Nelson Johnson - Boardwalk Empire - The Birth, High Times, and Corruption of Atlantic City

The ice cream combine was a natural. Each of the principals brought a special talent to the project. After World War II the state adopted legislation giving veterans priority for the right to peddle goods in public; however, it was a right subject to local licensing and Boyd had absolute control over who received a license. Despite the fact that as clerk to the freeholder board Boyd had no official tie with city hall, his relationship with Farley gave him the undisputed jurisdiction over such matters. During his reign as Fourth Ward leader there wasn’t a business license for anything that didn’t require Boyd’s approval. Ever the conniver, it took Jimmy Boyd no time to see the potential in the situation.

Boyd recruited Ed Nappen because of his ties with the veterans groups. Nappen had been Fourth Ward leader and local magistrate and was active among Atlantic City’s veterans. Nappen chose people who could be trusted to play ball with the combine by kicking back a portion of their profits. Perr was a lawyer who had contacts with the Philadelphia ice cream manufacturers. He saw to it no independents were supplied and set up the mechanics for distributing the ice cream. There were more than a few people who knew of Boyd’s scheme, but no one ever complained or cried foul. Only in Atlantic City could you find someone like Jimmy Boyd profiting from the sale of popsicles.

Sweetheart setups to line politicians’ pockets such as Boyd’s ice cream monopoly were accepted as common practice by the community. Corruption was routine. Atlantic City’s residents didn’t care that their government was dishonest. What mattered was that government, through the ward politicians, responded to their needs. Quite often that need was for a patronage job with city or county government. The Farley and Boyd regime continued Nucky Johnson’s practice of doling out hundreds of part-time and no-show jobs. The organization controlled thousands of positions such as lifeguards, health inspectors, couriers, maintenance men, clerks, ticket collectors at Convention Hall, and groundskeepers at the racetrack.

Obtaining one of these jobs began by making contact with your precinct captain. You didn’t just drop by city hall and ask for an application. The precinct captain where you lived had to “sponsor” you or you’d never even receive an application. Every position was allocated and filled on a ward-by-ward basis. Appointments to fill vacancies by resignation, death, or dismissal were always done on a ward basis. If a person who resigned or died was working in city or county government and came from the Second Ward, then his replacement came from the Second Ward. It was possible for ward leaders to make trades for one position or another, but the rule was that when a vacancy arose the first question asked was where did the person live? “It was a strict system and was absolute law in the Atlantic City political organization. If there wasn’t an opening available for your ward you’d have to wait until there was.”

Atlantic City’s seasonal economy made year-round, full-time employment a precious thing. If you were lucky enough to land a full-time job, such as a police officer, firefighter, or office worker, you were indebted to the Republican Party. As part of your employment, you were required to become active in ward politics and to contribute a percentage of your salary to the party. This usually took the form of buying tickets to political fundraisers. More importantly, any promotions at work were generally dependant on how well you performed as a political worker.

The incentive to work for the party was the chance of upward mobility. The person ahead of you had been where you were and he had worked his way to that position by being loyal to the party. If you did the same, you could move up, too. If you were to amount to anything, either in government or the political organization, you had to get an education in politics. The system guaranteed that, “If you were going to move up politically, you had to know what you were doing in terms of street politics. If you didn’t, you simply didn’t move up.” The ward system was continually renewing itself by breeding new politicians.

An example of a political leader bred by the Atlantic City ward system is demonstrated in the career of Richard “Dick” Jackson. In 1928, at the age of 20, Dick Jackson moved from the Fourth Ward of Atlantic City to the Second Ward. He had two reasons for his move. He was unhappy and poorly paid with his job as a bank teller and was looking for permanent employment as a fireman with the city. The number of applicants ahead of him on the waiting list in the Fourth Ward made any chance of getting a job hopeless. Dick’s brother, Howard, was a veteran fireman and encouraged his younger brother to move, because the likelihood of winning an appointment to the fire department would be better in the Second Ward. Howard also had plans of his own. He wanted to become a captain in the fire department but knew it would never happen until he first became a precinct captain. Dick had an engaging personality and Howard recruited his brother to help in expanding his power base. As a precinct captain, Howard would then command the respect of the organization and have the “political standing” needed to become a captain in the fire department.

Although Dick joined the Second Ward Republican Club promptly after moving, he had to wait more than a year for an opening with the fire department. Immediately after moving to the Second Ward he immersed himself in ward politics. “I knew that if I was ever going to advance myself, I’d have to do like my brother, Howard, did. I went to all the political meetings, made sandwiches, served beer, waited on tables and cleaned up after rallies. I handed out political literature, ran errands, drove people to the polls and registered new voters. Whatever my precinct captain or ward leader asked me to do—I jumped to it.”

Jackson made himself known by participating in sports and circulating in the community, getting to know everyone in his neighborhood on a first name basis. One of the people he met through sports was Hap Farley, and they became friends and political allies immediately.

At election time, Jackson went door-to-door urging support for the Republican slate. The standard pitch was, “You don’t know the candidate, but I do, and he is the one I have to go to when there’s something that you need and you come to me for. So if you expect me to be able to help you, you have to vote for this person.” Jackson was selling himself and the system more than he was selling a particular candidate. Through their efforts, one election after another, Dick and Howard Jackson paid their dues to the Republican organization. They finally got their opportunity to break into the hierarchy five years later in 1933. The precinct captain where the Jacksons lived was ill and near death when he decided to step down. The person presumed to be his successor was John Lewis, a freeholder. However, the Jacksons demanded a vote on who would be the next precinct captain. According to party rules every registered Republican in the precinct was permitted to vote, not just dues-paying club members. Dick and Howard Jackson called in all their favors and packed the meeting place with their supporters. Howard won easily and within a year’s time became a captain in the fire department.

Dick Jackson had to wait five more years to make his move. In 1938 Howard moved from the Second Ward to the Fourth Ward, leaving a vacancy for precinct captain. Jackson succeeded to his brother’s job and remained there until 1941 when he found himself in the middle of Hap Farley’s maneuvering to become boss. Jackson respected Farley and had committed himself to support Hap as Nucky’s replacement. The Second Ward leader, at that time, was Sam Weekly, who was also chief of police. Weekly had ties with both Taggart and Farley and was reluctant to choose between them, trying to remain neutral. To Farley that was the same as being an enemy. By 1941 Farley was gaining control in city and county governments. He began putting out the word in the Second Ward that the person to see for patronage was Jackson. When Weekly was cut out of the spoils system, the ward workers knew he had fallen and wanted no part of his leadership. In ward politics, “everyone is waiting for the person ahead of them to stumble.” When the election of ward leader came up the following year, Weekly resigned rather than be humiliated by Jackson.