Tweet
From The Sunday Times
August 23, 2009
My story, by the mistress of Bernard Madoff
Sheryl Weinstein gave her life savings and her love to disgraced financier without realising he was world’s biggest swindler
For almost three months after Bernie Madoff was arrested, I wandered through life in a mental fog. Day after day, I awoke with a weight on me; this total feeling of dread. Not only do I feel like Bernie stole our money, but he also stole our future dreams, a part of my son’s future, the little money my parents had left me, and the money my 88-year-old mother-in-law had given to us to invest for her.
In those early days, my dark, ironic humour took hold. One night as I sat in my bedroom, unable to comprehend all that had happened, a thought entered my mind: I am probably the only person in the world who has been screwed twice by Bernie Madoff.
Ronnie, my husband, wasn’t aware of my entire story. I decided it was best to tell him before he found out. I had faith that his reaction would be all right. I felt comfortable being truthful with him. I wasn’t proud of what I had done, but we had been married for almost 37 years, and this was the extent of my unfaithfulness.
We sat down after dinner one night. I told him that I had something to share with him. Before he could say anything, I plunged in. “I had an affair 15 years ago.”
He didn’t appear shocked or angry, but he asked: “With whom?”
This was the hard part. “With Bernie,” I said.
“You’re kidding!” He almost laughed. “With Bernie? Him? What about Joey?”
Joey was my college boyfriend, whom I’d stayed in touch with over the years. “I thought if you were going to have an affair with anyone it would be him,” Ronnie said.
“No, it was Bernie.”
In order to move forward, I have decided to tell my story. I truly hope Ronnie will be able to forgive me for sharing these private moments in our lives.
It was 9am on February 25, 1988 when I entered New York’s Lipstick Building, the red-enamelled skyscraper on Third Avenue. As chief financial officer of Hadassah, a Jewish charitable organisation of 350,000-plus women, I’d been asked to a meeting to discuss a $7m donation, the largest we had received from a single benefactor.
The donor, an elderly man named Albert, lived in France. He wanted to remain anonymous, and he stipulated that a New York broker named Bernard Madoff should manage the funds. So here we were — Ruth, the Hadassah president, two other executives and me — at the Lipstick Building to meet Madoff.
Page 1 of 9
August 23, 2009
My story, by the mistress of Bernard Madoff
Sheryl Weinstein gave her life savings and her love to disgraced financier without realising he was world’s biggest swindler
For almost three months after Bernie Madoff was arrested, I wandered through life in a mental fog. Day after day, I awoke with a weight on me; this total feeling of dread. Not only do I feel like Bernie stole our money, but he also stole our future dreams, a part of my son’s future, the little money my parents had left me, and the money my 88-year-old mother-in-law had given to us to invest for her.
In those early days, my dark, ironic humour took hold. One night as I sat in my bedroom, unable to comprehend all that had happened, a thought entered my mind: I am probably the only person in the world who has been screwed twice by Bernie Madoff.
Ronnie, my husband, wasn’t aware of my entire story. I decided it was best to tell him before he found out. I had faith that his reaction would be all right. I felt comfortable being truthful with him. I wasn’t proud of what I had done, but we had been married for almost 37 years, and this was the extent of my unfaithfulness.
We sat down after dinner one night. I told him that I had something to share with him. Before he could say anything, I plunged in. “I had an affair 15 years ago.”
He didn’t appear shocked or angry, but he asked: “With whom?”
This was the hard part. “With Bernie,” I said.
“You’re kidding!” He almost laughed. “With Bernie? Him? What about Joey?”
Joey was my college boyfriend, whom I’d stayed in touch with over the years. “I thought if you were going to have an affair with anyone it would be him,” Ronnie said.
“No, it was Bernie.”
In order to move forward, I have decided to tell my story. I truly hope Ronnie will be able to forgive me for sharing these private moments in our lives.
It was 9am on February 25, 1988 when I entered New York’s Lipstick Building, the red-enamelled skyscraper on Third Avenue. As chief financial officer of Hadassah, a Jewish charitable organisation of 350,000-plus women, I’d been asked to a meeting to discuss a $7m donation, the largest we had received from a single benefactor.
The donor, an elderly man named Albert, lived in France. He wanted to remain anonymous, and he stipulated that a New York broker named Bernard Madoff should manage the funds. So here we were — Ruth, the Hadassah president, two other executives and me — at the Lipstick Building to meet Madoff.
Page 1 of 9
Comment