Originally published in 1939
Some of this information may no longer be current and in that case is presented for historical interest only.
Edited by GET NJ, COPYRIGHT 2003

The visitor may tire physically of the boardwalk, but he seldom leaves it. More than a dozen business firms and the city provide pavilions and benches where visitors may watch the passing show or gaze into the vastness of the ocean.

Thirsts are quenched at automatic soda fountains where a nickel in the slot sets in motion the mechanism that puts a paper cup abruptly under a spout that stops flowing when the fluid is exactly one-quarter of an inch from the top of the cup. The drinker has his choice of loganberry, chocolate, cherry, lemon and lime, fruit punch, La Pep, champagne ("nonalcoholic," the sign adds apologetically), root beer, ginger ale and grape.

Many continue the procession in rolling chairs, propelled mostly by Negroes, who are not paid for waiting time but only for every hour they push. Tips -- the uppermost consideration of the 14,000 summer workers in Atlantic City -- mean more to these men than to almost any other workers. Cryptically, they call a small tip "a thin one" and none at all "a flat."

The miles of fine white sand eventually draw the majority of visitors away from the miles of tough gray planks for a sun bath or a turn in the surf. The universal appeal of the sea, the tang and smell of salt water and sea air are probably the resort's most valuable possessions. The wide strip of white sandy beach is dotted with cabanas, umbrellas, beach chairs, and gaily togged bathers against the deep green of the Atlantic and the turquoise sky. The corps of 71 trained lifeguards is none too many when a Sunday crowd swells the beach population to more than 500,000.

The half dozen amusement piers extend well out into the ocean at wide intervals. "A vacation in itself" is the slogan of the largest pier; "six-ring circus" would describe the piers more accurately. One admission price admits the pleasure-seeker to any or all the goings-on: two moving picture houses with entirely different shows, a vaudeville house, science exhibits, a deep-sea diving horse, health talks, a chamber of horrors, a zoo devoted to baby animals, and a dozen or so other attractions. When eyes and legs grow weary, indoor rest rooms and outdoor solaria provide comfortable deck chairs.

Few visitors pass up the everlasting joy of selecting souvenirs and forget-Atlantic City-nots. First place among mementoes goes to various knickknacks made of suedelike yellow leather-purses, memorandum books, hanging receptacles for whisk brooms, moccasins, and handkerchief boxes. All, of course, are inscribed Atlantic City; each souvenir store is equipped with tools that can engrave Atlantic City on anything from the back of a turtle to a steel plate. Next in popularity are seashells ranging from common clams to exotic crenulated oddities.

Young honeymooners are the most lavish buyers of mementoes. They buy something for everyone back home and have each piece suitably inscribed: "To Mother, from Anna and Joe" ; "To Grandma, from Anna and Joe"; "To Brother Pete, from Anna and Joe," and so on down the family tree. One favorite item is a gaudy pillow slip embroidered with a picture of a little cottage surrounded by flowers growing out of an orange lawn cut down the center by a green path. Beneath the cottage scene is an appropriate bit of verse:

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