Donald Segretti: Watergate Saboteur Now Thriving as Bankruptcy Lawyer at 84

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Donald Segretti returned from Vietnam recently after his draft service. An old friend from USC called him. The caller asked if he wanted to work for the President. It sounded like a dream opportunity at first. Unfortunately, it led to membership in CREEP. His name became synonymous with Watergate half a century later.

Now 84 years old, Segretti remains as engaging as ever. Sixty Minutes once called him an unlikely political saboteur. He has stayed out of the spotlight since then. Few people remain from that infamous scandal today. He rebuilt his life successfully after the chaos. He practices bankruptcy law in California now. He is happy about his productive post-scandal existence.

In a rare interview, Segretti described being thrown to the wolves. Drama engulfed the Nixon administration during those turbulent times. On October 10, 1972, officials named him an undercover operative. The White House and CREEP paid him for dirty tricks. He targeted Democratic presidential candidates specifically during that election cycle.

This youthful lawyer stood just five feet four inches tall. Media frenzy immediately tracked him to his Los Angeles apartment. The Washington Post located his Marina Del Rey home quickly. He testified at Senate Watergate hearings later that year. Prison followed, and he served four months behind bars.

His whirlwind began after a year of military service in Vietnam. He served as a commissioned officer in the Judge Advocate General's Corps. There, he conducted court martials for various cases. Before deployment, he attended USC where he met fellow students. These acquaintances included members of the Trojans for Representative Government group. They carried out college election dirty tricks together. Many later became Nixon White House staffers known as the USC mafia.

Segretti also spent time at Cambridge University in the United Kingdom. He eventually ended up with that crowd in Washington DC. He called those years a nightmare to the Daily Mail reporter. He was very young and comparatively inexperienced then. Officials lured him into working for the group in the White House. What they told him turned out very different from reality. He felt maimed and beat up by much of the media.

He did not call them up initially. They called him instead. He ended up in the middle of something unknown to him. He lacked background information on who these people really were. The scandal erupted after a burglary at DNC headquarters. Segretti had no involvement in that specific break-in incident.

He figured out what he was in the middle of eventually. Then he broke with them decisively. The administration really wasn't happy with his decision to leave. They sort of just cut him off completely from their circle. So he was on his own without support. He felt thrown to the wolves by his former allies.

Over time, grit and hard work helped him get through it. Persistence played a major role in his recovery journey. Eventually everything came out fine for him personally. Over the years he built a nice life for himself too. He created a successful law practice through sheer determination.

I am still refining my approach, but it remains a deeply distressing chapter for me," admits Donald Segretti. While his name is often linked to the notorious break-in at the Democratic National Committee headquarters in Washington, D.C., Segretti's actual criminal activities were distinct from that burglary of the Watergate Hotel. Instead, he directed efforts toward undermining Democratic presidential hopefuls during the 1972 primaries by employing agents who operated under the alias "Don Simmons." These covert operations were specifically engineered to derail Ed Muskie, the frontrunner who was polling ahead of President Richard Nixon at the time of his reelection bid.

The most notorious instance involved the fabrication of damaging rumors using stolen stationery from the Muskie campaign office. Forged letters were mailed to constituents alleging that Hubert Humphrey had a history of drunk driving arrests and claiming that Senator Henry "Scoop" Jackson had fathered a child with a 17-year-old girl. These falsehoods were crafted to mimic a grassroots smear campaign orchestrated by Muskie's own team, aiming to erode public trust in the candidate. Other tactics employed by Segretti included logistical pranks, such as reserving hotel rooms and entertainment for events that Muskie did not want to host; he would then stand across the street from the venues to observe the unwanted arrivals firsthand.

The impact of this era was immortalized in the film *All the President's Men*, where Segretti is portrayed by Robert Walden. In a memorable sequence, the character receives a visit at his Marina Del Rey residence from journalist Carl Bernstein, played by Dustin Hoffman. Within the narrative, Segretti describes his illicit maneuvers as "nickel-and-dime stuff," noting that he attached a sense of wit to these pranks. He also popularized the term "ratf***ing," which originated at USC to describe political stunts. In recent interviews with *The Daily Mail*, Segretti revealed that he rarely watches the film in its entirety because the memories it evokes are too painful to revisit without interruption.

"That entire experience was excruciating," he stated, explaining his reluctance to sit through the movie: "I really never sat down and watched it." Following these events, Segretti managed to rebuild his career as a lawyer in California, distancing himself from the political storm of the 1970s that eventually engulfed him. He clarified to the media that he possessed no knowledge of the broader Watergate conspiracy involving his associates, asserting, "I knew nothing about Watergate... I had no knowledge of 99 percent of what the hell they were doing." He felt victimized by a press corps he characterized as opportunists who ran over him without understanding his role.

During the televised Senate hearings in 1973, Segretti displayed remarkable candor regarding the sabotage he orchestrated. "I was trying to survive and get through it," he recounted, describing the intense pressure of appearing before senators dressed in makeup for television. He likened the proceedings to a scripted show where he felt like a puppet manipulated by circumstances beyond his control. While acknowledging that John Dean served as the star witness against President Nixon, Segretti noted that his perspective differed from the public consensus. In 1974, he pleaded guilty to three misdemeanor counts related to distributing illegal campaign literature targeting Muskie. He subsequently served four months in prison, with the latter half of his sentence spent under conditions resembling a witness protection program alongside approximately twelve others. Reflecting on this unusual incarceration, Segretti described an unexpected level of camaraderie among inmates who were largely from Mafia families on the East Coast: "Everybody was pleasant to me.

They could not comprehend my presence." In 1973, Donald Segretti faced a suspension of his California law license for two years; however, officials considered his remorse and cooperation with Watergate investigators when imposing the penalty. Following his appearance before the grand jury, the media landscape shifted dramatically, announcing President Richard Nixon's resignation while Bob Woodward and Carl Bernstein of the Washington Post continued to expose the scandal that had engulfed the nation.

Two decades later, in 1995, Segretti sought a seat on the Orange County Superior Court bench, yet the shadow of Watergate remained pervasive. "At one point, I was told you'd make a wonderful judge, and I ran as a judge, but the press got all over it," Segretti recalled. He argued that the venture lacked dignity for such an office and simply made no sense. "They dug up a lot of nasty stuff, and a lot of it untrue," he noted, observing that once newspapers printed stories—regardless of accuracy—they became accepted fact for individuals without deep institutional backing, effectively turning fiction into reality.

By the year 2000, Segretti served as an Orange County co-chair for John McCain's presidential campaign, maintaining a record free of dirty tricks. "Believe me, we didn't do anything like this," he insisted, describing his efforts as a straightforward campaign that ultimately failed to secure the nomination. He concluded this chapter of political life there, warning that the arena can be fiercely brutal and nasty.

Now 84 years old, Segretti continues his work as an attorney. "I worked hard, through grit and perseverance I built a comfortable practice, got married, raised a family, have a wonderful daughter and grandchildren, and led a productive, quiet life," he stated. His current legal focus includes business law and bankruptcy cases designed to assist individuals navigating difficult times, allowing him to apply his past experiences to help others in distress.

Viewing Washington from the sidelines today, Segretti expresses shock at contemporary developments. "I'm appalled," he declared, citing excessive money in politics as a primary issue that allows unsuitable candidates to win elections. He also criticizes specific Supreme Court rulings, including *Citizens United*, which enabled massive financial influxes into campaigns, and decisions expanding executive power or presidential immunity, all of which he opposes. "We've gotten away from the country that used to be, and the way it was formed, and the thinking that went behind it," he lamented, describing the current era as unnerving. Although Watergate served as a watershed moment, he believes recent events represent a more profound shift with lasting consequences.

When asked to compare President Nixon and Donald Trump, Segretti noted they were fundamentally different figures despite their flaws; while Nixon ultimately desired what was best for the country, Trump's motivations appeared centered on himself and his family. Describing himself as an old-fashioned Republican who admired Dwight Eisenhower, Segretti stated he had long since parted ways with Nixon yet remains a member of the party. He criticized the lack of a robust two-party system in America, arguing that Democrats have drifted off course while both parties prioritize power over checks and balances, often sacrificing national well-being for political gain.

In the immediate future, the nation faces significant turbulence while grappling with deep-seated institutional weaknesses. Both political parties have struggled to provide effective leadership during this difficult transition. Conversely, looking toward the distant horizon offers a glimmer of hope that America might eventually renew its spirit and overcome these challenges.

Yet, for many observers, historical scandals like Watergate feel like relics from another era. Former President Richard Nixon addressed this sentiment directly when asked about his legacy. "I closed the chapter on that," he stated firmly. He advises clients dealing with life's traumas to adopt a similar perspective: shut the book on past pain and focus on moving forward. "That's what I did, and hopefully others will do the same."

This approach of looking ahead rather than dwelling on history raises critical questions about how current political directives impact vulnerable communities. When leadership fails to address systemic flaws, the consequences ripple outward, affecting public trust and social stability in ways that echo long after specific events fade from memory. The path forward depends less on revisiting old wounds and more on whether new leaders can rebuild a system capable of serving all citizens equitably.