THE first time I heard the name of “Puffy” Combs was exactly eight years ago today — Dec. 29, 1991.
It was the morning after nine young people of color were crushed to death in a stampede at a rap event at City College the previous night.
I made some calls and quickly found out the co-promoter of the event was a 22-year-old striver named Sean Combs who had sold term papers and organized house parties before he dropped out of college.
The cops were saying nine people died because of inadequate security and lousy planning and overselling of tickets by Combs and his co-promoter, rapper Heavy D.
A month later, an official report on the tragedy was drafted by then-Deputy Mayor Milton Mollen, a former appellate judge.
The Mollen report, called “A Failure of Responsibility,” named Puffy as one of those most derelict in responsibility.
The report concluded Puffy spent little time on preparations, and delegated arrangements to younger people “who had no experience.” It said Puffy “should have known” to take proper precautions, because he knew 1,500 tickets had been sold in advance.
Mollen’s report also said the fliers promoting the event promised some of the profits would go to “AIDS education,” but this was a “misrepresentation.” No money went to any AIDS charity.
Since that night when nine bodies were piled up on a college campus, Puffy has become famous, a megacelebrity, a multimillionaire rap mogul.
Puffy has become a pet of the establishment while acting like an outlaw in the clubs.
The City College tragedy was an early warning that was ignored.
And now after being increasingly reckless and lawless the last few years, Puffy has been arrested for illegal possession of a gun. Three people were shot this week by Puffy’s posse, with Puffy standing there.
Puffy’s rap sheet is longer than his list of rap hits, which have become increasingly derivative and slick and removed from any reality of the projects. If Puffy is still street, it’s Wall Street.
It’s a perfect symbol of Puffy’s decadence that this club fight began when somebody threw a wad of cash in Puffy’s face. I can just hear them shouting, “My wad is bigger than your wad.”
Puffy pretends to be street to the hip-hop generation he exploits with hype as he travels around town in his fancy car and armed bodyguards with stolen guns. But when you look at the police records, Puffy never has a fair fight with anyone. He always has a posse, a gang, a gun, a bodyguard to back him up.
In April, he needed two bodyguards (one an ex-convict with a record of violence) to help him beat up and break the jaw of record company executive Steven Stoute.
Puffy and his posse hit the poor guy with a champagne bottle and a cell phone — which can cause more damage than a wad of flash cash.
Puffy bought his way out of this trouble by paying the victim $500,000 in exchange for Stoute asking the DA to drop the charges.
An idiot judge sentenced Puffy to one day of “anger management class.”
In 1996, Puffy and his posse threatened New York Post photographer G.N. Miller. Puffy had a gun that night. He was fined $1,000 for the thuggery.
There are rumors of other violent episodes covered up with money.
In court on Monday, the prosecutor said Puffy “has a history of violence,” and asked for $100,000 bail.
Maybe Puffy thinks he has to act like a thug because he is now so far removed from the real life of poverty and despair that rap music, at its best, describes and dramatizes.
If that is the case, then his thug life is a pathetic part of his commercial act.
His new record contains a rap called “Fake Thugs,” as well as a song about Jesus, “My Best Friend.”
The 18-year-old hip-hop fans I talk to call Puffy a “fraud” and an exploiter of the music.
Puffy just stepped into the vacuum created when the truly talented Tupac Shakur was murdered, and the real gangster record exec, Suge Knight, went to prison for his crimes.
Puffy is the worst role model available to the hip-hop generation, regardless of the specific facts in this case, which remain murky.
He is not a creator. He is not tough without a posse and goons with guns. He is not real. He is just a rich businessman with a PR machine. Earlier this year, Judge Louis Benza found that Puffy Combs and Heavy D bear “half the responsibility” for the nine corpses at City College eight years ago.
The families of the dead have been trying to negotiate a settlement with Puffy. They have nothing but their grief.
But Puffy has been too busy giving parties for 2,000 close friends, going to clubs, and acting like a punk to meet his responsibilities to these real people.