This chapter traces the dramatic collapse of Robert Moses’ carefully cultivated public image and the exposure of corruption within his urban renewal program, Title I, during the late 1950s. The story opens in 1959, a turning point when mounting pressure from New York’s Citizens Union and a newly emboldened press forced Moses to open the files of his Slum Clearance Committee to public inspection. Moses, long used to unquestioned authority, bristled at inquiries about how Title I project sponsors were chosen. He named several prominent individuals, but notably left out Tammany Hall politician Samuel Caspert, who played a crucial role behind the scenes. Reporters, no longer satisfied with vague answers, seized on these omissions and Moses’ admission that sponsors were selected without competitive bidding. When asked if there were written reports on sponsor qualifications, Moses—perhaps underestimating the press or unaware of what the files actually contained—agreed to release them. Yet when journalists examined the files, they found them stripped of any meaningful information, a move that only deepened suspicions of deliberate cover-up.
The narrative then follows the dogged efforts of investigative reporters like Haddad and Kahn. Working with scant resources and even a temperamental car, they managed to uncover a scandal that would forever change how the public viewed Moses’ urban renewal efforts. Their big break came when they found evidence linking Louis I. Pokrass, an associate of notorious mobster Frank Costello, to a Title I project. This connection, which Moses’ own staff had missed, shifted the story from bureaucratic bungling to outright scandal. As the investigation continued, more links to organized crime surfaced, some stronger than others. Moses dismissed these revelations as unfair and irrelevant, but the damage was done. The scandal sparked a wave of investigative reporting, with journalists digging deeper and uncovering even more troubling details.
As reporters pressed on, they revealed a tangled web of corruption and political influence running through the Title I program. By carefully sifting through documents, Haddad and his colleagues identified press agents like Sydney S. Baron and William J. Donoghue as go-betweens for powerful political figures, including Carmine De Sapio and other Tammany Hall insiders, who profited handsomely from the program. Another reporter, Gleason, exposed a shady land deal at Clason Point, showing how political insiders cashed in on urban renewal. The investigation also highlighted the role of Shanahan, Moses’ vice chairman, who used his bank’s influence to steer sponsor selection and benefit from risk-free, government-backed loans. Reporters shared leads and findings, keeping the momentum alive and gradually exposing just how deeply Moses’ projects were entwined with New York’s political machine.
At first, only a handful of determined reporters and editors—especially those at the Post and World-Telegram—pursued the story, often facing criticism and pushback. Their persistence paid off as the story gained traction, eventually drawing in larger outlets like the New York Times, which lent greater credibility and depth to the coverage. As the media spotlight intensified, politicians began to weigh in, and newsroom attitudes shifted from skepticism to support. The investigations increasingly implicated Moses and his associates, revealing questionable relationships and practices. The chapter also touches on the personal and ethical challenges faced by reporters as they confronted the human consequences of their reporting.
With each new revelation, Moses, once seemingly untouchable, became the central figure in a series of exposés linking his closest associates to corruption and dubious financial dealings. As journalists uncovered hefty consultant fees and conflicts of interest involving Moses’ aides, his own name moved from the margins to the headlines. Moses’ response—lashing out at the press and trying to limit reporters’ access—only fueled further scrutiny and shifted even more attention onto him. Newspapers that had once supported him grew more critical, and even the New York Times, initially defensive, cooled in its support as Moses continued to attack their reporting. This cycle showed how Moses’ combative tactics ultimately backfired, undermining his reputation and intensifying the very scandals he hoped to quash.
By the end of 1959, Moses’ public image was in tatters, but his real power remained largely untouched. His authority was rooted not in popularity, but in his control over public authorities and vast financial resources. Mayor Wagner, reliant on Moses for both political and economic reasons, couldn’t afford to fire or alienate him. The press, unaware of the true depth of Moses’ institutional power, often misread the situation, focusing on surface-level scandals rather than the entrenched systems that kept Moses in control.
As Moses considered taking on the presidency of the World’s Fair, he faced a mix of personal and professional challenges: his daughter’s illness, family financial strains, and his wife’s declining health. Professionally, the World’s Fair represented a fresh opportunity—a way to restore his reputation, gain new prestige, and perhaps achieve national recognition. Moses’ transition to the Fair was carefully managed, with political maneuvering delaying his exit from city roles. Despite the scandals and opposition, he left his positions on a high note, celebrated by New York’s elite, and ensured his continued influence by installing loyal successors.
In the end, the chapter makes it clear that while Moses may have stepped down from some city posts, he retained significant control over major public works. His authority, anchored in a network of public agencies, remained almost impossible to challenge. The exposés and scandals may have tarnished his image, but they barely touched the real foundations of his power. Only Moses himself, through his own actions, could truly threaten his position.