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Michael Grimm Falls Back to Earth. In a Ballroom on Staten Island.

NEW YORK — The dream died near the cash bar, beside the stiff focaccia and the medley of Italian meats.

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By
Matt Flegenheimer
, New York Times

NEW YORK — The dream died near the cash bar, beside the stiff focaccia and the medley of Italian meats.

“Noooooo!” came the first cry from that corner of the Staten Island ballroom, which was supposed to be hosting a party Tuesday night.

“Recount!” went another.

Then came the expletives. Then came more.

But nothing could reverse it. Former Rep. Michael Grimm — undeterred by a felony tax plea, which he recently chalked up to a witch hunt, and a presidential endorsement for his opponent, which he had dismissed as insignificant — was acknowledging something he did not expect to reckon with this time: political gravity.

“We make plans,” he said, conceding a lopsided defeat to Rep. Dan Donovan, the Republican who replaced him in Congress when Grimm went to jail. “God laughs at us.”

He shrugged a bit. He smiled. He urged the people to rally behind Donovan. He left the stage.

“Don’t worry,” he said before he did. “This is just the beginning for Michael Grimm.”

Soon, a country song, “Friends in Low Places,” came on. Guests began to shuffle away. But first, they unburdened themselves.

“It was pre-baked,” said Jerry Mignone (“like filet mignon,” he said of the pronunciation), 69, wearing a Grimm-branded T-shirt that also implored his company to board “the Trump train.” He blamed Michael R. Bloomberg, the former New York City mayor, who had donated to Donovan.

Others pointed fingers nearer to home.

“He did right by Sandy victims,” said Scott McGrath, 50, echoing common praise among constituents for Grimm’s ubiquitous advocacy after the 2012 storm. “Sandy victims let him down.”

McGrath pledged never to vote for Donovan. Grimm was more charitable.

“I’m happy for Danny today,” he said. “Our people didn’t come out. I guess the president’s endorsement mattered more than I thought.”

Though Grimm had held a solid lead in public polling, Tuesday night’s gathering never once resembled a winning room. For most of the evening, the space was half-full. Attendees grimaced at their phones, checking election returns. A stunning result was brewing among Democrats in Queens, but here, the establishment forces had held.

“We literally have everyone against us,” Grimm reminded reporters before the polls closed, visiting a campaign office that shares a stretch of Hylan Boulevard with a tanning salon, a European waxing center, a fingerprinting service and a luxury furrier.

Behind him, a half-dozen volunteers were working the phones. A tally sheet nearby categorized the calls: “Yes,” “No,” “Undecided,” “Not Home,” “Not Alive.”

“All I have,” Grimm said, “is the people.”

Just not enough of them. From the start, his baggage was heavy, his obstacles hulking. Four years ago, in the same grand hotel ballroom of gesticulating talkers and unsubtle jewelry, Grimm toasted his re-election while under indictment — “Have you been drinking?” he shouted gleefully at revelers from the stage that night (they had been). He had assured residents in the runup to the vote that a possible trial would be little distraction from his official duties.

“Members of Congress have to take time off for myriad reasons,” he said then.

In fact, Grimm did so for a very specific reason: pleading guilty after all, forgoing a chance to clear his name as promised, and surrendering his seat before serving seven months in prison.

He returned in this campaign with a pitch to match the times: His tax fraud case, he insisted, mirrored the Russia-tinged investigations into President Donald Trump — two witch hunts passing in the night.

Trump was unmoved. He joined nearly every relevant elected official and party institution in backing Donovan. Now, Grimm is too.

As the room cleared, he lingered long after conceding, chatting up friends and well-wishers.

“Have a drink! Party!” he said from the stage. “We’re not done yet.”

Grimm’s next move is uncertain. But he has a few ideas, after a life that has already included Congress, the Marines and the FBI.

“I’ll probably be practicing law,” he told reporters, “if that’s what God wants.”

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