Economic Disaster: Have's and Have-Not's

In the spring of 1935, a 22-year old butcher's helper named Peter Zmindak dreamed of ways to make more money.

Like many families in mid-Depression Fairfield, the Zmindak's were struggling.  His father worked in the Singer factory in Bridgeport to support his mother and their four sons.  Always a dreamer, Peter cooked up a scheme that looked like a smart route to easy money.  In fact, he wondered why he didn't think of it earlier.  He put the first stage of his plan into action:  He wrote a letter to Annie Burr Jennings, the grand dame of Fairfield and one of the original stockholders of Standard Oil.

Giving no thought to disguise his handwriting, he hand-wrote a little note and mailed it to Sunnie-Holme, where Jennings lived:

"Studying your movements and routine we decided that now is the best time to strike.  Right now we are only asking. Later if circumstances compel, we must demand of the following terms which we hope you will kindly oblige with.  For the cash payment of twelve thousand dollars ($12,000) we will cease our threats to do you bodily harm. We ask you to place the following ad in the April 10 edition of the Times Star in the Situations wanted  (female) Column – Woman desiring work as a housekeeper apply.  Through this ad we will know that you have accepted our terms. After that you will get a detailed instructions directing your disposal of the money. Please keep this matter to you.  It's known only to you and us."

A few days later Zmindak sent a second letter to Miss Jennings, because he had not received a response to the first, accusing her of "simple stubbornness." He then sent his final letter, instructing her to send a chauffeur with a package containing 1,750 one-dollar bills, 1,970 $5 bills, 80 $10 bills and 30 $20 bills.  One can picture Zmindak  imagining the stacks and stacks of bills that would make his family rich.  Seen in 1935 dollars, the sum would be roughly the equivalent of $186,000 today, a princely sum for a butcher's helper!

This little episode is a good a place to start to look at what was happening in Fairfield during the Depression.  Hard times hit different groups differently.  The very rich had resources to weather the immediate conditions, but were certainly affected by economic uncertainty. The very poor in the Depression felt hardship, but if you were part of a group that was accustomed to deprivation, this was no more than a little bit worse than before.

The folks in the middle, those who had prospered in the many new industries in Bridgeport and surrounding areas, were feeling the pinch the most.  With each year, from 1930 to 1939, the number of Fairfield families on relief grew and grew, until the town was nearly broke.  In 1935, the town had budgeted $75,000 for welfare, which it amended during the year while more families were added to the rolls.  Fewer people were  able to afford gasoline, much less a new car.  It's interesting to note that Annie B. and her brother Oliver G. Jennings made their fortune in the oil business, a major source of revenues for oil companies.

Zmindak's scheme is hardly representative of what people were doing to get by, but it does show the desperation that many felt in the harder years of the Depression. As it turned out, his plans did not quite work out.  What he did not know is that far from being stubborn, Annie B. did react when she received this letter, and the one before it, by handing them over to her attorney, who immediately alerted the Federal authorities.  Federal agents decided to bait him by posting that ad in the Times Star, and sent an agent posing as a chauffeur with a dummy package to a spot in Beardsley Park where Zmindak had instructed it to be dropped.  They stationed agents in the park, where they found him, arrested and charged him with extortion.

Today, as then, economic hardship displays itself unevenly across society.  A few weeks ago, The Connecticut Labor Department's research division reported that unemployment has hit the usual ethnic, age and gender groups harder than others (blacks and Latinos suffer more than whites, men and women 16 to 19 are hit harder than those not in that group).  And the current situation is certainly drawing comparisons to the Depression, although it hasn't reached that point yet.

On Annie B.'s death, she directed that her magnificent estate, Sunnie-Holme, be torn down. She knew how expensive the place was to maintain while she was living, and did not want it to become a blight on the community that she loved.

Today you have to look carefully for signs of its once-spectacular gardens and foundations that at one time stretched from Old Post Road (her house was #375) all the way to the shore. To get a peek at what is left of those gardens, drive down Beach Road and turn left on Sunnie Holme Drive (see pictures).  It's a short loop that encircles a grassy area with a terraced stone structure.  All that is left of the garden itself are several handsome trees, some of them overrun with vines. In 1934, just a year before, she had donated a 16-acre block of land that hugged the beach to the Town to be used as a public park.  That section forms what is known today as Jennings Beach.

The 1930s signaled gradual changes in society, including the attitude toward the rich.  On Annie B.'s death, most citizens spoke kindly of the lady who contributed so much to the town.  But one did not:  Mrs. Zmindak.  She cried, not for Jennings, but for her son, who was serving a 10-year prison sentence for extortion, and felt that Annie could have helped him.   A mother can be expected to side with her son, but she was in the minority.