The frustration felt by Atlantic City’s residents as their town deteriorated with no end in sight came to a head in 1971. The beneficiary of this emotional tidal wave was Joseph McGahn, Pat’s older brother. Dr. Joseph L. McGahn was the ideal candidate to oppose Farley. An Irish-Catholic, born and raised in Atlantic City, McGahn attended Our Lady Star of the Sea School and Holy Spirit High School. He was valedictorian of his college class and received his medical degree from the University of Pennsylvania. Before entering politics, McGahn had played a positive and highly visible role in the greater Atlantic City community. He had been a Little League Commissioner for more than 10 years, and as an obstetrician/gynecologist, McGahn and his partner had delivered more than 12,000 babies. Intelligent, articulate, witty, and personable to all his patients, his following included thousands of entire families. It was an excellent base for an aspiring politician.
Joe McGahn’s first run for political office was for Absecon City Council in 1966. He was elected the lone Democrat on a seven-member council. Two years later he ran for mayor and scored a startling victory, winning by a margin of two to one in a city with almost no registered Democrats. It was a phenomenal accomplishment and made “Doc Joe” a leader among the independent Democrats. With Joe serving as the spokesman and Pat as strategist, the McGahn brothers devoted their time and spent their money building up the County Democratic organization, all the while aiming toward the ’71 Senate race. After the 1970 election, there finally was a legitimate second party with the Democrats having four mayors and 25 councilmen holding office throughout Atlantic County. While a far cry from the cohesive unit that the Republicans had assembled over the years, it was all the McGahns needed as a base for their battle with Farley.
The McGahn brothers took their battle right into Farley’s backyard. They knew their campaign needed much more than the support of Democrats and Independents. The edge in registered voters was so huge that to be successful, Joe McGahn needed the votes of a large percentage of rank-and-file Republicans. Building on relationships they had made over the years, Pat and Joe McGahn reached into the Republican organization and whittled away at Farley’s core of strength. The natural place to begin was on the mainland.
The Shore Road Republicans had little difficulty supporting Joe McGahn. In many ways he was one of them. He had re-established his home on the mainland to escape Atlantic City’s urban rot. Like them, he saw no future in a city or political organization dominated by an aging autocrat whose practices were better suited for the old style ward politics of 30 years earlier. These mainlanders wanted a change even if it meant voting for a Democrat. Any reluctance they might have had in supporting McGahn was eliminated by Farley’s refusal to step aside. They had given him his chance. He could have bowed out gracefully and maybe even chosen his successor. It’s likely someone such as County Freeholder Director Howard “Fritz” Haneman, son of Hap’s crony, Vincent Haneman, would have been acceptable to Farley’s critics. But Farley wouldn’t consider passing the reins and that left the Shore Road Republicans with no choice. In their view, Farley had to go.
With Shore Road Republicans on board, the McGahns turned to Atlantic City. That front was handled deftly by brother Pat. Both the McGahns were born and raised in the Fourth Ward and had strong ties there, but it was Pat who was his father’s son, the bartender who could read his customers in a single glance. As a politician, Pat had much in common with Nucky Johnson. Streetwise and tough nosed, Pat McGahn understood what it took to survive in Atlantic City politics. Like Nucky, Pat was as nasty as an alley cat to his enemies, and generous and loyal to his friends.
There was almost no one in Atlantic City who didn’t know Pat McGahn and that he was the force behind his brother’s campaign. Their association was comparable to the division of responsibilities that existed between Hap Farley and Jimmy Boyd; Joe was the candidate and good guy; Pat was the tactician and enforcer. As was true with Boyd and Farley, Pat didn’t have to confer with Joe before making a commitment. Meeting individually with dozens of precinct workers and ward heelers, Pat exploited the discontent of Atlantic City Republican Party regulars and persuaded them to support the Democratic slate.
He knew that many of them had counseled Farley against seeking re-election, and they saw his defeat as inevitable. Pat McGahn wooed them on terms they understood; this was a watershed election, there was going to be a major transfer of power, and they could be part of the new regime. In short, the train was leaving the station and this was their chance to get on board. His appeal was effective. While there were few publicly announced defections, there were many ward workers who quietly urged their neighbors to dump Farley.
And dump him they did. It was a humiliating defeat. Farley was beaten almost three to two, losing by a margin of nearly 12,000 votes. The entire ticket went down in 18 of 23 municipalities in Atlantic County. Hap lost Atlantic City by more than 2,000 votes. In Jimmy Boyd’s vaunted Fourth Ward, where Farley had consistently received pluralities by as much as 5,000 votes, the McGahns fought him to a standoff, with Hap edging Joe McGahn by less than 200 votes. For the first time in his life, Hap Farley had been whipped. It was something beyond his experience and left him numb with disappointment. Despite the hurt, Farley conceded defeat graciously. There were no harsh words nor recriminations. He congratulated Joe McGahn and wished him well. Through it all he remained a gentleman.
If Hap Farley had any regrets about the ’71 campaign, he never expressed them. Had he stepped down voluntarily, he could have been the resort’s distinguished elder statesman; instead, after his defeat—with the exception of a critical election in 1976—he was shoved aside like a worthless relic. There were still those who sought his counsel, but they were few in number and it was always privately. The stigma of his rejection by the voters ostracized him from the political mainstream; however, Farley didn’t permit bitterness to consume him and he accepted his fate. For the next several years, until his death to cancer in 1977, Farley was a booster for his city whenever he had the chance.
Of the three bosses who reigned over the corruption of Atlantic City, it was Francis Sherman Farley who ruled with the most knowledge of government and restraint on unlawful excesses. Hap Farley was a giant. In the history of New Jersey politics, he is in a league of his own.
9
Turn Out the Lights
The windows hadn’t been washed in months. The seats were grimy and the entire place had a damp stench about it. The marquee was dark and blank, save for the words “Coming Soon.” Only Skinny D’Amato, owner of the 500 Club, could recall the last name act to appear in his nightclub.
Paul “Skinny” D’Amato was a local hero. A grade school dropout, running numbers at age 11, he had his own gambling room by the time he was 16. A successful racketeer since the Nucky Johnson era, D’Amato was held in esteem by the entire community. Skinny seemed to know everyone, from the guy slicing lunchmeat at the corner grocery to entertainers in Hollywood. Handsome, dapper, and charming in a way expected of a nightclub owner, D’Amato was a nocturnal creature. A coffee-drinking chain smoker, Skinny hardly ever awoke before noon and routinely had breakfast in bed. The 500 Club was his life’s work, offering all kinds of entertainment, from singers and comedians to women and boys. In its prime, the acts at the 500 Club rivaled the best in Vegas and the Big Apple. Dean Martin and Jerry Lewis got their start there, and Frank Sinatra was a frequent performer. But the 500 Club was no longer a nightclub; it was a seedy bar, attracting a handful of old regulars and a trickle of first-timers lured by its reputation. D’Amato was having trouble meeting payroll and taxes, remaining open for lack of anything better to do. The same was true of most of his customers, especially the female patrons.
Rita was the only woman sitting at the bar. Platinum blonde hair and rings on every finger but her thumbs, she wasn’t easy to mistake. Her new jeans were so tight they looked as if she had been poured into them. Her sweater was a gaudy green and despite the money she’d spent on her bra, her breasts sagged unmercifully. The years hadn’t been kind and no amount of Maybelline helped. It was a young crowd, most of whom came to the 500 Club
