Trump dumping East Wing debris in local park as part of grandiose plan shrouded in secrecy
Debris from President Donald Trump's demolition of the White House's East Wing is being dumped in a Washington, D.C., public park where he plans another grandiose project without meaningful consultation or regard for tradition.
Dump trucks bringing an estimated 30,000 cubic yards of soil started arriving in October at the East Potomac Golf Links, and not long afterward the Trump administration abruptly terminated the 50-year-old lease for the affordable golf course held by the nonprofit National Links Trust, reported the New York Times.
Trump hopes to transform the 210-acre public park into a "U.S. Open-caliber" championship course hosting major tournaments, yet the plan reveals fundamental flaws.
Leading golf course architects universally expressed skepticism, with Mark Mungeam, president of the American Society of Golf Course Architects, calling it "a crazy idea." Robert Trent Jones Jr., a former ASGA president, concurred: "It's a great aspiration, but technically, I think this land is not big enough."
The site's constraints are considerable: It's a flat, man-made island with only one access point, lacks topographic interest necessary for tournament golf, and cannot accommodate the crowds, parking, and hospitality infrastructure required for major events.
Realizing these impossibilities, Trump's vision would require demolishing beloved features — the cycling path, picnic area and, critically, cherry blossom trees originally gifted from Japan in 1910, a unique historical treasure. Yet the Trump administration offered no architect, no timeline, no cost projections and no clear plan for maintaining affordability after transformation.
“It’ll be a real loss for a lot of people in the city,” said Bryan King, a 68-year-old mural painter from Arlington, Virginia, who was playing a round with his son one unseasonably warm day in January.
“There’s plenty of very expensive country clubs in this area already,” said his son, Eamon King. “This has always been kind of, like, the people’s course.”
Mike McCartin, the nonprofit's leader who grew up playing this course with his father and wrote his master's thesis on affordable golf, was blindsided. The administration initially suggested collaboration, then grew impatient and simply took control.
"There's an opportunity to figure out how to work together and accomplish something great," McCartin said. "I don't know why that hasn't been a conversation."