This is a tale of two Georges: Santos and Santayana.
The former, a disgraced and now expelled member of Congress, has given us (particularly the comedians among us) a wealth of material for punchlines that will echo for years. The latter, a philosopher and poet from the distant past, has given us (particularly the historians among us) reasons to remain cautious about the future.
Quite specifically, I am concerned about the future of Atlantic City, a resort town that I have worked in, played in and studied for my entire adult life.
George Santos, as we well know, spent campaign funds on a variety of non-campaign items, ranging from Botox to luxury Hermes purchases to, ahem, a trip to Atlantic City, where he dutifully recorded an expenditure of $2,281.
Visiting Atlantic City is neither a crime nor is it particularly challenging. Just go to Exit 38 on the Garden State Parkway and head east. But that $2,281 has generated millions of dollars in publicity that Atlantic City neither wants nor needs.
When the Santos story broke, comedians found much to chortle over. Leslie Jones, a comedian who had recently played Atlantic City, found it funny that the Santos visit was characterized as being “lavish”. She asked: “Have you been to Atlantic City? A ‘lavish’ trip there just means you don’t go home with bed bugs.”
Comedians are not alone in roasting Atlantic City. An article on Santos in the New Republic referred to Atlantic City as “America’s most depressing resort town.”
I regurgitate these punchlines to honor the legacy of that other George, the esteemed historian. Santayana is particularly famous for his cautionary, timeless note: “Those who cannot remember the past are condemned to repeat it.”
A central moment in Atlantic City’s past was August 1964, when this tiny resort community earned the honor (and it usually is an honor) of hosting the Democratic National Convention. The city’s best days were already behind it, but it still had a sufficiently positive reputation that earned it the privilege of being that host city. By September 1964, that was no longer the case, thanks in large measure to the media coverage that accompanied that convention.
During that convention, the Cincinnati Enquirer described Atlantic City as “‘paying for poverty at peak prices. Our room looked like something out of a Charles Addams cartoon book.”
Others were no kinder. The Washington Star noted that “As a convention town, this is strictly Endsville. Now I know this is a resort leftover from the early 1900s, but they could clean the rooms.”
The Indianapolis Star reported: “Early arrivals are dubious, inspecting rooms without TV or air conditioning and puzzling dark stains on the dingy wallpaper.”
Historian Theodore H. White, in his classic book, “The Making of the President, 1964,” delivered the coup de grace when he described Atlantic City as the “original Bay of Pigs.”
I am hardly a blind defender of Atlantic City, as I spent years researching and analyzing the city, as well as its political and business leadership in what I fundamentally believe was a sober, clear-eyed fashion.
My work in reporting the past is precisely why I ponder a future in which punchlines make their way into mainstream perception. Can words like “depressing” and “bedbugs” fairly be attached to, say, a Borgata, Ocean or Hard Rock, etc.?
Fairness, however, is not the issue. Santayana was right. Ignoring the past is an invitation to repeat the past. Don’t look for fairness in either comedy or commentary. But those who hold a stake in the future of Atlantic City have a story to tell and a message to put forth.
By the 1970s, long after that critical convention, Atlantic City had arguably devolved into becoming the poorest urban center in the nation, and – through fits and starts, and multiple mistakes – has managed to become a regional destination.
There is still much to be done, but Atlantic City’s future can be a lot brighter than its past. That message may not be funny, but it needs to be shared.
