Just a month after the FBI seized his phones and other devices, Mayor Eric Adams spoke with tech entrepreneurs at an unusual private event where he asked for contributions to his legal defense fund, according to four people who attended.
Two of the dozen or so attendees provided details from the Dec. 5 event but asked not to be identified to discuss the private gathering. One attendee said the evening was billed as a chance to hear Adams talk about his housing policy. Instead, Adams gave some brief remarks while flanked by hype men exhorting him as the “get s--t done mayor,” according to attendees. Then, they said women in tight red dresses arrived unannounced to collect donations.
The pitch fell flat. Adams raised only two donations totaling $2,500 that appeared to be tied to the event, according to a public filing. But the gathering — which attendees described as "weird" — offers a window into the mayor's hands-on approach to raising money for his mounting legal bills, brought on by a federal investigation into his 2021 mayoral campaign.
Vito Pitta, a lawyer for Adams and his campaign who is overseeing the legal defense fund, declined to answer questions or comment on the gathering.
Adams has not been accused of wrongdoing. But his legal woes have raised questions about whether he can remain focused on governing while juggling the challenges that come with raising money for a legal defense fund. Unlike traditional campaigns, the legal defense fund cannot take any donations from those with city contracts or anyone doing business with the city and there is a $5,000 contribution limit per donor.
The mayor’s legal defense fund has raised more than $1.3 million from 450 people since it was set up in November.
The event was organized and hosted by tech startup founder couple Mark Severs and Jesse Horwitz. Gothamist communicated with four attendees and reviewed a photograph from the event as well as email correspondence from organizers.
The photo taken that evening shows Adams, who is wearing a black suit without a tie, surrounded by a dozen men who appear to be in their 30s and 40s, several of them dressed casually. As far as fundraisers go, it was a simple affair: Guests snacked on a spread of mixed nuts, La Croix sparkling water and wine. The mayor sipped on a mix of Tito’s vodka and soda.
Expectations of the December event varied, according to the four people Gothamist interviewed. But one attendee said he expected the conversation to be policy-oriented and wanted to hear the mayor talk about his “City of Yes” initiative to change zoning rules to facilitate housing growth.
Horwitz, the host, is on the board of the 5BORO Institute, a think tank that has been supportive of the mayor’s agenda, including his housing plan.
But Adams didn’t engage in a substantive discussion of housing, the attendee said. Instead, he went around the room and asked the men to introduce themselves and talk about their work before launching into his own remarks about the budget, the migrant crisis and his legal problems. The same attendee said he felt it was a failed opportunity to cultivate support for a key policy currently up for approval by the City Council.
Severs and Horwitz both declined to comment for this story.
Adams’ colorful entourage drew as much attention as the mayor himself. Toward the end of the event, he received an assist from a woman that one attendee identified as Alisa Roever, a socialite who has been a guest at former President Donald Trump’s Mar-a-Lago resort and is currently involved in a philanthropy effort with the mayor’s brother.
In a phone conversation, Roever said she could not remember the event but acknowledged having attended fundraisers for the mayor’s legal defense fund. She did not respond to a follow-up inquiry.
One of the attendees said Roever arrived unannounced at the event with another woman. They then stood by the door and collected checks. Donors were handed a fundraising disclosure form to complete.
The attendee also said the mayor seemed to have brought his own cheering section: two casually dressed middle-aged men with thick local accents who would occasionally interject with expressions of support like, “That’s 'cause you’re the get s--t done mayor!”
“It was all a bit rah rah,” the attendee said, adding the men complained that Democrats in Washington were to blame for the mayor’s struggle with the migrant crisis, a familiar talking point for Adams himself.
As the event drew to a close, the mayor finally addressed what the attendee described as the “enormous elephant in the room”: He spoke about federal investigators looking into his involvement in fast-tracking the opening of a Turkish consulate, part of what fire department officials say became a pattern of prioritizing fire safety inspections for certain entities.
“He basically framed it as ‘Yes, I was moving things along. That’s what I do as mayor, which is to make the city more productive,” the attendee said.
Adams then said he needed to raise a minimum of $600,000 to pay for his legal bills. His legal defense fund has already paid more than $730,000 to WilmerHale, the law firm representing the mayor and his campaign.
Only two people had checkbooks with them, according to two people there. One person asked if they could pay through Venmo. The answer was no.
Five days later, Roever sent a follow up email. The message, sent from her iPhone, was short and to the point.
“Any contributions? So l can pick it up?” she wrote.
Adams has repeatedly maintained the investigations will not be a distraction.
“I'm focused on moving the agenda forward,” he told reporters in March. “And I think that that is going to be one of the greatest attributes that people are going to do when they analyze this administration, how this mayor, under so many circumstances, were able just to maintain doing the job.”