Life never changes: Ivana Trump’s final resting place is a tax shelter

Ivana Trump, the first wife of Donald Trump, died last month in New York City. Photo: Evan Agostini / Invision 2018

When ProPublica first reported that Ivana Trump’s burial at the Trump National Golf Club in Bedminster, NJ, could be a tax benefit to her ex-husband, I was shocked that the former president might mix business with something as sacrosanct as funeral rites.

Well, actually not.

I was, however, surprised that the 73-year-old Ivana, who died on July 14 after falling down the stairs at her home, would choose to spend eternity in the Trump family plot behind the course’s first hole. Ivana and Donald Trump had a remarkably acrimonious divorce in 1992 after his affair with Marla Maples, who became his second wife. And although Ivana had publicly supported Trump’s run for president in 2016, one does wonder if it really was her wish to spend her life hereafter with a man she once accused of sexually assaulting her while they were married (a charge she later retracted).

One thing is clear, though. Under New Jersey’s tax code, land used as a cemetery is exempt from all taxes, rates and assessments. Cemetery companies are also exempt from real-estate taxes, rates, and assessments or personal property taxes, business taxes, sales taxes, income taxes and inheritance taxes. Ka-ching.

I’d hoped I could conjure the spirit of Ivana for an interview about all this, but my Ouija board is out of service. So, I could only imagine what she’d have to say about her final resting spot…

Once, you know, I epitomized an era of New York excess. My jewels were bigger, my limos longer and my hairdo higher than even my husband’s buildings. When he divorced me, my brand became all about surviving betrayal and glamorous self-sufficiency. I even got the most memorable line in the movie “The First Wives Club”:

“Ladies, we have to be strong and independent. And remember: Don’t get mad, get everything.”

Now? It seems I get to spend eternity staring at the backsides of people teeing off at ex-husband’s country club … in New Jersey!

I may be dead, but where’s the waiter with my drink?

I’m not claiming I was ever “St. Ivana.” I profited from Donald’s, um, questionable business practices. I lived a lavish lifestyle while we were married, and I did take some of his money (and the Plaza Hotel) when we divorced. And OK, maybe I even claimed on television after Donald became president in 2016 that, technically, as the first Trump wife, I was the true first lady.

I guess you could also claim that I gave birth to three of the most egregious examples of nepotism this side of Tori Spelling, but still, did I deserve this? I had told Ivanka, Don Jr. and, um, Hannibal, I think, that I wanted to be cremated and have my ashes spread where I was happiest in life — in the fur vault at Dennis Basso. Instead, I went from having a park view to having a view of grunting men perspiring in polo shirts. I am not resting in peace.

What I’ve seen at Bedminster so far is not pretty. There was Rudy Giuliani’s hair dye slowly melting down his neck until it burned a hole in the grass. I heard Tiffany calling Marla to warn her not to go near the stairs for a while. I saw Don Jr.’s fiancee, Kimberly Guilfoyle, wildly swinging her 4-iron as she shouted at the ball that “the best is yet to come!”

I watched Melania sink into the lawn in her Louboutins, and Jared Kushner slowly turn around and smile at a photographer the way Damien did in the final scene of “The Omen.” Donald even came by to let me know I was a good above-the-line deduction.

Am I surprised my final resting place is a likely tax shelter for him? Come on. You should talk to Roy Cohn, his early mentor, if you want a surprise. He still can’t get over Donald abandoning him when he was dying of AIDS after all the tricks and business maneuvers he taught him. There’s a reason Roy said that Donald “has ice water in his veins.”

I better say goodbye for now, someone else is teeing off. … Wait — you’re saying Donald and the kids are going to be buried here, too? Waiter!



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