Monday, August 25, 2014

1964 Democratic National Convention - Atlantic City N.J.

The 1964 Democratic National Convention - A Half-Century Later Atlantic City Finds Itself in a Similar Situation 

– By William Kelly

The 1964 Democratic National Convention in Atlantic City – 50 Years Ago, that took place from August 24-27th, was an historic watershed event for the island resort – a crossroads that led to the revitalization of the city – and it could be a cautionary tale as Atlantic City reaches another, similar crossroads, where it must once again reinvent itself.

That such a convention could be held on the boardwalk at all was the vision of Nucky Johnson, who was a driving force behind the construction of the Convention Hall – now Boardwalk Hall – which opened in 1929, the same year that he was the host for the first major meeting of mob bosses from around the country.

Some of them were business partners with Joe Kennedy, Sr., who held major ownership interests in major Canadian and European whiskey distillers, and didn’t mind doing business with the bootleggers during prohibition. Kennedy also held hidden interest in the Cal-Neva Lodge that startled the border between California and Nevada, with a casino on the Nevada side, which was purchased by Giancana and Sinatra, who brought in Atlantic City’s Skinny D’Amato as the manager.

In 1960 Joe Kennedy touched base once again with Sam Giancana, the mob boss who controlled the rackets in Chicago, Las Vegas and California, and got him to support his son Jack’s 1960 bid to be elected president of the United States.

Giancana’s good friends Frank Sinatra and Skinny D’Amato were quick to oblige, Sinatra contributing the campaign theme song “High Hopes,” and he introduced JFK to Judith Campbell Extner, who served as a mistress and courier between Kennedy and Giancana.

Skinny D’Amato and Camden attorney Angelo Malandra took suitcases full of cash to West Virginia that was liberally distributed to Skinny’s friends in the West Virginia Sheriff’s Association, who counted the votes and often visited his 500 Club when they had their annual convention in Atlantic City.

One of Kennedy’s last hurdles to being nominated as the Democratic candidate at the 1960 Convention in Los Angeles was the West Virginia primary, where the Irish Catholic Kennedy was up against Hubert Humphrey, a protestant, so that became the major issue of the primary, which Kennedy won and dispelling that as an issue.

A couple of major decisions were made at the 1960 Democratic National Convention in Los Angeles, including the addition of Lyndon Baines Johnson to the ticket as the Vice Presidential candidate, said to be done on the advice of Joe Kennedy, and naming Atlantic City as the site of the 1964 Democratic Convention, which some said was a payback to D’Amato and Sinatra for their support during the primaries.
Actually H. Hap Farley was the primary mover behind bringing the 1964 Democratic Convention to Atlantic City. As the political boss who took over after Nucky Johnson went to prison, Farley is best known for having the Atlantic City Expressway built, but he also lobbied extensively to bring both the Republican and Democratic Conventions to the boardwalk, but succeeded, despite being a staunch Republican, of only enticing the Democrats.

After winning the nomination and then the election, President Kennedy asked Sinatra to arrange for the entertainment for the Inaugural Balls, which he did, and Sinatra was looking forward to organizing a similar party for Kennedy in Atlantic City when Kennedy would be renominated for his second term at the 1964 Convention.

But then things went terribly wrong.

Kennedy appointed his younger brother Robert F. Kennedy as Attorney General and RFK targeted the mob bosses as part of a war against organized crime, and he singled out Sam Giancana, New Orleans don Carlos Marcello and Santo Traficante, of Tampa, Florida, despite their assistance in getting JFK elected and working closely with the CIA in trying to assassinate Cuban dictator Fidel Castro.

When J. Edgar Hover, the head of the FBI told RFK the attorney general that his brother the president was receiving phone calls and visits at the White House from Judy Campbell Extner, the mob moll who was also in bed with both Sinatra and Giancana, the president cut off his contacts with Giancana and began to distance himself from both Extner and Sinatra.

Then, rather than Castro being assassinated, JFK was shot and killed while riding in an open car through the streets of Dallas, and instead of JFK being renominated for a second term, LBJ was the president who was nominated to be the Democratic candidate at the 1964 convention on the boardwalk in Atlantic City.

After the resolution of who would represent the racially divided Mississippi delegation, the three biggest questions going into Atlantic City in August 1964 were who would be the Vice Presidential nominee, what was the still unreleased Warren Report on the assassination of President Kennedy going to say, and what was Robert Kennedy going to do?

No one knew who the Vice Presidential nominee would be until LBJ invited liberal Minnesota Senator Hubert Humphrey to accompany him on the flight to Atlantic City. Humphrey, who Kennedy defeated in the West Virginia primary, had presidential ambitions himself, but would do LBJ’s bidding, and sold his soul to resolve the Mississippi issue.

As for the Warren Commission Report, LBJ knew what was ready to go to press, and that it would conclude that JFK was killed by Lee Harvey Oswald, a deranged loner, and there was no conspiracy, so that only left one big question – what was RFK going to do?

LBJ later said that from the moment JFK was murdered, he felt that RFK didn’t think he deserved to be president, and Johnson considered the possibility that RFK would try to lead a revolt at the Convention and attempt to hijack the nomination from him. If the convention atmosphere presented the opportunity, RFK’s name could have been introduced, and if LBJ didn’t win on the first ballet, anything could happen.

In order to avert this possibility, President Johnson took some unprecedented steps. As Kennedy family historian Arthur Schlesinger wrote, “The tribute to the fallen President was originally scheduled for Tuesday night. Johnson had it moved back to Thursday, by which time the nomination would be completed. He took other precautions, the most extraordinary of which was to send Cartha DeLoach and and FBI team of thirty snoops and wire tappers to Atlantic City. The ostensible purpose was to gather intelligence ‘concerning matters of strife, violence, etc. The real purpose, according to William Sullivan of the FBI, was to gather political information useful to President Johnson, particularly bottling up Robert Kennedy – that is reporting on the activities of Robert Kennedy.”

LBJ also thought that Robert Kennedy would try to wire tap his boardwalk hotel room, so he secretly moved to a more secure location – the nearby Margate beach house of Carroll Rosenbloom, the owner of the Baltimore Colts football team.

As RFK joined the other dignitaries on stage, Jackie Kennedy handed him a note.

As Schlesinger relates, “Finally Senator Henry Jackson, who was presiding, motioned him (RFK) to the rostrum. When Scoop introduced him, it hit, I mean it really hit, it just went on and on. I stood on the floor in the midst of the thunderous ovation. I had never seen anything like it. Ordinarily an organ in the background controls the pandemonium of a convention. This time they stopped the organ after a moment or so. But the demonstration roared on, reaching a new intensity every time that Robert Kennedy, standing with a wistful half-smile on his face, tried to bring it to an end. As Kennedy once more raised his hand to still the uproar, Jackson whispered to him, ‘Let it go on, just let them do it Bob, let them get it out of their system.’ He repressed his tears. Many of the audience did not. He seemed slight, almost frail, as the crowd screamed itself hoarse. It went on for twenty-two minutes. Finally he began to speak. At the end, the quotation: ‘When he shall die, take him and cut him out in little stars, and he will make the face of heaven so fine, that all the world will be in love with night, and pay no worship to the garish sun.’”

These words, from Romeo and Juliet, were handed to him by Jackie, and preceded a short film about the life of John F. Kennedy, who would have certainly been renominated for a second term if fate and destiny did not intervene.

To commemorate the occasion, the city of Atlantic City named the plaza in front of the hall “Kennedy Plaza,” and a bust of JFK by renown sculpture Evangelos Frudakis was unveiled, a bust that is now partially hidden behind a stage where summer concerts are held.

Though young people today know Kennedy Plaza as the scene of free concerts and a nightly lightshow, the statute that stands there remains the last vestige of another era and a reminder of what might have been if Kennedy had lived to serve a second term.


William Kelly is a freelance writer and regional historian from Browns Mills, N.J. He can be reached at Billkelly3@gmail.com

Tuesday, February 26, 2013

George Hamid, Jr. RIP





George A. Hamid Jr., former owner of Steel Pier in Atlantic City
February 25, 2013|Kristin E. Holmes, Inquirer Staff Writer


George A. Hamid Jr., 94, a former owner of the Steel Pier in Atlantic City who with his family brought stars such as Frank Sinatra and the Beatles to the Jersey Shore, died of pulmonary failure Saturday, Feb. 23, at Shore Memorial Hospital in Somers Point.

Mr. Hamid and his father, George Sr., operated the Steel Pier for 30 years, building a family-entertainment venue that blended circus acts, amusement-park rides, and concerts.
Singers including Diana Ross, and unusual acts like the high-diving horse helped turn the pier into a main attraction for Atlantic City vacationers.
Mr. Hamid's major responsibility was booking the acts.

"The father was an old-school tough negotiator, and junior handled himself differently," said Ed Hurst, who hosted Summertime on the Pier, a music-and-dance show televised from the famous venue. "He was modern-day and Ivy League."

Born in Jersey City, Mr. Hamid attended the Kew-Forest School in Forest Hills, N.Y., and earned a bachelor's degree in economics at Princeton University. He studied at the Wharton School of the University of Pennsylvania but dropped out to enlist in the Navy.
He served as a lieutenant commander in the South Pacific. When the war ended, he returned to New Jersey, married Patricia Reilly Monahan, and joined the family business.
Mr. Hamid's father, a former circus performer, bought the Steel Pier in 1945, but Mr. Hamid made his mark by booking acts that appealed to younger generations.

He booked Ricky Nelson in the late 1950s, bringing in a then-record crowd of more than 44,000 in one day. But that booking was preceded by what Mr. Hamid later called an error in judgment.

He had the chance to book Elvis Presley but didn't.

"I said, 'They'll go for a guy named Frank, a guy named Perry, a guy named Pat, but they'll never go for a guy named Elvis,' " Mr. Hamid said in a 2004 interview.

He went on to book other teen heartthrobs, including Bobby Rydell and Frankie Avalon.
In 1964, Mr. Hamid brought the Beatles to what is now Boardwalk Hall and sneaked them out of the arena by loading the British band into a laundry truck while the crowd stayed standing for a strategically timed playing of the National Anthem.

Mr. Hamid's father died in 1971, and the family sold the Steel Pier to a group of businessmen, but Mr. Hamid continued managing the venue until 1975.

"Atlantic City wasn't doing that great as a city, and business kept declining," Mr. Hamid's son James said. "It was time to let go."

Mr. Hamid managed the family's other businesses, including a traveling circus and the New Jersey State Fair. He also worked as a business manager for boxing champion Ernie Terrell, and was a co-owner of the Miami Dolphins in the 1960s.

He wrote several books about his father, who was born in Lebanon and joined the Buffalo Bill show as an acrobat while the show toured France. George Hamid Sr. worked as Annie Oakley's helper, Mr. Hamid said in a 2004 interview.

Patricia Hamid died in 2006. Mr. Hamid retired shortly after her death and moved from an apartment in Northfield to the Meadowview Nursing Home in Northfield in 2007.

Their son Herbert died in 1975.

In addition to son James, Mr. Hamid is survived by sons George 3d and Timothy; daughter Elizabeth Roberts; seven grandchildren; and nine great-grandchildren.

Friends may call at 2:30 p.m. April 1 at the Jeffries & Keates Funeral Home, Tilton Road and Infield Avenue, Northfield, N.J. 08255. Memorial services begin at 3 p.m.

Memorial donations may be made to the John Davis 3d Memorial Scholarship Fund, and mailed to the funeral home.

George Hamid Jr. dies; promoter owned Steel Pier

NORTHFIELD — Family members say the longtime owner of Atlantic City’s iconic Steel Pier has died.

The Press of Atlantic City reports George Hamid Jr. died Saturday morning at a South Jersey hospital. He was 94.

Besides owning the Steel Pier, relatives say Mr. Hamid was a well-known entertainment promoter who was involved in numerous business ventures over the years.

He also operated a circus, ran the New Jersey State Fair and was a part-owner of the Miami Dolphins football team during the early 1960s.

A Princeton University graduate, Mr. Hamid also served in the Navy during World War II.

Mr. Hamid’s father bought the pier in 1945. George Hamid Jr. wrote a biography of his father titled “The Acrobat: A Showman's Topsy-Turvy World . . . from Buffalo Bill to the Beatles.”

The younger Hamid was among the first promoters to realize there was big money in rock music.

While many other towns fought the spread of the new, youth-oriented music in the 1950s, Mr. Hamid embraced it, booking virtually all the big acts of the time, save for Elvis Presley.

The single-day attendance record, according to Mr. Hamid, was established on Labor Day, 1958, when Ricky Nelson drew 44,211 people.

“There was nothing in the history of the world like Steel Pier in its heyday,” Mr. Hamid said in 1998, the centennial of the attraction.

Mr. Hamid also put on the Garden State Fair. The operation, one of several with the right to the name “New Jersey State Fair,” had nearly as many financial problems as the Garden State Park racetrack, where the event ran beginning in 1986.

But the show was widely attended.

In 1995, he moved the fair to the Expo Center in Pennsauken, before turning it over to new management.


NORTHFIELD, N.J. (AP) - Family members say the longtime owner of Atlantic City's iconic Steel Pier has died.


The Press of Atlantic City (http://bit.ly/ZsiMhX) reports George Hamid Jr. died Saturday morning at a southern New Jersey hospital. He was 94.

Besides owning the Steel Pier, relatives say Hamid was a well-known entertainment promoter who was involved in numerous business ventures over the years. He also operated a circus, ran the New Jersey State Fair and was a part-owner of the Miami Dolphins football team during the early 1960s.

A Princeton University graduate, Hamid also served in the Navy during World War II.
Information from: The Press of Atlantic City (N.J.), http://www.pressofatlanticcity.com
Copyright 2013 The Associated Press. All rights reserved. This material may not be published, broadcast, rewritten or redistributed.

Friday, January 18, 2013

My Great Discovery Channel Adventure



                                       JFK Bust at Kennedy Plaza, Atlantic City Boardwalk
                                       ACConsig: JFK Bust at Boardwalk Hall Atlantic City


My Great Discovery Channel Adventure – Bill Kelly

Early Summer 2012

They got to me through the internet.

It was a mid-level producer for a Hollywood film company calling from California who was subcontracted to the Discovery channel to make a documentary film on the history of booze in America. To be hosted by Mike Rowe, best known for his popular TV series “Dirty Work,” in which he takes on different, difficult jobs, it would be aired on the Discovery channel in the fall.

They were coming to film in Atlantic City and needed a “Kennedy-Mob specialist” to tie in Joe Kennedy and the mobsters during prohibition and how they helped get JFK elected president.

They had searched the internet and came across my [http://jfkcountercoup.blogspot.com/] on the assassination and read an article I had done on Al Capone in Atlantic City in the Boardwalk Journal [http://boardwalkjournal.files.wordpress.com/2012/08/boardwlkjournal_oct2010.pdf,
and said I fit the bill.

Did I have any talking head video clips, he wanted to know? And I just happened to have the American Legion video on the Repatriation of Richard Somers and the Intrepid crew from Tripoli, and sent him the link. [http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=oNk8ka8wySU ]

Shortly thereafter I got a call from a young women asking if I could be interviewed by Mike Lowe at Kennedy Plaza on the Atlantic City Boardwalk?

Well, I was now living an hour’s drive away, I was out of steady work, had just sold my car, and was in the middle of some unfinished dental work, but they offered me $100 if I showed up and go on camera to talk about the Kennedys and the mob. I countered $150 and a case of beer, and they agreed.

So I got my friend Robert to give me a ride, and got there at the appointed time – twelve noon, and then received a cell phone call from a women who said they were running late but would be there soon.

Kennedy Plaza is different now than when I was last there. In front of the old Convention Hall, now called Boardwalk Hall, Kennedy Plaza is a place where the boardwalk expands considerably from its normal street-wide length, and features a very accurate bust of JFK.  But the area is now cluttered with other mini-monuments and tributes to less renown politicians, and there’s a large stage where free outdoor music concerts are held during the summer.

I sat on the edge of the stage with Robert, my driver and bodyguard who had once worked as a trainer and sparing partner for Mohammed Ali. He agreed to give me a ride for $20, lunch and all the beer he could drink. Robert is def, but not dumb. He usually wears a custom tee-shirt that features one of a dozen photos he has of him and Ali.

Sitting there looking at old Convention Hall, an attractive young women approaches, cell phone in hand, and as she greets me a van pulls up. She explains Mike Rowe will be along shortly, gets me to sign a release and hands me a copy of one page of the script, the part that the “Kennedy expert” talks about old Joe Kennedy’s bootlegging days and his mob connections.

While I’m reading it, another van pulls up and before long there’s a half-dozen guys putting up a couple of tents and three cameramen setting up their equipment. 

The young women, an assistant producer, said they had a wonderful time in Atlantic City, as this was their last day. They were staying at the Madison, an old, non-casino hotel just off the Boardwalk, and had just completed a shoot at the Knife & Fork, one of the few, old classic restaurants left from the Nucky Johnson “Boardwalk Empire” days.

I read the script – my part is only half a page – and gives general directions, not exact words to say. It has the “Kennedy Expert” describe Old Joe Kennedy’s bootlegging days and how he got the mobsters to help get his son elected, though it is careful to note that there’s no “real evidence” of the mob ties. 

While tents are going up and cameramen are positioning themselves and checking light meters, Mike Rowe comes bee-bopping down the boardwalk, dressed super casual and with a light air about him. He shakes my hand and sits down on the edge of the stage next to me.

While cameramen gage their light meters and prepare their angles, Rowe make small talk for awhile – he’s from Baltimore – and made it big with his hit cable TV show – “Dirty Jobs,” and was recruited to be the host and narrator for this semi-serious documentary they area calling “How Booze Built America,” a light hearted look at the history of the booze industry in the USA.

My part was about Old Joe Kennedy, his bootlegging days and his son President JFK.

The clipboard snaps, Lights, Camera, Action, Mike Rowe opens by saying, “I’m sitting in Kennedy Plaza on the Atlantic City Boardwalk with Billy Kelly, who invited me here to tell me about it.”

I say something like, “Well it’s called Kennedy plaza, named in honor of President John F. Kennedy because this was to be the site of his grand re-nomination as president – but of course that didn’t happen because he was killed in Dallas, and it was LBJ who was given the nomination.”

I forget exactly how it went after that, but this is the essence of what I said or wanted to say:

The 1964 Democratic National Convention was supposed to be the scene of the re-nomination of President Kennedy, a big party that would include Frank Sinatra, as he had organized the President’s 1960 inaugural party in Washington. It would be the place from where the president would position himself for four more years of power. But instead, because JFK was murdered in Dallas, the nomination was given to President Johnson. It was a much less festive occasion that included RFK’s moving tribute to his brother, the showing of a film tribute to the fallen president, the unveiling of this stature of JFK and the renaming of this area as JFK Plaza.




Convention Hall, now called Boardwalk Hall, was constructed in 1929 by Nucky Johnson, who has been made famous by the HBO TV series Boardwalk Empire, and who in April of 1929, hosted a convention of mob bosses from around the country.

It was at this meeting, shortly after the St. Valentine’s Day massacre that the mob bosses decided to put an end to violence by establishing a national commission to settle disputes. They also divided the nation into territories and decided to get into gambling in a big way after the end of Prohibition.

Atlantic City was selected to host the 1964 Convention because of Hap Farley, the Republican political boss who succeeded Nucky Johnson, and Skinny D’Amato, Frank Sinatra’s friend and owner of the 500 Club, who helped JFK win the critical West Virginia primary.

Frank Sinatra played a pivotal role in getting the gangster underworld to support Kennedy for president, but so did his father, Joe Kennedy, Sr., who knew many of the mob bosses from prohibition days.

Old Joe Kennedy, Sr. wasn’t a bootlegger, he owned the liquor companies that made the booze, primarily top shelf Canadian and Scotch whiskey and sold it to whoever wanted to buy it, with the bootleggers being among his biggest customers.

Old Joe was into a lot of things, not just booze, - he also produced films in Hollywood and made a lot of money in stocks – President Roosevelt appointed him to head the Security and Exchange Commission before he became Roosevelt’s ambassador to the Court of St. James in England.

With his son was running for President, Joe Kennedy tapped into his connections with his old bootlegger associates, especially Sam Giancana, who is known to have helped JFK win Chicago and Illinois over Nixon, but less known is the role played by the mobsters in the West Virginia primary, which Kennedy had to win in order to get the party’s nomination.

Giancana and Joe Kennedy were reported to be partners in the Cal-Neva Lodge and casino in Nevada, where Giancana had hired Skinny D’Amato to be the manager. D’Amato owned the 500 Club in Atlantic City, where Jerry Lewis and Dean Martin got their start and many other stars performed in the pre-casino era, including Sinatra and the Rat Pack. 

When it became apparent that the West Virginia primary was critical for Kennedy to win the nomination, they pulled out all the stops and according to Sy Hersh in his book “The Dark Side of Camelot,” D’Amato was sent there with a suitcase full of cash that he distributed liberally to the various West Virginia County Sheriffs, who he knew from their yearly convention in Atlantic City.

So after Kennedy won the West Virginia primary, got the nomination and won the election by only a few hundred thousand votes, Sinatra played a major role in the inaugural parties, and Atlantic City was selected to be the site of the 1964 Democratic Convention.

By 1964 however, everything had fallen apart. JFK had appointed his brother RFK attorney general, and he went after the mob even though the President shared a women with Giancana, who was also involved in the CIA plots to kill Castro. But instead of Castro, it was Kennedy who was killed and it was LBJ who came to Atlantic City as President to be nominated at the Democratic Convention.

When he was here, LBJ was officially registered at a boardwalk hotel, but he actually stayed downbeach at the Margate home of Carroll Rosenbloom, the owner of the Baltimore Colts football team. Rosenbloom was a big gambler and had purchased Meyer Lansky’s interest in Havana’s Hotel Nacional Casino with Mike McLaney, one of JFK’s Palm Beach, Florida neighbors and golf partners. A month later Castro came to power and closed the casinos, so Rosenbloom was a big loser there, but he was good friends with LBJ.

During the half-hour or so on-camera interview, I knew it would be edited down to only a few minutes that would be in the film, and one of the parts edited out was when Rowe asked me the name of the guy LBJ stayed with, and I momentarily couldn’t think of Carroll Rosenbloom’s name.

After it was over, and they began to disassemble the tents and put away their equipment, I mentioned to Rowe and one of the producers that next year – 2013 was the 50th anniversary of the assassination of President Kennedy, it would be a big media event and they should consider doing a similar documentary on the assassination. I said that I would put together a proposal and outline a tour, similar to what they did with the history of booze, except on the assassination.

And as I was leaving, I overheard two of the producers talking about the assassination and I knew that at least I had them hooked on the idea.

While I don’t get Discovery and haven’t seen the “How Booze Built America” show, I know it was on and they used some of the footage of me because a half dozen friends called and texted me to say they saw it. Here’s some links to some outtakes:

Dirty Jobs' host talks about "How Booze Built America"

 

The Drinker's Dictionary | How Booze Built America

 

The Booze Effect | How Booze Built America

 

America's Revolution

 

How Booze Built America promo

 

The Genius of Mike | How Booze Built America

 

How Booze Built America Mike Rowe Singing "The National Anthem"

 

Lincoln and Booze | How Booze Built America

Energetic Ethanol | How Booze Built America

 

This Ball's for You | How Booze Built America

Hatchet Woman | How Booze Built America

 

Toilet Humor | How Booze Built America


 

The Failure Pile | How Booze Built America

 

BIG ALCOHOL HAS A NEW FACE! How Booze Built America Mike Rowe


Mike Rowe Launches New Show 'How Booze Built America' Video TheBlaze com


George Washington 1, Whiskey Rebellion 0 | How Booze Built America


Monday, September 10, 2012

Nucky Thompson and Jimmy Buffett - the New Nucky


                                      Jimmy Buffett, the New Nucky Thompson, in a suit and tie.

When I tell people I have a photo of Jimmy in a suit and tie it's usually good for a bar room bet, so here's the photo and the story behind it.


                                         Jimmy & I - the story behind the picture 

The first time I met Buffett was at the Caribbean Club - the old Key Largo Hotel bar, before he made it big time. The hotel, where the classic Bogart film Key Largo was filmed, had burned down long ago, and in its place was this little one story bungalow, shot and beer bar on the bay, with a pool table. We were shooting pool there one afternoon with Lynn Delcorio and the guys from the Quiescence dive shop, when Jimmy, apparently having been asleep in the corner booth, woke up and introduced himself.  

Since he didn’t have a hit yet, nobody knew who he was, but he fit in well with our crowd, bought a round of drinks and fell into the nine-ball rotation with the guys while the girls sat in lounge chairs out back under the palm trees by the bay.

Later he played solo guitar and sang during the open mic night and won the $50 prize, which was a lot of money in the days when a bottle of beer cost fifty cents.

A few years later we were all glad to hear his songs on the radio and were proud to know him, especially when he made it, made it big-time from such humble beginnings. And from all accounts, the money and celebrity didn’t seem to change his personality or style.

When we finally got to Key West, after parking the van at the trailer park next to the shrimp boat docks, we went to the bar we had heard Jimmy opened – Margaritaville. Jimmy wasn’t there, but the bartender said to stick around, as he was due in to pick up the receipts, and sure enough, he came in and went right to the cash register, counted the money and put it in his pockets, and as he was walking out I stopped him and asked if he remembered us from the Key Largo days.

He stood back and scanned us, clicked his fingers and then said “nine ball, the afternoon of open mic night, right?” 

I really was surprised that he recalled us saying, “You mean that was such a special day you really remember it?”

And he said with a laugh, “You must think that I always slept in the back booth there. Sure I remember it. I just got my first record contract and I was on a load, but yea, I remember it.”

A crowd had developed around us, and somebody tugged at Jimmy’s shirt and asked him to autograph a record album. He smiled, shrugged and signed, but then somebody wanted a photo of them together, and people started pestering him, and buzzing around like flies, so he just waved to us as he walked backwards out the kitchen door.

That was the last time I saw Jimmy until FreemantleAustralia, 1987, or was it 1988? There for theAmerica’s Cup sailing regatta, we were cheering on Dennis Conner to win back the Cup he had lost to the Aussie in NewportR.I. four years earlier. The Cup is the oldest sports trophy in competition and it was the first time since 1858 that a foreign country had taken the America’s Cup away. Dennis Conner was embarrassed he had lost it and was determined to win it back. Jimmy wrote a song about it, and Americans who had never sailed in their lives were suddenly interested in the America’s Cup sailboat race on the other side of the world.

I heard Jimmy was there from Joe Scafario, my Ocean City, NJ neighbor who said he was walking around town when he came across Jimmy playing guitar and singing on a street corner like a vagabond, and he had a video to prove it.

A few days later I caught up with Jimmy at the bar at the Sail & Anchor pub. He was by himself, having a cold Swan, the local beer.

Even though I had grown a beard since I saw him last he recognized me. “Key Largo, right? Nine-ball. You Jersey guys are the only ones I know who play nine-ball.”

After shooting the breeze and trading a few shouts – Australian for rounds of beer, Jimmy said he really enjoyed being Down Under.

“They don’t recognize me here,” he said, incredulously. “So I can go out and about like this without people bothering me. I can’t do this at home. I can’t even hang out at my own joint because of the freaking idiots who just want a piece of me – my signature, my picture, do this, do that, I can’t even go out in public anymore. But here they don’t know me. It’s great.”

Just then a new Australian friend came up to me, “Hey Ned, What about you now?” he says.

I explain to Jimmy that the Aussies nicknamed me Ned, after their famous outlaw, and I introduce him, “Ian, this here’s my American friend Jimmy Buffett.” They shake hands and Ian orders a shout for the three of us, and asks Jimmy what he does in America. Jimmy looks at me, laughs and slaps his thigh. “See!”

They knew his songs if you named them, and hummed a few bars, but his name and reputation hadn’t quite got as far as Freemantle yet, partially because the people there pretty much live a laid back Jimmy Buffet lifestyle anyway, so it isn’t that special.

The America’s Cup races went on for weeks, through November and December, our winters being their summer, and the competition was fierce, but once there was a break in the action, before the main showdown between Dennis and the Australians, they had the America’s Cup Ball.

A black tie affair in which Prince Albert of Monaco was the guest of honor, the America’s Cup Ball is the principal social affair of the entire event, and everyone has a smashing good time. I knew Albert from Ocean City, where his family has a beach house, and once saw his mother give the trophy to Graham Hill at the Monaco Grand Prix, but I didn’t get a chance to talk to Albert because of all the festivities.

All of the best Australian bands took turns performing, and about three o’clock in the morning we were still on the dance floor when the emcee said, “We understand that Jimmy Buffet the American pop star is in the house and we’d like him to come up here and sing us a song.”

I hadn’t seen Jimmy all evening, but he came through the crowd towards me laughing and saying, “Now I’m a Pop Star, how about that?”

Then he grabs me by the arm and leans over and says in my ear, “Kelly, do you believe this? I didn’t even wear a suit and tie to my high school prom, and here I am UNDERdressed.” Just then a flash went off and somebody took a picture of us.

While all the other men wore black tie tuxedos, Jimmy had on a white suit and white tie, thus expressing his casual individuality without insulting our Aussie guests.

A few days later, at the Sail & Anchor, Jimmy was saying that he was disappointed that he didn’t do anything for Dennis Conner’s Stars & Stripes crew, who were always sailing, either practicing or competing. So one night they threw a party for the crew at the Beach Bar, where Jimmy could give them a good show.

I had met local Australian singer-songwriter Kelly Newton at a concert at the Eagle’s (Australian rules) football stadium a few weeks earlier, and she had tickets to see Kenny Rogers and Dolly Parton at the arena, but I convinced her Jimmy would be better.

“Whose Jimmy Buffett?” she wanted to know.

I don’t know how the Rogers and Parton show went, but Jimmy was tremendous, playing acoustical guitar with another local guitarist who backed him on rhythm, with a few dozen people at the Beach Bar in FreemantleAustralia


Jimmy playing solo acoustic at the Beach Bar in Freemantle, Australia, (circa 1988).

A few nights later Kelly Newton and I were sitting in this Italian restaurant when the waiter brought us over a bottle of champagne, saying that it was compliments of the gentleman at a nearby table. I look over and it’s Jimmy sitting with an older man.

“Jimmy Buffett,” I say.

“Jimmy Buffett?!” the waiter said.

“Yea, that’s Jimmy.”

I thought it was a big mistake because even though the waiter didn’t recognize him at first, he said he played guitar and knew Buffet’s songs and started asking Jimmy questions about music. Then he asked if he would sing a few songs if he got him a guitar, and a few minutes later the waiter was back, guitar in hand, and Jimmy was serenading a dozen people and the staff of the restaurant.

Two free and intimate Jimmy Buffett shows in as many nights.

Later on I apologized to him for breaking his cover as I knew he didn’t like the attention, but he shrugged it off and said he really likes the Australians. He then introduced me to the older man he had dinner with, - his dad, saying that he was glad he got the opportunity to sing a few songs as it made the night a little more special, especially for his pop, who seldom got a chance to see him perform.

The next day, I was walking across the Stars & Stripes compound when I came across Jimmy and his dad going the other way, thanked them for the bottle of champagne and impromptu performance, and stood back and took a picture of them.

[To see photo of Jimmy and his dad in Freemantle, Australia go to: Whitedeercafe: Jimmy and his Dad ]
A few months later, back in the States a group of us went to a Buffett concert in a limo, and I took along a copy of Jimmy’s children’s book “Jolly Mon,” about a magic guitar. I went back stage gave him some of the photos from Australia and got Jimmy to personalize it to my friend’s son, Chris McCall. But things were too chaotic and we didn’t get a chance to talk.

Then I got four Jimmy Buffett concert tickets in the mail. I don’t know if they came from him in exchange for the photos or what, but as the date got closer, I decided I really didn’t want to go. I lived in Cape May at the time and just didn’t feel like driving to Camden (my hometown) and march through the cattle pens to see him play from 300 yards away. I knew a lot of Parrottheads, and gave them to one of the biggest, one of the owners of the Fudge Kitchen, who was taking his whole family to the show.

I was really surprised to hear in the news that Buffett was going to turn the Trump Marina into a Margaritaville Hotel and Casino, and once that deal went sour thought that was the end of it, and was really, really surprised to learn that he was opening a Margaritaville on the Boardwalk at Resorts. Resorts had already adopted a 1920s motif to go with the age of the hotel and capitalize on the popularity of HBO's Boardwalk Empire, so I was wondering how the Buffett style would fit in with the 20s motif? 

I almost didn’t believe it but when it was announced I showed up for the press conference on the boardwalk.
For a guy who now owns hotels, bars and restaurant chains and puts on multi-million dollar concert tours I was surprised that he bothered to show up himself. Knowing Jimmy however, I knew he wouldn’t stick around too long with the stiffs and suits, so instead of standing with the other reporters in front of a makeshift stage on the boardwalk, I waited outback, leaned against his limo and had a smoke with his driver, Al, a young Italian kid from Chicago.

Al was telling me that Jimmy doesn’t just plan on opening up a Margaritaville Bar and Restaurant on the Boardwalk, he has bigger ambitions – he wants to hold a week long jazz festival like New Orleans and a bar bands bonanza like they have in Austin. He wants to bring back Miss America and fix the Boardwalk Hall organ, and he even wants to bring the America’s Cup boats to Atlantic City and hold the races right off Resorts so you can watch them from the hotel roofs.

It wasn’t long before Jimmy came out of the stage door of Resorts and Al opened the back seat door for him. He’s wearing shorts, a green shirt, brown baseball cap and sunglasses.

“Hi Jimmy,” I said, “remember me from Freemantle?”

“Sure Ned,” Jimmy said, “I remember you from Key Largo.” 

“You’ve come a long way since then,” I said. “Welcome to Atlantic City. Al’s been telling me about some of your plans.”

“Well thanks, yea, I’m the New Nucky Thompson,” he says with a laugh, “maybe you can show me around someday, but I gotta run right now. I’m on a tight schedule.”

“Jimmy,” I said, “will you do me a favor?”

“Sure, anything you want.”

“Sometime down the line, when you have the time, will you do a benefit show for the MarineMammal Stranding Center?”

“Sure thing,” he says. “Anything else?”

“Well, for me, this is Atlantic City, my backyard, and if you’re the New Nucky, I’d like to have the Island Shirt concession.”

Then snapping his fingers and pointing at me, he cracks a smile and says, “You got it!”

Then the limo door slammed shut and Al jumped in the front seat and they drove off.

Just then the stage door opened and New Jersey Governor Chris Christie sticks his head out of the door saying, “Is Jimmy here?”

I point to the limo driving off down South Carolina Avenue.

Dressed in black suit and pink tie, the governor has a piece of paper and pen in one hand and a camera in the other, and wipes the sweat off his brow with his arm while saying, “Shoot, I wanted to get his autograph and a picture of us together.”

“You’ll get another opportunity for that. He’ll be back,” I said. “You know governor, you’d feel a lot better and look a lot more comfortable in an island shirt.”

Nucky & Jimmy


Monday, July 2, 2012

1929 Atlantic City Organized Crime Convention



Originally published in the Boardwalk Journal - October 2010
ACConsig: 1929 Mob Convention / Boardwalk Journal 10/2010

The 1929 Atlantic City Convention of Organized Crime – Bill Kelly

Atlantic City has been known as a convention town for a long time, but the most significant convention the city has ever hosted didn’t meet at Convention Hall or even conventionally, and certainly didn’t abide by Roberts Rules of Order.

The May, 1929 meeting of organized crime bosses in Atlantic City was probably the most significant ever held, not only because of it’s effect on the future development of the town, but because of the national impact the decisions made there had on society, not only then, but over time, up to and including today.

At the time Atlantic City was considered “wide open,” a place where gangsters could go to make private, if sometimes illegal investments and for sit-down mob meetings, as were a few other cities – Miami, Las Vegas and Old Havana. Atlantic City was run however, by one man – Enoch “Nuckey” Johnson , the local political boss who ran the town as his private domain. Like “Commodore” Lou Kinley had before him. Nuckey got a percentage of practically every business in Atlantic City, especially illegal businesses, and as it was during Prohibition, the most lucrative business at the time was the importation of smuggled liquor.

Lonnie Zwillman of North Jersey controlled most of the bootleg market once the cases of booze from the Caribbean and Canada were transferred at sea from mother ship transports to small Chirs Craft speedboats. Once brought ashore the booze was put on waiting trucks to be transported the goods throughout the rest of the country. It was later estimated, by the Kefauver Committee that Zwillman’s outfit had a 65% market share of all illegal booze in North America.

But there were also illegal casinos in Atlantic City at the time, all operating openly and open to the public. And Big Time confidence men like Charlie Gondorff (of The Sting fame) were allowed to run Big Store Con games, as long as long as they only hit on transients and didn’t take any local citizens for Marks.

Booze, casino gambling, the boardwalk and beach, it didn’t even seem like there was a Depression going on. Things appeared quite normal on May 12th, 1929 when newlyweds Meyer and Anna Citron Lansky checked into one of the city’s finer boardwalk hotels. They were assigned the Honeymoon Penthouse with it’s panoramic view of the ocean and boardwalk.

Which hotel they checked into is not recorded for history, but you can be sure it was one owned by Jewish businessmen, as all the first class hotels at the time were owned by Jews or Quakers, and each served a different clientele. That’s a fact that came into play the very next day when Alphonese “Scarface” Capone stepped off a train and took a cab to one of the city’s classier hotels. Although he entered town unnoticed, and he signed into the hotel under an assumed name, his cover would soon be blown, the city of Atlantic City would be shaken upside down and the nation would rattle with the aftereffects for decades.
Snickering to his lieutenants as he signed the fictitious name to the register, Capone got a smile from Frank Nitti, Murry Humphries, Jake Guzik and Frank Rioi, but the joke quickly turned sour when the somewhat naive and strictly formal desk clerk looked at the name and politely informed Capone that, “I’m sorry sir, but this hotel does not serve those of your persuasion. My I suggest you try the hotel just down the street.”

This was Atlantic City, New Jersey, probably the only place in America where “Scarface” Al Capone could mingle with the masses and go unrecognized. He did however, have a friend in his old pal Nuckey Johnson. Capone had been Johnson’s gracious host two years earlier when Nuckey went to Chicago and was supplied with ringside seats to the Jack Dempsy-Gene Tunney heavyweight fight – the famous battle of the “long count’ bout.

Now Capone was in Atlantic City to meet with Meyer Lansky and other mob bosses. They came to Atlantic City because Nuckey Johnson controlled the town and they were assured they wouldn’t be subjected to the police hassles the Sicilian Mafia guys were subjected to in Cleveland a few weeks earlier.

Although Nuckey Johnson couldn’t protect Capone from some ethnic embarrassment, he did have such tight control over all facets of the city’s operations that, unless they robbed a bank or made a scene, known gangsters from out of town didn’t have to worry about being picked up for questioning by the police. Capone made a scene.

Told by a hotel clerk that he couldn’t check in because he signed his name under a wrong ethnic persuasion, Capone’s famous temper flared, and after a burst of obscenities and the trashing of some lobby furniture, Nuckey Johnson quickly learned that Al Capone was in town. Moving quickly to meet him, Capone and his entourage were heading south on Pacific Avenue when they were intercepted by Johnson’s convoy of dull, black limos heading the other way. They met in the middle of the street, blocked traffic for a few minutes as Capone emerged from his cab, cigar in hand, and gave Nuckey an obscenity laced public verbal lashing, letting off steam from the hotel desk incident.

Once appeased by Johnson, always the gracious host, they hugged and patted each other on the back and adjourned to the back of Nuckey’s limo. After seeing that Capone and his people had proper accommodations at the right hotel, Johnson and Capone were later seen taking in the tourists sights together and strolling down the world famous boardwalk.

Johnson and Capone then had dinner in the Italian “Ducktown” neighborhood, not far from the recently completed Convention Hall – the new auditorium which was then the largest of its kind in the world, with the biggest stage and the largest pipe organ as well. While it established Atlantic City as a major convention town on the East Coast, it’s facilities were not to be used by the guys who started checking in behind Lansky and Capone.

From Cleveland came Al “the Owl” Polizzi, one of the Sicilians hassled by cops at the earlier regional sit-down a few weeks earlier. Also from Cleveland was Moe Dalitz of the Mayfield Road Gang and his bootleg companions, Morris Kleinman, Sam Tucker and Louis Rothkopft. Other gangsters who have been identified as having attended the Atlantic City meeting include Charles “King” Solomon from Boston, Joe Bernstein from Detroit, and Joe Lanza from Kansas City, all of whom came with their henchmen in tow.
From North Jersey there was Abner “Longie” Zwillman, who controlled most of the New Jersey bootleg shipments. Philadelphia was well represented by Harry “Nig Rosen” Stromberg, Max “Boo Boo” Huff, Sam Lezar and Charles Schwarts. By far, the biggest delegation came down from New York, and consisted of Frank Costello, Author “Dutch Schultz” Flegenheimer, Louis “Lepke” Buchalter, Joe Adonis, Salvadore “Lucky” Luciano and Meyer Lansky.

Anne Citron Lansky got angry the next morning when she read in the morning newspaper that Al Capone was in town, and knew that it had to more than just a coincidence. Her new husband couldn’t even go on his honeymoon without having business to take care of.
Born Maier Suchowljansky in Grodno, Poland in 1902, young Meyer came to the United States in 1911 with his mother, sister and younger, but bigger brother Jake. Like so many other arrivals, his birthdate was noted by immigration officials as July 4th, and he took quickly to the American dream.

Later telling Israeli journalists Uri Dan that he took to gambling early, relating an incident that occurred when he was a young boy walking down Delancy Street in Manhatten on an errand for his mother. Coming across a sidewalk craps game he quickly lost his mother’s nickel, an event that had a profound affect on his life. “What troubled me more than anything else,” Lansky said, “was that I had been a loser, and that night….I swore to myself that one day I would be a winner.”

Going back to the sidewalk craps game young Lansky watched and studied the gamblers intently, and learned when to place his bet with a sure winner. “Then I began to notice,” he said, “that the men who actually ran the dice games were only pawns…of other well dressed and prosperous men,” who he also noticed seemed to be all Italians who in turn were “servant” who were “collecting the money for somebody bigger. So it must be a very big business, gambling with nickels and dimes on the sidewalks of the Lower East Side.”

After graduating from Public School #34 in 1917, Lansky worked as an auto mechanic, and first came to the attention of the police when he was arrested for fighting with Charles Luciana and Benjamen Siegel. That was the first time he was known to have officially used the name Lansky, and after the judge listened to their story, he decided that the boys had “bugs in their heads,” which temporarily gave Lansky the nickname “Meyer the Bug,” but Siegel could never shake the name “Bugsy.”

The three boys became fast friends and developed business associations, while Luciana rose in the ranks of the Italian Mafia allied under Joe “the Boss” Masseria. They were perennially at war with another New York gang run by Salvatore Maranzano, whose henchmen picked up Luciano and took him for a ride to Statin Island where they shot him a number of times and left for dead. Luciano miraculously survived, earning him the nickname “Lucky” Luciano.

Lansky, Siegel and Luciano formed a life-long alliance with each other and established themselves on the Lower East Side as a competent and efficient guns-for-hire entrepreneurs that became known as “The Bugs and Meyer Mob,” which also included Joseph “Doc” Stacher, Joe Adonis, Abner “Longie” Zwillmen and Arthur “Dutch Schultz” Flegenheimer. They either escorted Zwillmen’s bootleg liquor or they hijacked any competitors who tried to muscle in on their rackets in their territory.

Philadelphia gangster “Waxy” Gordon was especially upset at the Bug and Meyer Mob for hijacking some of his truck shipments and, as with the Capone-Moran feud in Chicago, there was tension between gangs. Since Capone actually controlled only certain sections of Chicago, other Chicago gangsters also came in to the Atlantic City meeting, including Joe “Polock” Saltis and Frank “Machine Gun” McEarlane, complete with violin cases under their arms.

Other than Capone, these were mostly new names and faces in the underworld of 1929, but before long they would make their mark and become household names. The old-guard “Mustache Petes” who ran the big city rackets for the previous few decades, referred to these new, young gangsters as “The Young Turks,” but they in turn, were considered too old fashioned, narrow-minded and set in their ways to mingle with the gangsters of other nationalities and neighborhoods. The “Petes” were not even invited to this meeting.

To some, Luciano was thought to represent the New York capo de capi Guseppi “Joe the Boss” Masseria, but in retrospect, Luciano had Masseria murdered and replaced him after the protracted war that was wagged between Masseria and the other New York rackets boss Salvadore Maranzano. Masseria and Maranzano were from the Old Order and were on the way out, and The Young Turks knew it.

One member of the old school who was invited and did attend the Atlantic City conclave was John Torrio, who was born in Naples and was one of the first immigrants to leave the notorious “Five Points” section of Brooklyn to go to Chicago, where he ran his uncle’s whorehouse. After killing his uncle and setting up his own numbers racket, Torrio brought in Al Capone from the old neighborhood to be his enforcer.

Torrio, who didn’t drink or smoke, was Capone’s mentor and one of the oldest and wisest of the delegates at the Atlantic City convention. He would play a significant role by making key policy decisions concerning the promotion of other vices, most notably gambling.

While there would be other, more notorious meetings of mobsters – Havana, 1946, the 1957 Apalachin, New York meeting that was broken up by local police, a New York restaurant sit down that was also busted by the cops, the 1929 meeting in Atlantic City was most significant because it established a new policy of inter-city-gang cooperation on a nationwide basis.

It was not a question of who was at Atlantic City, but who was not there. Besides the Mustache Petes from the Old Order of things, Bugs Moran was the most notable big name absentee. He was left back in Chicago to lick his wounds and regroup his forces after the disastrous St. Valentine’s Day Massacre.

As the most blatant gangland mass murder in history, the massacre called attention to the mobsters and put pressure on them from the public, the press, politicians and the police. It became the most influential factor in persuading the factional mob leaders of the necessity for a meeting to hash things out. Rather than let the situation get completely out of hand and reach a level of violence that would force the authorities to take action, the gangsters decided to sit down at the same table for the first time, discuss their mutual problems and arrange for an agreeable solution like normal businessmen.

Although most of the published sources place the main gathering of gangsters at the President Hotel on the Boardwalk, the large number of delegates made it necessary for them to meet in smaller caucus to discuss the topics on the agenda. Pushed along the boardwalk in wicker-rolling chairs, they didn’t talk in front of the push cart operators, but at the end of the boardwalk, like other tourists in from the big city, they took off their shoes and socks, rolled up the cuffs of their pants and waded in the shallow surf like any normal day-tripper. With their conversations muffled by the sounds of the surf breaking, the mobsters plotted strategy and began the long term planning that would control organized crime activities for the next fifty years.

Since minutes of the meetings were not transcribed for posterity, legend has it that the order of business was basically two fold. For one, they had to agree on an amiable solution to the conflicts that erupted into mob warfare, primarily geographic turf battles. Secondly, since by then it was obvious that Prohibition would not last forever, they had to get involved in legitimate businesses as well as devise an alternative source of illegal income once Prohibition ended.

As for mob warfare, since such violence hurt everyone’s business, they decided to end such conflicts by adhering strictly to the territorial spheres of influence, with each gang controlling particular rackets in each area. They also agreed to work together in setting prices, sharing warehouse space and coordinating the wholesale distribution of liquor.
The Atlantic City accords were a radical departure from pervious mob practices because they also agreed to form an executive committee to oversee and arbitrate all disputes, denote the degree of punishment to all violators and to set policy for the governing of all future illegal operations.

The creation of the Board of Directors of the National Syndicate of Organized Crime was as big as the founding of the United Nations. Although it’s very existence would be kept hidden from the public for decades, and spy novelist Ian Fleming would ridicule them with his fictional Special Executive for Counter-Intelligence, Terrorism, Revenge and Extortion – SPECTRE, it would become generally known as “The Commission.”

As for the second item on the agenda, they decided to explore gambling as a replacement for the lucrative illegal liquor profits after prohibition. With the repeal of the Volstead Act in 1933, gambling became the main preoccupation of the local mobs until 1946, when, after the Havana meeting, the French Connection became the primary source of the drugs and narcotics that would become the Syndicate’s primary source of revenue other than gambling.

The Federal Bureau of Narcotics concluded, from information provided from undercover informants, that the Atlantic City convention established the basis for the Syndicate that carved the nation into specific territories, developed a system of kangaroo courts that provided the gangsters with their own quasi-judicial system, and protected the hierarchy of the local mafia families.

Arrangements were also made to invest in a multi-million dollar slush fund to bribe law enforcement officials, ensure the election of certain politicians, hire the best attorneys and pay for the educational development of promising young men who could serve their interests in the future.

The hallmark of the meeting in Atlantic City was the centralizing of particular powers with an executive committee, like the board of directors of a blue chip industry, an exceptional and extraordinary concept that was not immediately acceptable to many of the ethnic oriented gangsters like Massaria and Marrassano, who were dinosaurs that had to go the way of the buffalo.

The dissentions of the still primarily ethnically Italian gangsters was overcome in a power-play move when Lansky nominated the Mafia’s own Johnny Torrio as Chairman of the Board, a motion that quickly won the endorsement of most of the mobsters present. Torrio was also the only one who could take care of Capone, whose violent ways were causing problems for all of them.

With the Commission in charge, Torrio at the helm and business completed, the final item on the agenda was Capone, and what to do with him. While the Chicago rackets were combined, and Capone was the nominal boss, he had to take a vacation, or he was going to be thrown to the wolves. He was given the option of dieing right then, or taking a sabbatical from the business for a while. The newspapers had all reported that Capone was in town and one of the William Randolph Hurst newspapers even ran a faked composite photograph of Capone, Knucky Johnson and Meyer Lansky walking down the boardwalk, all of which had the pubic clamoring for Capone to be busted for something.
Although they put an APB – All Points Bulletin out for the man who was seen all over town – throwing chairs in a hotel lobby, screaming obscenities on Pacific Avenue, having dinner in Ducktown, riding in a wicker-walker and strolling down the boardwalk with Johnson, suddenly, Capone couldn’t be found anywhere.

According to local legend, when the heat was turned on, Capone slipped out of Atlantic City and retreated to a local private country club, either the Atlantic City Country Club in Northfield or Seaview in Absecon, where he played bad golf and good cards until the heat was off a few days later.

On May 16, 1929, a week after Lansky’s wedding, Capone showed up at the train station but missed the train by minutes. With a police motorcycle escort to the edge of town, Capone’s entourage drove to Philadelphia, where he again just missed a train to Chicago. Going to a movie on Market Street with his bodyguard Frank Rio, Capone emerged from the theater to be confronted by Philadelphia Police Detective James “Shooey” Malone.
Malone flashed his badge, they talked quietly for a moment and Capone calmly volunteered his .38 caliber revolver and was promptly arrested by Malone. Rio momentarily balked, but Capone smiled and urged him to surrender his weapon too.
Philadelphia’s Director of Public Safety Major Lemel B. Schoefield accepted praise for the arrest of the nation’s number one crime czar, though it later became apparent that Det. Malone had met Capone the year before at Hialeah racetrack in Florida, and Capone had arranged for his own arrest. Besides taking the heat off the rest of the Syndicate, in the secure hands of the law he also acquired sanctuary from a vengeful Bugs Moran.

In the custody of the Philadelphia authorities, Capone was forthcoming about the Atlantic City Sit Down, emphasizing the decision to end mob warfare. “I told them,” Capone said, reciting a line from one of Lansky’s lectures, “there is enough business to make us all rich, and it’s time to stop the killing and look on our own business as other men look on theirs.”

When asked about the purpose of the meeting, Capone said, “It is with the idea of making peace among the gangsters that I spent the week in Atlantic City and got the word of each leader that there will be no more shooting.”

But Capone also told them he, “…had to hide from the rest of the racketeers,” who weren’t at the meeting. They had a vendetta against him. It seems that there comes a point in every gangster’s career when, despite all the power and money they have accumulated, life is suddenly vulnerable to one professional contract killer. John Torrio thought that prison was the safest place, Sam Giancana, who would later take over the Chicago mob, fled to Mexico and South America, Joe Bonnano had himself kidnapped. Capone chose jail.

Philadelphia Criminal Court Judge John E. Wash sentenced Capone harshly for such a petty crime of being a suspicious person and carrying a concealed deadly weapon, the maximum of one year at Holmesburg Penitentiary. After a short stint there however, Capone was transferred to the more relaxed confines of Eastern Pen, where he served out the duration of his sentence under the lenient warden Herbert B. Smith, who furnished Capone’s cell with lamps, a library, radio console and lounge chair and gave him access to his private office telephone.

With Capone in jail, the Syndicate began the process of getting rid of the old Mustache Petes and preparing to engage in Big Time gambling activities on a very large scale.
In Hoboken, New Jersey, Lansky’s new father-in-law permitted him to use his Molaska Inc. as a front for a number of his illegal businesses, one of which was the largest distillery in the state. Molaska took its name from molasses chips, a necessary ingredient for the making of rum, which became more profitable than smuggling it.

Molaska rum business took Lansky to Cuba, where he met with Sgt. Fugencio Batista, the strong-arm coup leader who twice took over the reins of Cuba. The first time he was in power Lansky made a deal with Batista to allow him to open a legal casino in Cuba, much like the illegal casinos he operated in Florida, New York and New Jersey. In order for the Syndicate to control casinos in Havana, it was arranged for casinos to operate in hotels with 500 rooms or more, and since the Syndicate controlled Hotel National was the only hotel in Havana with 500 rooms, the Lansky mob owned the only casino in Cuba.
The second Havana hotel to qualify for a casino was owned by Santo Traficante, who hired Atlantic City native John Martino to run his electronics and security operations.
Two weeks before Castro came to power Lansky and the Syndicate sold the National Hotel-Casino to Mike McLaney and Carroll Rosenbloom, both of whom would loose their shirts in the deal. While Mike McLaney’s brother William owned the land near New Orleans where anti-Castro Cuban commandos trained – and reportedly the Magazine Street house where Lee Harvey Oswald lived, Lyndon Baines Johnson would be Rossenbloom’s houseguest in Atlantic City during the 1964 Democratic National Convention.

In 1976 New Jersey law allowed for legal casinos in Atlantic City hotels that had 500 rooms or more, – the Havana model, with only one hotel in the entire city that qualified – Resorts International, a Lansky-Syndicate controlled company. The second and third Atlantic City casinos – Bally and Caesars, were also Syndicate controlled companies, following the policies, delineating the strategies and continuing the traditions laid out at the 1929 Convention.

The federal government did not officially recognize the existence of the syndicate until May 1, 1951 when Estes Kefauver, Chairman of the Senate Crim Investigating Committee, visited Atlantic City, New Orleans, Chicago and New York before determining and reporting that, “a nationwide crime syndicate does exist in the United States,…and behind the local mobs which make up the national crime syndicate is a shadowy, international criminal organization known as the Mafia.”

Even after that, the FBI refused to place a priority on the Mafia or organized crime until years later, when local police broke up a major mob meeting in upstate New York.
The records of Kefauver’s investigation were then promptly and routinely locked away for 50 years as “Congressional Records,” which are exempt from Freedom of Information Act requests.

In 1998, the Assassination Records Review Board refused to release the records of the Kefauver Committee investigation by declaring them “assassination records” because they claimed they were not related to or considered relevant to the assassination of President Kennedy, even though the second chief counsel to the House Select Committee on Assassinations (HSCA) believes that the President may have been the victim of a mob hit.

The Kefauver Committee records were scheduled for release in 2001, but are being systematically released after being reviewed by request.

More recently the HBO TV production of “Boardwalk Empire” has called attention to Nucky Johnson and his control of the rackets in Atlantic City and how he helped fuel the nation during prohibition.