just right for his reflective value- and Wayne then began to shoot with his Nikon using Kodachrome. Wayne took two shots and Mr. Trump turned and disappeared.
We were dumbfounded, mouth open. He neither greeted us or said goodbye, thank you...nothing. I went to Norma and asked her "what just happened" and she said basically I'm sorry.
Thirty four years later I think I finally figured it out.
First, both Wayne and I were dressed smartly, he with his signature Harris Tweed jacket and I had on a beautiful Cashmere blazer that I had purchased in Milan. I know that Mr. Trump is the kind of person who would judge people by the way they looked. I think we simply did not have enough of a staff to primp up Mr. Trump's sense of himself. No hair stylist, no make-up, not set decorator, etc. Just not enough to make him feel compensated for his entitled self.
When a photojournalist is working on a story of this type, it was generally considered inappropriate to have that type of attention; your subject needed to be seen "warts and all". In addition, the magazines would not have allowed the expense. Shooting for a Vanity Fair or similar would be a completely different story.
I have photographed in my long career many multi-millionaires, worked the past 28-years with a very lovely multi billionaire, photographed statesmen and presidents.
I only wish the American voting public knew the real Donald Trump. That is who he is.