Garden State Gangland

by Scott M. Deitche

  This early mix of Mafia families, Jewish syndicates, and miscellaneous gangs spread across northern New Jersey was far from the only underworld activity going on in the Garden State. Starting on January 17, 1920, with the Eighteenth Amendment and the prohibition of the manufacture, transport, and sale of alcoholic beverages, the various bays, inlets, and waterfronts down the Jersey Shore and up into the Delaware River became hotbeds of bootlegging and the criminal empires moved out of the confines of the big cities and onto the beach.

  1. James A. Edgerton, “Black Hand Murder Trust,” Asbury Park (NJ) Press, April 16, 1909, 11.

  2. Joseph Ricciardi, personal interview with the author about the New Jersey Mafia, e-mail, February 20, 2007.

  3. (Bridgewater, NJ) Courier News, “In Terror of Black Hand,” January 16, 1905.

  4. The heart of the neighborhood, Seventh Avenue, still exists today, though much of the old buildings and businesses were felled by urban renewal in the 1950s.

  5. Edgerton, “Black Hand Murder Trust.”

  6. (New Jersey) Courier News, “Italy and America Both Warring on the Italian Criminal,” January 28, 1911.

  7. Michael Immerso, Newark’s Little Italy: The Vanished First Ward (New Brunswick, NJ: Rutgers University Press, 1999).

  8. G. V. Straus, “The Newark, NJ Police,” The Police Journal 7 (March 1921), 78.

  9. Ibid.

  10. Adubato’s family was recognized at a Police Unity ceremony at the Newark fallen-officers memorial in 2016.

  11. John P. Wilgus, La Cosa Nostra—Newark Division. Newark Field Office, Federal Bureau of Investigation, 1963.

  12. New York Times, “2 Slain, 3 Wounded by Jersey Gunmen; Score of Revolver Shots Rake Candy Store in the Italian Section of Newark,” August 23, 1935, 5.

  13. Trenton Evening News, “Lottery Gunfire Kills Two,” August 22, 1935.

  14. Asbury Park (NJ) Press, “Shooting Witness Held,” August 27, 1935.

  15. Plainfield (NJ) Courier-News, “Former Boxer Slain, Brother Is Wounded,” February 23, 1937.

  16. D’Amico ended up in Puerto Rico, where he died on October 1, 1975.

  17. Philadelphia Inquirer, “2 Gangsters Slain, Drowned in Jersey,” September 14, 1931.

  18. Milk’s identity is not revealed but likely is Frank Majuri.

  19. Criminal complaint, United States v. Charles Stango et al., (D.N.J. 2015, Mag. no. 15-3528), available online at http://bitterqueen.typepad.com/files/decavalcante-complaint.pdf.

  20. Limited, “Anthony Rotondo 2005 Cross Examination,” The Black Hand Forum, posted by B., May 7, 2016, http://theblackhand.club/forum/viewtopic.php?f=29&t=1824&hilit=rotondo+cross+examination (registration required).

  21. John P. Wilgus, La Cosa Nostra—Newark Division, Newark Field Office, Federal Bureau of Investigation, 1963.

  22. John Patrick Devlin, La Cosa Nostra, Newark, Federal Bureau of Investigation, 1967.

  Chapter 2

  Dry Years in Jersey

  The Jersey Shore is deceptive in size, seemingly insignificant, but measuring approximately 130 miles long. From Raritan Bay down to the tip of Cape May and around into the Delaware River, the shore is interspersed with inlets and coves, protected by long stretches of barrier islands and some of the most famous beaches in the United States both from an historical perspective (e.g., Atlantic City) and pop culture (e.g., Seaside Heights of Jersey Shore fame).

  Today beach communities dot the shoreline up and down the coast. But in the 1920s, though some areas were tourist attractions, there were large stretches of open shoreline on the Atlantic, as well as areas in the back bays with little habitation. These areas became well-used drop-off points for bootleggers running whiskey from offshore moored vessels transporting the liquid gold from Canada, Ireland, and the United Kingdom during Prohibition. Those intrepid seamen were collectively known as rumrunners, though rum was not the major liquor being smuggled into New Jersey (whiskey topping that list).

  The rum-running system was simple in scope but relied on a series of well-timed maneuvers and machinations to make it all work. Smuggling ships laden with illicit alcohol from Europe, Canada, and even the Caribbean, would drop anchor twelve miles offshore in international waters. From there speedboats would be dispatched to meet up with the ships, which in turn offloaded their shipments to the smaller, swifter boats. The boats, able to outrun the US Coast Guard’s fleet, would speed to shore where they would be met by trucks that would take the crates of booze to warehouses dotted across New Jersey, especially in Newark. The men recruited to unload the boats and drive the trucks to the warehouse were paid up to twenty dollars a night, which was a big paycheck for that time.

  The speedboats that the rumrunners used were a uniquely New Jersey creation. Dubbed “Jersey speed skiffs,” the boats, still raced and operated up and down the Jersey Shore today, were created in the early 1920s by Harold “Pappy” Seaman for racing out of his Long Branch base. The sleek wooden boats quickly gained favor among the bootlegging syndicates. The earliest boats were around fifteen feet long and powered by a twenty-two-

  horsepower engine, reaching speeds over twenty miles per hour. Modifications to that design increased the size of the boats and enhanced the top speed to over forty miles per hour.

  It was off the coast of New Jersey that one of the most celebrated rum-running captains would run into trouble, twice, that ultimately ended his legendary career. William McCoy, born in Jacksonville, Florida, was a boatyard owner who was approached to run some booze onshore from past the three-mile limit. Soon Bill McCoy was off and running with a large smuggling operation, first with his schooner, the ninety-foot Henry L. Marshall. He found success with a simple business model: deliver high-quality booze at a good price. “From dealing with bootleggers I found that they were mostly thieves and thugs and I concluded that a man running whisky on an honest basis and within the law could make money. I sold Scotch for twenty-two dollars a case and made four dollar profit on the case. Buyers always knew Scotch I sold was good and they would get a full case of twelve bottles. No short-changing or short cases.”[1]

  He called himself the King of the Rumrunners, and the press ate it up. One newspaper lavishly fawned over his appearance, noting, “His bearing is regal and assured. He has the manner of a man born tall, strong body and a muscular, good-humored face. His skin has been tanned to the color of leather by tropical sun and wind. His eyes are keen and intelligent. White wrinkles at the corners indicate that they have looked for a long time across wide waters, and laughed.”[2] Another called him a “Volsteadian hero” who was “handsome, glamorous, soft spoken, well educated,” and, essential for any self-respecting rumrunner, “perfectly manicured.”[3]

  But the Marshall ran into trouble on August 3, 1921, when the Seneca, a 240-foot-long coast guard cutter, intercepted the ship four miles off the coast of Atlantic City. Sailing under a British flag, the Marshall was towed back to New York Harbor after the coast guard found over fifteen hundred cases of liquor onboard. The ship was actually seized four miles off the coast, outside the three-mile maritime limit, but the coast guard insisted they had the right to seize the vessel because they had evidence of a conspiracy, likely referring to the fact they had spotted the Marshall being visited by smaller motorboats that then ran back to shore.

  After the Marshall incident, McCoy relocated to the island of Saint Pierre, near Newfoundland. He made good money on the island with his other ship, a 130-foot schooner, the Arethusa. But the allure and money to be made from smuggling to the Jersey Shore was a lot to pass up. McCoy rechristened the Arethusa the Tomoka and started smuggling back in US waters.

  In the early morning of November 25, 1923, the Tomoka was off the coast of Sea Bright, New Jersey, when, once again, McCoy came to square off against the US Coast Guard boat Seneca. After a chase of a few miles, the Seneca lobbed four shells into the water in front of the Tomoka. The smuggling vessel stopped, and the coast guard overtook it. When the Coasties went aboard and searched the ship,
they found McCoy down below, surrounded by four hundred cases of whisky. According to the coast guard, it was all that was left of a massive 4,200 case shipment the Tomoka was bringing up from the Bahamas. McCoy had sixty thousand dollars on him when the coast guard searched him. The Tomoka seizure set off a diplomatic row when both Great Britain and Canada demanded the release of several British and Canadian sailors on the vessel. The men of the Tomoka were charged with smuggling. McCoy went through a couple years of legal back-and-forth and ended up serving a short stint in jail. When he got out, in part due to increased competition, he withdrew from the rum-running game. But there were always thirsty people at the Jersey Shore.

  One of the first beach communities to benefit from the illicit liquor trade that developed in the wake of Prohibition was the resort town of Atlantic City. The city was run on tourist dollars. As far back as the late 1880s, over half a million people came to Atlantic City in the summer to walk up and down its famous boardwalk, at its height over four miles long. Luxury hotels were built to accommodate the swelling crowds, and tourist attractions of all kinds, from night clubs and family entertainment to the iconic Lucy the Elephant, still standing today as a symbol of Atlantic City’s past. The boom continued into the early part of the 1900s as Atlantic City became the go-to vacation spot for residents from across the southern tier of New Jersey, especially Philadelphia.

  Then there was the Steel Pier. Still a focal point of the boardwalk, back in the early 1900s the pier was home to an amusement park, movie theaters, shows, and the famous diving horse. Dubbed the “Showplace of the Nation,” the pier jutted over fifteen hundred feet into the ocean and featured hundreds of soon-to-be famous actors and musicians over the years. The pier was part of the Atlantic City appeal, the engine that drove the economy of the town—and one that was, at least on paper, billed as family fun. But there was a different attraction to Atlantic City for a certain segment of the tourist population. This attraction was based on vice, and Atlantic City offered it up in spades. From gambling to prostitution to drinking on Sunday (not allowed in other parts of the state), the city was a Vegas-style nonstop party for those seeking forbidden pleasures.

  And when Prohibition became the law of the land, what better place than Atlantic City to flout the law, setting itself up as the illicit-liquor capital of New Jersey? Many of the restaurants openly served liquor in defiance of the new law, while others sought to maximize the city’s geographic location to bring booze onshore and reap the rewards of smuggling. At the center of it all stood the undisputed boss of the city, who had one foot in the underworld and the other in the upperworld.

  The book and HBO TV show Boardwalk Empire fleshed out the story of Prohibition-era Atlantic City through the story of Enoch “Nucky” Johnson, a political powerhouse and gangland figure who ran the seashore resort town for decades (on the show, his name was changed to Nucky Thompson). The Hollywood images of a corrupt, very wet Atlantic City during Prohibition is pretty close to the truth. From July 1, 1922, to June 30, 1923, 114 people were arrested by the Atlantic City Police for violating the Volstead Act, not counting the numbers arrested by federal agents. And during Prohibition, “some 40 percent of all alcohol smuggled into the country was estimated to come through Atlantic City’s shoreline, coves, and beaches.”[4] And Nucky Johnson tried as hard as he could to make sure he got a dip into every barrel that went through his kingdom.

  Enoch “Nucky” Johnson was born in Smithville, New Jersey, just outside Atlantic City, in 1883. He had clear ambitions and goals since his youth to become something more than another face in the crowd. He was sworn in as sheriff on November 12, 1908, becoming the youngest sheriff in New Jersey, at age twenty-five. A lifelong career in law enforcement was not in the cards for young Enoch, though his father had served four terms as sheriff. Following his law-enforcement stint, Nucky became active in local and state politics. By 1924 he was a rising star in the Republican Party and was solidifying his hold on his political career as well as his foray into the new and lucrative world of rum-running.

  Eventually becoming city treasurer, Johnson had his finger on the pulse of all areas of the town and all of its power players. Through his influence with the local Republican Party, he was able to deflect suspicion of his activities with outsized efforts to ensure Republican control of the city as well as the state, and even into the White House. And his power extended to the smaller independent criminal operatives. Rivalries and violent flare-ups were rare in Atlantic City at this time. Johnson knew that a smooth operation with minimal violence was the best way to avoid exposure. “Fighting only gets you fighting,”[5] he once told a newspaper reporter.

  Johnson enjoyed the luxuries afforded by his new income stream. The tall, dapper-dressed power boss often walked up and down the boardwalk, always with a red carnation in the lapel of his bespoke suits, using a walking stick with a gold top. Nucky often rented the ninth floor of the newly constructed Ritz Carlton. He was also fond of women and remained a bachelor until later in life. Johnson’s appeal also came from his power over the hiring of city staff. He controlled everything such that if someone was looking to get a job with the city, they would have to see Nucky. He had control of the local government that in many ways was far greater than that of any other organized crime boss before or since.

  The underground liquor scene in Atlantic City was actually a boon to the city’s tourism, attracting revelers and vacationers all year round and helping jump-start the convention industry there. However, just a few years into Prohibition, Atlantic City’s reputation was already taking a hit from local activists who saw the growing influence of purveyors of vice in gaming the political system to their advantage. A 1924 newspaper article bemoaned, “We have open gambling in our city, rum-running flourishes and I have good reason to believe that there are men walking the streets with no visible means of support who are getting at on the proceeds from the red light districts.”[6] But to organized crime, the scene was paradise by the sea. “Atlantic City was always a good source of income, especially in the 1920s–1950s era.”[7] And Nucky Johnson was bullish on the city, defending it to anyone within earshot. “We have whisky, wine, women and slot machines. I won’t deny it and I won’t apologize for it. If the majority of the people didn’t want them they wouldn’t be profitable and they wouldn’t exist. The fact that they do exist proves to me that the people want them.”[8]

  Enoch Johnson’s political opponents were not kind to the power broker. In 1929, Senator Alexander Simpson of Hudson County railed against Johnson and his ties to then-governor, Morgan Larson. “Affidavits I have establish the fact that the Sodom and Gomorrah conditions in Atlantic City . . . have existed so long and so openly that everybody in authority should have known them.”[9] Atlantic City was viewed as such a friendly place for gangsters that a large meeting was called there in 1929, a meeting that has gained mythical status in Mafia lore.

  The storied Mafia meet-up at Cleveland’s Statler Hotel had taken place a year earlier, but the Atlantic City Conference—called a historic summit of organized-crime leaders—was attended by dozens of Italian and Jewish gangsters from across the country. From New York, Lucky Luciano, Frank Costello, Meyer Lansky, Dutch Schultz, and Owney Madden. Representing Newark were Waxey Gordon and Longy Zwillman. The meeting itself was covered by local papers, one of which, the Atlantic City Daily Press, ran stories of the gangsters in town, particularly Al Capone, who was at the apex of his notoriety and infamy. Johnny Torrio called the meeting, and the

  Chicago-centric focus, including the battles raging on the streets of the Windy City, was a main topic of conversation.

  The story went that the attendees were originally going to stay at the Breakers Hotel, but the hotel would not let the Jewish gangsters stay there. The gangsters then reached out to Enoch Johnson to help them out. Johnson quickly got a number of rooms booked at the Ambassador and Ritz hotels. It’s not clear if the implication in the story was that the men were not allowed to stay at the hotel
because they were gangsters or because they were Jewish. The latter excuse would seem out of character for the Breakers, known colloquially as the “Aristocrat of Kosher Hotels.”[10]

  The Atlantic City Conference is often called one of the most important mob meetings in history, the one that cemented the “modern” structure of traditional organized crime, moving it away from the older bosses’ old-school mentality into a new age where Jews, Italians, and Irish (though by this time Irish influence was waning) could work together as a syndicate to control the rackets. Other purported reasons for the meetings were the increased cooperation in the bootlegging rackets between Jewish mobsters and Italians, as well as discussion of combining forays into gambling. Or so the story has evolved over the years. The conference has taken on a mythological aspect that has overshadowed a lot of the contemporary accounts. “All the contemporaneous accounts of the Atlantic City Conference unanimously say that it involved Chicago gangsters only, with the limited goal of making peace between Capone and Moran. And then, at some point, the story transforms into one where dozens of rackets leaders from all over the country are summoned to a meeting that created the architecture for a national government of thugs.”[11]