Retiring Lobbyist Pushed Law that Changed Industry

Looking back on nearly 28 years as a bank trade group executive, Samuel J. Damiano says the high point came early on.

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In 1982, Mr. Damiano, then the president of the New Jersey Savings League, helped shepherd through the Legislature a bill that let state-chartered mutual thrifts make commercial loans and to convert to stock ownership. It also let the thrifts form mutual holding companies and sell minority stakes to investors.

That bill later became the model for federal legislation that has transformed the thrift industry.

Mr. Damiano, 71, will step down as the president and chief executive of the New Jersey League of Community Bankers at the end of the month. His impending departure has triggered an outpouring of affection from New Jersey bankers.

"He is our association's No. 1 asset," said Raymond G. Hallock, the president and CEO of Columbia Bank in Fair Lawn and the trade group's current chairman. "He is well known in the halls of both Trenton and Washington as a consummate professional. That is the way I'll remember him. He makes life easy. He'll do all the work and then fade in the background and let me take all the credit."

Michael A. Horn, the league's counsel and a former New Jersey banking commissioner, said Tuesday that Mr. Damiano has built a reputation as a straight shooter.

"The thing I've always admired about Sam is the respect in which he is held by public officials," Mr. Horn said. "They trust him implicitly. With some lobbyists, you have to double-check everything they tell you. I found out early on that he was someone who would never mislead you. I've never heard anyone speak ill of him."

About 450 people attended a testimonial dinner in Mr. Damiano's honor last month, including Diane Casey-Landry, the president and CEO of America's Community Bankers.

"They wanted to honor a person who has given a tremendous amount, both personally and professionally, to this industry," she said. Mr. Damiano followed an unlikely path into lobbying. After serving in the Army, he took a job as a beat cop in Newark. It was a natural move for someone who had grown up in a blue-collar neighborhood there.

"When we got out of the service, we all went for civil service jobs," he said Wednesday.

Mr. Damiano walked a beat for four years and then worked as a detective for 10 years - a span that included the 1967 riots that killed 23 people and injured more than 700. Following the riots, the local Jaycees, a civic organization to which Mr. Damiano belonged, asked him to head a special project working with young residents the group had tabbed as emerging leaders.

The work brought Mr. Damiano into contact with the New Jersey Chamber of Commerce, which offered him a job as a lobbyist in 1970.

"I was ready for a change," he said. "Those were difficult times in the city, and when the offer came, I readily accepted it."

He was raised in a large Catholic family, and he has been active in the church throughout his life. In 1996 he was ordained a deacon, and in 2003 he officiated at Ms. Casey-Landry's wedding to Brock Landry.

Mr. Damiano presided over the New Jersey Savings League's 1996 merger with the New Jersey Community Savings Bankers that formed the League of Community Bankers. That group has experienced steady growth over the past decade; today it represents 76 banks and thrifts with nearly $70 billion of assets.

When he became the president of the savings league in 1979, it had 20 members - all mutual thrifts - with about $10 billion of assets.

His impending retirement provided the impetus for another potential combination. This summer the League of Community Bankers entered merger discussions with the New Jersey Community Bankers Association. Mr. Hallock said that the groups are still talking, and that Mr. Damiano's retirement removes one thorny issue that merging trade groups usually contend with: who will run the merged organization.

As bankers across the Garden State praised his leadership, Mr. Damiano said that one key constituent remained unsure about his legacy. "My 90-year-old mother was sitting next to me at the testimonial dinner, and after it was over, she turned to me and said, 'All these people said these nice things about you, but I still don't know what you do.' "


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