Boardwalk Empire: The Birth, High Times, and Corruption of Atlantic City

by Nelson Johnson

  The first presentation of evidence secured by the Macksey Committee was to a grand jury sitting before Judge Thomas Trenchard, a product of the Commodore’s machine. After hearing the evidence presented, the grand jury deliberated and found no basis for an indictment. Governor Wilson was incensed and made a move to replace both Sheriff Johnson and Judge Trenchard. Wilson used a vacancy in the court system to appoint Samuel Kalish, an independently wealthy and respected trial attorney from Mercer County. Upon arriving in Atlantic County, Judge Kalish ordered the sheriff to draw a grand jury and to present the members in court to be admonished prior to commencing their duties. When the jurors appeared, Attorney General Wilson noticed that one of them was Thomas Bowman, who had been named in the Macksey Committee report. Bowman was one of the defendants to be charged with election fraud. Judge Kalish dismissed Bowman and the entire grand jury.

  Over Johnson’s protests Kalish utilized a little known statute to appoint a committee of “elisors” and empowered them to choose a grand jury of 23 men, comprised of Republicans, Democrats, Independents, and Prohibitionists. The Commodore was powerless to stop Attorney General Wilson. With Sheriff Johnson and his hand-picked grand jury out of the way, the criminal justice system proceeded.

  The new grand jury returned indictments naming more than 120 defendants, many of whom held positions in city government or the Republican organization. There was Kuehnle, Sheriff Enoch Johnson, Mayor George Carmany, City Councilman Henry Holte, City Clerk Louis Donnelly, Building Inspector Al Gillison, Health Inspector Theodore Voelme, Atlantic City Electric President Lyman Byers, and on and on. These indictments all dealt with election fraud and it was naïve for Governor Wilson to expect an Atlantic County jury to return guilty verdicts against officials of the Republican Party. Nearly everyone was acquitted.

  One of the defendants acquitted was Enoch Johnson. His trial helped launch him on his way to becoming Kuehnle’s successor. Represented by long-time friend and political attorney Emerson Richards, Johnson took the stand in his own defense and arrogantly defied Attorney General Wilson. He referred to the presiding judge by his first name and addressed the jurors directly, many of whom were supporters of the Republican machine. Neither Johnson nor anyone else of importance in Kuehnle’s organization was convicted of election fraud.

  Simultaneous with the investigation into election fraud was an inquiry of official corruption in Atlantic City’s government. It was no secret that Kuehnle and his lieutenants had been personally benefiting from municipal contracts. The requirement of public employees to pay a portion of their salary to the Republican Party and kickbacks on city contracts were common knowledge.

  In July 1911, newspaperman Harvey Thomas arranged a meeting between Attorney General Wilson and private detective William J. Burns. Long before criminal lawyers would debate the concept of entrapment, Burns hit upon an idea to smoke out Atlantic City’s elected officials, which the attorney general endorsed. Burns had one of his operatives, Frank Smiley, pose as “Mr. Franklin,” a successful New York City contractor. Mr. Franklin rented an elaborate suite of rooms at one of the fancy Boardwalk hotels and made a splash around town as a big spender. Mr. Franklin got the ear of the city councilmen and proposed to each of them that what the resort needed was a concrete Boardwalk. He persuaded five council members to adopt an ordinance appropriating $1,000,000 for the project and paid each of them $500 for their vote. The entire transaction with each council member was recorded by the newly invented dictograph. When confronted with the stenographic transcript of their conversations with Mr. Franklin, each of the councilmen confessed.

  The other area scrutinized was the Commodore’s personal business interests. In addition to the Atlantic City Brewery, Kuehnle was a shareholder in the United Paving Company. It was one of many firms Kuehnle had formed over the years to obtain government contracts. United Paving was successful from its inception and in a short time had contracts totaling $600,000. It was successful on every municipal project it competed for. There might have been lower bidders, but they were never able to comply with the bid specifications, so United Paving got the jobs.

  In 1909, the city council let out for bid a contract to install new timber water mains from the mainland to Absecon Island. It was known as the Woodstave Project. Then, as now, Atlantic City received its drinking water from artesian wells on the mainland seven miles over the meadows. For years, the water had been pumped into the city in small pipes. To accommodate Atlantic City’s growth, it was necessary to install one large water main. United Paving hadn’t bid on the project because Kuehnle was a member of the Water Commission and there was an obvious conflict of interest. Instead, a dummy bidder, Frank S. Lockwood, a clerk in United Paving, was awarded the contract at a bid price of $224,000. On the same day the bid was awarded Lockwood assigned his contract rights to a firm called Cherry and Lockwood, Cherry being William I. Cherry, the Commodore’s partner in United Paving. The Woodstave Project only partially involved paving, but Kuehnle and Cherry wanted the entire contract. Their greed caused the contract price to increase beyond $300,000 with all of the extras being approved by Kuehnle as chairman of the Water Commission. The commission’s records showed that of the 15 vouchers submitted for payment, 12 had been personally approved by Kuehnle.

  This was all Attorney General Wilson needed. The jury had no choice but to return a guilty verdict. The Commodore’s conviction and the success at exposing the widespread corruption in the resort made a valuable trophy for Woodrow Wilson on his march to the White House.

  The Commodore appealed his conviction and by the time the final ruling came down upholding the verdict, Woodrow Wilson had gone on to become president. Kuehnle was sentenced to a year of hard labor and $1,000 fine. His sentence began in December 1913 and before going to jail, he made arrangements for Christmas gifts of food and clothing to be given to Atlantic City’s poor. Surrogate Emmanual Shaner and Louis Donnelly saw to it that several thousand gifts were given out in the Northside.

  The Commodore served his time without complaint. Upon his release from jail, he went to Bermuda for a lengthy vacation and then for an extended visit to Germany, his parents’ homeland. Nearly a year later he returned to the resort tanned and rested, to a warm but quiet reception from his many friends. He soon learned things had changed during his absence. A new leader, Enoch “Nucky” Johnson, had emerged as the boss of Atlantic City’s Republican Party. The Commodore had known Nucky as Smith Johnson’s son, and after the elder Johnson’s death, the two became close. Kuehnle confided in him as he had his father. Nucky was seen by many as the Commodore’s protégé and with his acquittal at the election fraud trial, he was the heir apparent when Kuehnle went off to jail.

  After the Commodore’s return, he and Nucky had several skirmishes, but there was no doubt about who was in control. Finally, they reached an accommodation with Johnson agreeing to support the Commodore for city commissioner. Kuehnle was elected in 1920 and re-elected each time his four-year term ended, until his death in 1934. A tribute to his popularity was the naming of a local street in his honor. Kuehnle had the undying affection of the public, but Nucky Johnson had the power, and he used it in a way that made the Commodore look like a choirboy.

  5

  The Golden Age of Nucky

  Joe Hamilton was the back-up driver. Louie Kessel didn’t leave town often but when he did, Joe was first choice to drive the boss around. This night the stops were a baseball game, a wake, and a Fourth Ward Republican Club meeting, followed by dinner at Babette’s.

  A few innings of the ball game was enough and he was ready to leave. When Joe returned with the limousine there was a young woman with the boss. Joe got out to open the door and was told to drive out of town to Absecon before heading to the wake. The rest is better told by Hamilton. “There I am driving along talking to Mr. Johnson with a pretty little tart seated next to him. The next thing I knew she’s got her head in his lap and Mr. Johnson’s grinnin’ from ear to ear.” The boss never miss
ed a chance to mix pleasure with business.

  For nearly 30 years, Enoch “Nucky” Johnson lived the life of a decadent monarch, with the power to satisfy his every want. Tall (6 feet 4 inches), trim, and broad-shouldered, Nucky Johnson was a ruggedly handsome man with large, powerful hands, a glistening bald head, a devilish grin, friendly gray eyes, and a booming voice. In his prime, he strode the Boardwalk in evening clothes complete with spats, patent leather shoes, a walking stick, and a red carnation in his lapel. Nucky rode around town in a chauffeur-driven, powder blue Rolls Royce limousine, maintained several residences, hosted lavish parties for hundreds of guests, used the local police as his private gendarmes, had a retinue of servants to satisfy his every want, and an untaxed income of more than $500,000 per year. His antics were reported widely and at the height of his reign he was a national phenomenon, hailed as “the Czar of the Ritz.” Despite his notoriety, Johnson was a product of Atlantic City who couldn’t have flourished anywhere else.

  Enoch Lewis Johnson was born on January 20, 1883, in Smithville, a small bayside farming village several miles north of Atlantic City. The son of Kuehnle ally Sheriff Smith Johnson, Nucky spent his childhood moving between Atlantic City and Mays Landing according to his father’s rotation as sheriff. During the years as sheriff, Johnson and his family lived in the sheriff’s residence next to the county jail. The years as undersheriff, the Johnsons lived in a rambling frame home in the resort so the sheriff and his wife could enjoy the social life of a booming vacation center.

  Nucky’s parents, Smith and Virginia Johnson, had used politics to escape the backbreaking work of farming. Election to sheriff was the ticket to an easy life and status in the growing resort. Smith Johnson was a broad-chested bear of a man with a thick black mustache. Standing six-foot-two, weighing 250 pounds, and having paws for hands, he had the strength to lift a wagon. “No one ever gave Sheriff Johnson a hard time.” Virginia was a tall, slender, beautiful woman with long, auburn hair, and hands with fingers meant to play the piano. She was always exquisitely dressed and was “the kind of woman that comes to mind when you think of an elegant Victorian lady.” Virginia was every bit the politician in her own right. “She was big on charity, organizing fundraisers and whatnot, for the poor people, but she always made sure they knew the help came from the Republican Party.”

  Through his parents, Nucky was immersed in politics long before he was old enough to vote. As a child and a young man, Nucky watched his father make a plaything of government. The law forbidding the re-election of a sheriff was supposed to prevent an individual from accumulating too much power. But the cozy relationship between Smith Johnson and Sam Kirby made a mockery of the reelection ban contained in the state constitution. The sheriff’s employees were handpicked solely on the basis of patronage and the fees his office collected were reviewed by no one. Smith Johnson’s tactics and the success he attained taught his son early on that government and the electoral process were no more than a game to be mastered for personal power. Nucky also learned that in Atlantic City, a politician would only have power so long as he was prepared to bend the law when needed to help the resort’s economy. Smith Johnson and Louis Kuehnle were close friends and the sheriff’s favorite hangout was “the Commodore’s” hotel. There were many evenings when, while still a boy, Nucky sat quietly next to his father at the Corner and listened to the stories and strategies of Kuehnle and his cohorts. Kuehnle’s hotel was the hub of Republican politics in Atlantic City and the place where important political decisions were made. Nucky may not have understood all he heard, but he was there, and while still in his teens began to learn the rules of the game. By age 19, Johnson made his first political speech, and as soon as he was old enough to vote at age 21, his father appointed him undersheriff. He completed high school, attended a year at a teacher’s college, and put in a stint at reading law in the office of a local attorney, but it was politics he wanted.

  Nucky also wanted the hand of a tall, slender, graceful girl with whom he fell in love at first sight as a teenager. Beautiful and soft-spoken, “Mabel Jeffries was the daughter of the Postmaster in Mays Landing and they knew each other from childhood—Nucky just adored her.”

  Nucky and Mabel lived in an era when teenage sweethearts married and remained faithful to one another until death. It was Mabel’s enrollment at the Trenton Normal School (a teaching college for girls; now the College of New Jersey) that had prompted Nucky to go to college himself. Their schools were near one another and they met each day after class at a campus ice cream parlor where they made plans for their future together. A year of college—away from Atlantic City—was all Nucky could handle. They agreed he should return home and begin his career in politics. Mabel stayed on at school and earned her teaching certificate. After her graduation in June 1906, they were married and moved into an apartment in Atlantic City. By the time of his marriage, Nucky had replaced Sam Kirby as his father’s undersheriff. At the next election in 1908, Nucky was elected to sheriff, with his father as undersheriff, at the age of 25, making him the youngest person in New Jersey to hold the post. Like many other locals of their social standing, Nucky and Mabel speculated in the booming Atlantic City real estate market and did well for themselves. They were on their way to a comfortable life together until tragedy destroyed their plans.

  Mabel had always been a fragile person, but in the winter of 1913 she came down with a cough she couldn’t shake. At Nucky’s insistence, she went to a local physician who diagnosed her illness—tuberculosis. The disease was fairly common in the resort, but only the strong or wealthy survived it. On the advice of Johnson’s family doctor, he traveled with Mabel to a sanitarium in Colorado. Despite his duties as Atlantic City’s new boss, he was prepared to stay until she was well. But it was no use. Three weeks later, Nucky rode home in a railway baggage car, seated next to Mabel’s coffin. At the age of 28, she was gone. “My father said that Nucky mourned Mabel for months. Her death, like it was, broke his heart. After she was gone, he was a changed man.”

  With Mabel’s death, politics became his life. While Nucky’s term as sheriff was marked by his indictment for election fraud, his acquittal made him a local hero and generated support among the resort’s politicians. Instead of smashing the Commodore’s machine, Woodrow Wilson helped to make room for a new boss. Rather than continuing in the sheriff’s office, Nucky went in another direction—control of the organization. With Kuehnle’s blessing and the help of his father, Nucky became secretary to the Republican County Committee. It didn’t have a salary, but it was more powerful than being chairman. It was the secretary who called meetings, established the agenda, and made the final call on who was eligible to participate in the organization.

  He made his next move in 1913, shortly after Mabel’s death. Again with his father’s backing, Nucky was appointed county treasurer, one of the offices designated by Kuehnle for funneling graft payments on public contracts. The treasurer’s office gave him access to money and, in turn, power over the organization and the selection of candidates. The position paid the same salary as sheriff but was easier to manage. An interesting note to Nucky’s selection as treasurer is the fact that there was a minority faction who opposed him. They demanded, as a condition to his assuming this new position, that Nucky be compelled to reconcile the sheriff’s account. He had mishandled the funds received by his office and his critics knew he owed thousands of dollars to the county for overcharges. Rather than consent to an accounting, Nucky proposed a single lump sum payment of $10,000, which was paid in cash four days later.

  County treasurer was the only political position Nucky held for the next 30 years. As with the Commodore while he was boss, Nucky chose not to seek elected office. He believed that a boss should never be a candidate. Nucky had learned much from Kuehnle and he believed, “Running for election was beneath a real boss.”

  Crucial to his power and the control of the Republican organization, he learned how to manipulate Atlantic City’s Black population.
He continued the Commodore’s private welfare system, but the assistance he gave Blacks went beyond what Kuehnle had done; come the winter he was their savior. Long stretches of unemployment in the off-season could be devastating. Johnson saw to it that the Northside had food, clothing, coal, and medical care. “If your kid needed a winter coat, all you had to do was ask—maybe it wouldn’t fit but it was warm. If the grocer cut off your credit, the ward leader told you where to shop on the party’s tab. The same was true if someone needed a doctor or a prescription filled.” In return, he was loved by the Black community and looked on as a “White god.” Nucky Johnson “owned” the Black vote and when a large turnout was needed to produce the right election results, they never failed him.

  Johnson understood the need for controlling the flow of money to the candidates. With a stranglehold on the money there was no fear of reformers getting into office. To remain boss, he needed an uninterrupted flow of cash. He transformed the system of bribes that existed at the time. Under the Commodore, bribes had been paid in line with a “gentleman’s agreement” between the Republican Party and the vice industry. Under Nucky, protection money paid by Atlantic City’s racketeers became a major source of revenue for the business of politics. “With Nucky, the payments weren’t voluntary. You paid or he shut you down.”

  The gambling rooms, whorehouses, and illegal saloons were vital to Nucky and his town. Without a flourishing vice industry, Atlantic City would lose an important competitive edge for attracting visitors, and the local Republican Party would lose the money needed to continue its dominance. An important lesson Nucky learned through witnessing Kuehnle’s destruction at the hands of Woodrow Wilson also required large amounts of cash. Nucky knew he’d never be safe remaining a local boss. He had to become a force statewide if he and the resort were to avoid future attacks from Trenton. His opportunity came in 1916.