Vicious War Divides NYC High-Society Apartment Tower, 1120 Fifth Avenue

In the foyer of his 12-room co-op overlooking Central Park, financier Clifford Press is hunched over, trying to persuade his 14-pound Jack Russell to stop showing her belly. Behind him, sunlight streaks through the cavernous living room, adorned with gold mirrors, hardwood floors, and a working fireplace.

The building, 1120 Fifth Ave., is a dense nexus of wealth, home to Michael J. Fox, Nelson Rockefeller’s daughter, and heirs to the Sears and Toys “R” Us fortunes. It should be a respite from New York’s loud streets.

But Clifford Press is a man at war. His enemies, he tells The Daily Beast, are the relative peasants on the “B and C” side of his building who sit on the 11-person co-op board. “They’re in the sort of cheaper apartments,” he said. (Those units are generally worth $5 million to $10 million, while his is worth at least eight figures.)

Last week, Press’ wife, Elizabeth Sawyer, filed a lawsuit accusing the board of extortion, bribery, and racketeering—a charge often employed against gangsters and mafiosi. “Hidden behind the limestone façade of a Museum Mile neoclassical is a corrupt group of entrenched cooperative directors who are exploiting the corporation by their criminal and other bad acts,” the suit alleges.

“We were shocked by the extent of corruption,” Press, 70, added in his deep Johannesburg accent. He is not listed as a plaintiff because the apartment is in Sawyer’s name, owing to an “estate-planning gimmick” from the 1990s. He is, however, the more vocal combatant.

According to the lawsuit, board members have enriched themselves while violating the co-op’s bylaws in order to remain in power. Meanwhile, they have spent heavily on litigation, including against building residents.

In 2019, the suit says, the board spent $7,390 on premiums for “directors and officers” insurance, a standard expense to protect itself in case of lawsuits. The next year, because of the board’s alleged legal problems, the bill went up, to $33,902. Then it climbed further, to $44,000, $75,000, and finally $134,000. The deductible also skyrocketed 40-fold, to $200,000. Residents of the co-op share the burden of expenses, so in effect, fed-up owners who file lawsuits against the board are hurting themselves.

Sawyer, who has been critical of the board for years, alleges in her suit that its members retaliated against her during the pandemic by attempting to evict her. Then, the board “conspired to hire a private investigator to try to dig up evidence that [Press], who was raised in South Africa, was a racist who engaged in unethical business practices,” the lawsuit says. “That venal strategy also failed, but Ms. Sawyer and Mr. Press have been forced to spend hundreds of thousands of dollars in an attempt merely to remain in their home of over thirty years.”

In a statement, Michael Pensabene, the co-op’s outside counsel, disputed the accusations against the board: “This meritless lawsuit was brought by a disgruntled co-op resident for the sole purpose of harassing her neighbors, who voluntarily serve the building on the co-op’s board. This is a flagrant abuse of judicial process and we are confident that this frivolous complaint will be promptly dismissed.”

Stan Stein, who lives on the 11th floor, blames many of the problems on poor communication. “This pandemic has affected how people relate to one another,” he told The Daily Beast. Stein, a retired investment banker, agrees with Press, “100 percent, that there needs to be governance changes in this building,” though he thinks the claims of outright corruption are unfounded. (Stein’s wife, Linda, a former board member, is listed as a defendant.)

Another resident, who asked to remain anonymous, applauded Press’ campaign. “This isn’t some work of a crazy person,” the resident said. “My personal opinion is that this is a very proud, very intelligent man who they’ve humiliated.”

On Friday, after The Daily Beast visited the co-op, and after the New York Post reported on the lawsuit, the board sent a letter to owners asking them not to speak with the press.

Almost immediately, a resident called The Daily Beast to gripe. “We’re literally being told not to talk to you, that there’s nothing to see, and that this will all be dismissed, which is categorically a lie,” the person said. “Many of the board members seem to believe they can keep gaslighting the shareholders.”

One afternoon last week, as Press traipsed past the uniformed doormen in his lobby, a middle-aged blonde woman sat by a window, averting eye contact. “We have a problem now. She’s on the board, so we’ve had to sue her,” he explained outside.

Things used to be warmer. For…