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

The Court’s ruling came in July, and neither Leo Clark nor any other independent Democrat would jump into the campaign at such a late date. The Farleycrats were the only ones organized, and they chose a political unknown, Harry Gaines, who dutifully went to the slaughter. Predictably, Farley was re-elected to a four-year term by a margin of more than 13,000 votes.

Farley’s re-election didn’t frighten his critics. They felt Perskie would have beaten him if the Supreme Court hadn’t toyed with the senate districts. Hap was responsible for the appointment of Vincent Haneman and as a longtime member of the Judiciary Committee had reviewed every court appointment for more than 25 years. Rather than being discouraged, Farley’s detractors strengthened their resolve. They received assistance from the local media, in particular, the Atlantic City Press . In late 1969 and early ’70, Atlantic City’s only newspaper ran a series of articles based on the investigative reporting of Bernard Izes and John Katz. Corruption had been the norm in Atlantic City’s government for so long that bribery, graft, and payroll padding were standard practices of doing municipal business. Three generations of Atlantic City residents had known nothing but dishonest government. The Press decided to shine some light on Farley’s organization.

Izes and Katz didn’t have to be detectives to uncover material for articles on political corruption. The Republican machine was an open book. The reporters began with the city’s uniformed employees, where they found that 9 out of 10 Atlantic City firefighters made annual contributions to the Atlantic County Republican Committee. Of the 221 men listed on the 1968 fire department payroll, all but 19 were contributors. In response to these reports, Fire Chief Warren Conover stated that all the contributions were voluntary and said that there was no pressure, with the firefighters merely being told, “If they want to pay, it is time to get it in, but there is not any retribution against anyone who doesn’t want to pay.” Contrary to Conover, the Press investigation revealed that deputy fire chiefs were given lists of names of those who had refused to contribute to the organization. These firefighters were routinely skipped over on the civil service promotion lists. In one instance, a firefighter was passed over for nine years while a vacancy he was qualified to move into went unfilled.

Izes and Katz’s investigation revealed that payroll padding with political hacks was rampant in city and county government. No-show employees were found to exist in every department of city hall. The reporters established there was a direct link between the no-show employees and the precinct workers. As had been the tradition for nearly 70 years, the loyalty of the Republican political workers was rewarded at the expense of the local taxpayers. A sampling of the payroll padding exploited by Farley’s machine ran the gamut: An investigator in the revenue and finance department spent 100 percent of his time either selling insurance out of his home or working at the Republican Party headquarters; a luxury tax investigator had a fulltime job as a bus driver and never reported to city hall except to receive his check; an assistant supervisor of weights and measures had never made a single inspection and spent all his time as a car salesman; a health inspector, who was a loyal precinct captain, worked full-time at a local hotel and had someone pick up his checks for him.

Another area exposed by Izes and Katz was graft on public contracts and extortion of businesses regulated by the city. They revealed that nothing had changed in city hall since the conviction of the Commodore. Everything had its price and if you wanted to do business with city hall, you had to kick back a percentage of your profits or you were blacklisted. Businesses that were regularly inspected for potential health or fire violations didn’t get a clean bill of health unless they paid. If you didn’t pay the inspector, you were shut down.

If it involved city hall, no business transaction was routine. A liquor license could only be transferred by using Stumpy Orman as the broker for the sale. Eddie Helfant or Ed Feinberg had to be used as the attorney to make the application to the city. If you didn’t use the proper people or grease the right wheel, you got nothing out of city hall. Izes and Katz’s articles ultimately prompted an investigation by the U.S. Attorney’s office resulting in the indictment of Mayor William Somers and several commissioners and city officials. These defendants were dubbed by the local media as the “Atlantic City Seven” and were all convicted by a federal jury of bribery, extortion, and abuse of the public trust. Each of the convicted defendants remained silent and Farley was never indicted.

The sun was setting on Frank Farley’s career, but he refused to accept it. The first half of his life had been devoted to sports, the second half to elective politics, and he was a champion in both worlds. For nearly 70 years the gratification derived from excelling in competitive activities had been Hap Farley’s life. He had never known life without the excitement of combat, whether on the playing field or in politics. It wasn’t possible for him to step down gracefully. Like an aging boxer who believes he can win one more title bout before retiring, Hap Farley was destined for a knockout.

Farley’s fortunes were tied to those of his city. As the boss of his town’s politics, he was the one the voters would eventually hold accountable as things got worse for the resort. It was only a matter of time before Farley’s constituents would turn on him and seek a new leader in hopes that someone else could turn things around.

In addition to the resort’s deteriorating economy and exposure of corruption in its government, there was growing discontent within the Republican organization. The exodus of middle-class Whites from Atlantic City during the ’50s and ’60s to the mainland communities along Shore Road, namely Absecon, Pleasantville, Northfield, Linwood, and Somers Point, produced a dramatic change in the county Republican organization. These mainlanders didn’t have the loyalty to Farley’s machine their parents and grandparents had for the political ward system. They were more educated, more affluent, employed at jobs unrelated to tourism, and not beholden to the Republican Party. Atlantic City’s influence in county politics had been diluted. The power was now more evenly distributed, and the Shore Road Republicans were growing tired of Farley. They wanted a change in party leadership.

Politicians begin thinking about the next election as soon as the last one is over. Once the polls have closed and the votes are tallied, would-be candidates and their supporters begin vying for position in the next contest. Coalitions are formed and commitments made early in this unending process. The several months after an election may appear uneventful to the general public, but this is the time when politicians make their decisions concerning who will be rewarded or punished for their role in the previous campaign. It’s a critical period in the political process. What the public sees later is window dressing. While Hap Farley had worked tirelessly in the 1970 general election and his candidates were all victorious—albeit by slim margins—there were those within the Republican organization who began to view him as a liability to the party. Before the month of November was over, the dissatisfaction that had been simmering for several years boiled to the surface.

Less than 10 days after the ’70 election, Farley had a revolt on his hands. It began with a resolution adopted by the Linwood Republican Club. The Linwood group was only one of several mainland Republican clubs that was growing restless with the Farley-Boyd stranglehold on the party. The statement endorsed by the Linwood GOP called for “political and governmental reform in Atlantic County” and warned that their party was “in need of more enlightened leadership to meet head-on the needs of today. Policies of the past must be abandoned.” It was a bolt of lightning.