Trump’s Family Fortune Originated In A Canadian Gold-Rush Brothel
The descendant of a scumbag. The whole world will be thinking about who he really is and where he really comes from every time they see his face or hear his voice. Trump’s Family Fortune Originated In A Canadian Gold-Rush Brothel
To Trump Supporters: Donald Trump’s grandfather Friedrich Trump Made his fortunes exploiting women like your own mother, sister or daughter.
You must be really thanking your God for that!
Donald Trump’s grandfather Friedrich Trump ran a restaurant, bar, and brothel in British Columbia.
Buried in a ghost town in Canada’s subarctic are the roots of the family fortune that paved Donald Trump’s path to prominence.
Only shards of glass bottles remain on the lake shore in Bennett, British Columbia—remnants perhaps of the lively establishment operated by Trump’s grandfather that was known for good food, booze and ready women. A church sits further up the slope, its lonely spire peeking out from a thicket of pines.
Bennett was once a thriving transit point for prospectors in the Klondike gold rush at the turn of the 20th century, and Friedrich Trump made a killing running a restaurant and bar. The nest egg he generated in just two years grew into the fortune that has supported his grandson’s bid for the U.S. presidency.
The ‘Arctic Restaurant’ Shop In Whitehorse, Yukon, Canada. The Shop Is In The Same Location That Donald Trump’s Grandfather Friedrich Trump Owned And Operated A Hotel And Restaurant Under The Same Name.
“Who else can say that someone running for president of the United States of America owes his fortune to your hometown?,” says Scott Etches, 55, a shop owner hawking Trump t-shirts in Whitehorse, Yukon, about 100 kilometers (62 miles) north of Bennett. “It doesn’t matter whether you support or oppose Trump. It’s actually a great history.”
More than a century after Trump’s grandfather left the Yukon, Canadian developers and entrepreneurs are torn over whether to exploit the connection to one of the most recognized surnames on the planet. A luxury wilderness resort is planned for Bennett, complete with a lodge that would look just like Trump’s watering hole.
“There’s so much history, so many stories around here—Trump is just one of them,” says Nelson Lepine, who runs the development arm of an indigenous group leading the project.
The Trump family’s gold-rush story began when Fred, as he was known, left Germany at the age of 16 with little more than a suitcase. He headed to New York to work as a barber before venturing west in search of riches.
Following stints in Seattle and now-defunct Monte Cristo, the gold fever carried him to Bennett, where he and partner Ernest Levin built the Arctic Restaurant, which touted itself as the best-equipped in town.
It was open around the clock with “private boxes for ladies and parties,” according to an advertisement in the Dec. 9, 1899 edition of the Bennett Sun newspaper.
The boxes typically included a bed and scale for weighing gold dust used to pay for “services,” according to a three-generational biography by Gwenda Blair, who traced the origins of the Trump family’s wealth.
Of course, in the rough-and-tumble frontier towns of that era, the Arctic’s business model built on food, booze and sex was common.
The Arctic sat a stone’s throw from Bennett Lake in the heart of the township, amid a row of similar establishments and a sea of white canvas tents set up by prospectors. It was constructed of milled lumber and stocked fresh oysters, extravagant luxuries in a place where supplies were brought over arduous overland routes.
“I would advise respectable women travelling alone, or with an escort, to be careful in their selection of hotels at Bennett,” according to a letter penned by “The Pirate” in the Yukon Sun on April 17, 1900. For single men, the Arctic offered excellent accommodations but women should avoid it “as they are liable to hear that which would be repugnant to their feelings and uttered, too, by the depraved of their own sex.”
Trump quickly saw where the real profits lay amid the gold-rush frenzy. An estimated 100,000 prospectors set out for the Klondike, of which only a third actually made it, and a mere 4 percent ever struck gold. Given those odds, Trump’s willingness to lay down his pick was “a shrewd move,” according to Blair. “He was mining the miners.”
Bennett was a key hub for prospectors, who trudged from Alaska across frozen mountains and floated rickety rafts down the treacherous rapids of the Yukon River to Dawson City in search of elusive gold. The town lost its allure with the construction of a railway link from Skagway, Alaska to Whitehorse, allowing miners to bypass Bennett.
In response, Trump dismantled the restaurant and its precious lumber and rebuilt it in Whitehorse. A photo in Blair’s book shows a mustachioed Fred Trump in a white apron. He’s standing at the bar near a wall of drapes behind which women, known as “sporting ladies,” entertained miners in privacy.
Trump was a rich man when he left Whitehorse in 1901 to return to his native Kallstadt, Germany, where he later deposited savings of 80,000 marks in the village treasury, Blair recounts. Unable to regain German citizenship, he returned to New York with his riches.
That amount—equivalent in purchasing power to about half a million euros in 2014—ended up funding the Trump family’s first residential real estate investments in the New York area, later carried on by his son Fred and grandson Donald.
Trump, who claims in his memoir that his grandfather was Swedish, told the New York Times in August that Blair’s portrayal of Friedrich’s business was “totally false.” Trump’s spokeswoman, Hope Hicks, didn’t reply to two voice mails and an e-mail requesting comment.
The Yukon’s rolling hills, cerulean lakes and aurora displays have long been a magnet for intrepid travelers, canoeists and hunters on pricey expeditions.
Capitalizing on its indigenous history and links to a business tycoon like Trump could forge a tourist mecca, according to a 2014 plan drafted by the economic development arm of a First Nation community, the Carcross Tagish Management Corp., along with the Parks Canada government agency.
Justin Ferbey, then-chief executive officer of the Carcross group who is now Yukon’s deputy minister of economic development, said he tried to get a resort proposal into Donald Trump’s hands.
The plans called for a luxury wilderness camp in Bennett, including a replica of the Arctic Restaurant to serve as the central guest lodge.
Trump either didn’t bite or never saw it, though the project has proceeded without him. Four wooden platforms overlooking the lake are nearly complete and will be fitted with luxury tents housing antique furnishings, wrought-iron bed frames, and high-end mattresses.
Guests, limited to eight at a time, will dine at a central guest lodge with a modern kitchen made of old-growth fir reclaimed from a Klondike mine.
A four-day, all-inclusive package—including a float plane transfer—is tentatively priced at C$1,675 ($1,250) a person. A soft opening is planned for next summer with full operations by 2018.
“They’ll be wined and dined; we’ll serve top-notch foods. But you’ll still be connected to nature—there’ll only be one piece of canvas between you and the bears,” says Lepine, CEO of Carcross Tagish. “It’s the kind of experience people are really seeking out.”
Lepine and Michael Prochazka, a product development officer at Parks Canada, aren’t as keen as their predecessors to play the Trump card. The central lodge with its arched facade, gabled roof, scrollwork and pine cladding bears a striking resemblance to photos of Trump’s eatery.
Prochazka says it’s not a replica of the Arctic, more an archetype of designs common at the time.
Meanwhile in Whitehorse, Etches has a different take on the Trump connection potential. In a shopping mall on the site of the former transplanted restaurant, he’s rented a tiny storefront called “The Arctic.”
A sign outside notes the birthplace of the Trump family fortune. Inside, he sells T-shirts, black and white prints, and posters like “The Arctic Under New Management. No Liquor, Whores or Gambling Until Further Notice.”
While Etches acknowledges that sales fall “a bit short” of covering his C$200 in monthly rent, he still believes the Trump story is a potential boon for the region.
“We could get every single American tourist on the Alaskan highway pulling over just to see where that fortune was made,” he says. “It doesn’t matter whether they support or oppose Trump. They’d still come off the highway and spend money.”
Elizabeth Christ Trump, Donald Trump’s Grandmother: 5 Fast Facts You Need to Know
A & E aired a “Biography: The Trump Dynasty,” a 3-part special about the history of President Donald Trump’s lineage. The biography begins with the story of Trump’s immigrant grandparents, Friedrich and Elizabeth Christ Trump.
In the official A&E description of the special, they say “‘Biography: The Trump Dynasty’ draws from first-hand accounts and never-before-seen archival footage to examine the life and heritage of the 45th President of the United States.
As part of the award-winning Biography series, the documentary spans three generations of the Trump family saga and offers an in-depth exploration of the influences that shaped Donald Trump’s personality, celebrity, and ambition in business and politics.”
Here’s What You Need To Know About Elizabeth Christ Trump:
1. She & Friedrich Immigrated To The US From Germany
Forbes quotes Gwenda Blair’s book The Trumps: Three Generations of Builders and a President, as writing that “Friedrich Trump was not leaving home so much as fleeing three centuries of barbaric European history.
He was born and raised in the village of Kallstadt, in the region of southwestern Germany called the Pfalz, or the Palatinate in English.”
According to The Washington Post, he was only 16 when he came to America. He and Elizabeth both immigrated from the same hometown and were married in New York.
2. She Had 3 Children
Elizabeth and Friedrich had three children together: Frederick, John G., and Elizabeth. Her son Frederick is Donald Trump’s father, and he was born in 1905. According to The Washington Post, Elizabeth was pregnant with Frederick when she, Friedrich, and their young daughter Elizabeth tried to return to Germany from the US.
She raised her children in the South Bronx, New York.
3. She Passed Away In 1966
According to Geni.com, Elizabeth was born “Elisabeth Christ” on October 10, 1880. She passed away at the age of 85 in Manhasset, New York, on June 6, 1966.
Donald Trump was born on June 14, 1946, which means Elizabeth was alive for the first 20 years of her grandson’s life.
4. She & Her Husband Earned Their Wealth Investing In Real Estate
Although he worked as a barber in the States at first, they report “he moved to the Pacific Northwest years later to make a name and fortune for himself during the Gold Rush era. He opened businesses — hotels, taverns and restaurants, usually located in red-light districts — in frontier mining towns.”
By the time he and Elizabeth were married and starting their family, he had accumulated wealth and become an American citizen.
5. Frederick Started His Company Under Her Name
Donald Trump’s father Frederick was only 14 when his father passed away in 1918. According to the BBC, Frederick followed his father’s footsteps in real estate; however, since he was still a minor, they say he “found[ed] a company initially under his mother’s name.” Because her husband passed away when she was only 37 years old and a mother of three, she took on the matriarch role in her family and ended up responsible for managing their property.
The BBC reports that Frederick expanded his business portfolio and increased his wealth “by building affordable housing for middle-income families along the US east coast during and after World War Two.”
Updated: 9-18-2024
Trump Buys Fans Burgers And Pays With Bitcoin At New York Bar
Republican presidential nominee made unusual campaign stop in New York, seeking to further bolster his support from Bitcoin fans.
NEW YORK—A former president walks into a dive bar and asks, “Who wants a hamburger?” He pulls out an iPhone and pays not with dollars but with bitcoin.
“History in the making,” Donald Trump declared Wednesday after making the transaction at PubKey, a Greenwich Village tavern that is the it spot for Bitcoin enthusiasts—a rising financial and political force that Trump is hoping will help him return to the White House.
The Founding Fathers had Fraunces Tavern, the Manhattan saloon where George Washington closed out a successful war against the Brits. Trump has PubKey.
“PubKey is the drinking hole for the bitcoin revolution. He’s now one of us,” said Mike Germano, president of Bitcoin Magazine. Germano, 42, a former Democrat who plans to vote for Trump in November, had a prime viewing position for the visit.
“It’s a significant step in bitcoin history. It’s more than a currency, it’s a movement,” said PubKey co-founder Andrew Newman, 40, whose bar features a $12 beer-and-shot special.
Trump once said bitcoin seemed like a scam, but he has embraced the industry, appearing at a recent conference in Nashville and raking in millions of dollars in campaign contributions made in Bitcoin as he promised a more favorable regulatory climate if he wins a second term.
“Almost everyone starts out as a skeptic,” said Thomas Pacchia, 40, the hat-wearing, lightly bearded co-founder of PubKey whose aesthetic could be described as dive-bar chic.
“But when you do the work and dive into the protocol, you start to understand the really elegant mechanisms around decentralization, the way mining works, the way that transactions are effectuated. It’s not an easy technology to grasp. It just takes time.”
After making his bitcoin payment Wednesday, Trump said it went quick and “beautifully.” He paid roughly $950 in bitcoin for smash burgers and Diet Cokes.
Invited guests were brimming with excitement when the teetotaling 78-year-old Trump stepped into the cramped New York dive bar. Red hats read, “Make Bitcoin Great Again,” and on the wall, near an old-school boombox and a bank of cassettes, was a digital ticker displaying the current value of one bitcoin.
A sign on the wall warned, “Central bank digital currencies enslave.” Trump has also pledged to halt any work on central bank digital currencies if he is re-elected in November.
“I’m shocked to see anybody here, to be honest. I thought all New Yorkers hated him,” said a self-described politically agnostic East Village resident who declined to give his name, not wanting to further alienate his wife—a Trump supporter—from her Trump-loathing friends.
T-shirts being passed around reminded Trump of a campaign promise he’s made: “Free Ross Day One,” a reference to Silk Road founder Ross Ulbricht, who was sentenced to life in prison in 2015 for running the online drug bazaar.
Ulbricht has become a symbol among libertarians and Bitcoin fanatics of government overreach.
“They’ve been treating you very badly at the SEC,” Trump said in the bar, referring to the Securities and Exchange Commission’s crackdown on the Bitcoin industry.
At the bitcoin conference, Trump said he would fire SEC Chair Gary Gensler on his first day back at the White House, a promise that was met with thunderous applause. And just this week he launched a Bitcoin project with his elder sons, Eric Trump and Donald Trump Jr.
The former president has told crowds at conferences and events that he wants to make the U.S. the “world capital for Bitcoin.” Trump promised the creation of a “strategic national bitcoin stockpile” and the establishment of a bitcoin and Bitcoin presidential advisory council.
Some attendees at the PubKey event appeared to be bitcoin maximalists, Bitcoin slang for people who view bitcoin as the best and most important cryptocurrency. Germano corrected Trump when he called the burgers he paid for “crypto burgers.”
“It’s a bitcoin burger,” Germano shouted, referring to the $17 handheld that comes standard with pub sauce, lettuce, onion, tomato and cheese.
Trump didn’t seem fazed by the difference. “Everybody, whether it’s bitcoin or Bitcoin, get out and vote, because if you vote, we cannot lose,” he said.
After Trump left, a group of enthusiasts gathered in the back of PubKey to hear a venture capital bitcoin pitch. Fans of the bar spread word that detractors were filling online sites with negative reviews.
A man with a whiskey pulled out his phone and typed out a five-star review. The guy next to him did the same.
Leave a Reply
You must be logged in to post a comment.