televised Senate investigation into mob corruption in the government. Housewives abandoned their chores, businessmen canceled meetings, people without television sets of their own crowded into TV-equipped bars. No one wanted to miss a minute of the unfolding scandal. Harrison, who at the time was churning out girlie magazines with names like
Wink, Titter,
and
Eyeful,
was so broke that he was posing as a cop or an irate husband for pictures in his own magazines to save the modeling fee. Harrison decided to try a different kind of titillation. “The daddy of
Confidential,
although he’d be shocked to know it, is Senator Estes Kefauver,” said Harrison. “Behind-the-scenes stories. Inside, gossipy facts, it became clear that’s what America wanted.” The publisher was a fan of Walter Winchell’s column; he took the gossip column format and combined it with the shocking exposé flavor of the Kefauver hearings, and in December 1952, began cranking out
Confidential
every other month. “People like to read about things they don’t dare do themselves,” Harrison said. “And if you can print these things about public figures, so much better.” The scandal magazine was born.
Confidential’
s initial press run was only 150,000. Harrison didn’t have the budget to publicize or get good distribution for his lurid tabloid. In 1953, he had a brainstorm. Walter Winchell—although still the most powerful gossip columnist ever—was starting to lose his grip on America. Winchell was desperately trying to break into the new medium of television, but the transition wasn’t going smoothly. His look, his sensibilities, his causes, all seemed hopelessly mired in the past. In a desperate bid to preserve the old order that once had made him a success, Winchell made some dreadful misjudgments. His most notorious blunder was in 1951. When Josephine Baker accused Stork Club owner Sherman Billingsley of racism by giving her slow and sloppy service, Winchell sided with his old friend Billingsley. The controversy brought widespread attack from the liberal crowd that hadalways been Winchell’s mainstay. As he became more isolated, Winchell lashed out against his enemies and embraced his allies. Harrison had worked as a copyboy at the ribald New York
Mirror
when Winchell was writing his “Broadway Hearsay” column for the tabloid; he knew the way Winchell operated and decided that even in his weakened state, Winchell could be a powerful friend. Harrison started running articles in
Confidential
to curry favor with the embattled columnist. “Winchell Was Right About Josephine Baker!”
Confidential
declared in its January 1953 issue. “Walter Winchell was virtually the only newspaperman in America who had the guts to stick out his chin and tell the world what a phony Josephine Baker was when she provoked the now-famous ‘Stork Club Incident’ last winter. For his pains, Winchell became an international target for charges of discrimination.”
As soon as the article came off the presses, Harrison rushed over to Winchell’s office with a copy. “He just loved it,” Harrison recalled. Winchell flogged
Confidential
on his television show, holding up the magazine for the camera and urging his viewers to run out and buy an issue. “From then on, this thing flew,” said Harrison. “We started running a Winchell piece every issue. We’d try to figure out who Winchell didn’t like and run a piece on them.”
Confidential
printed articles like “How Winchell Saved a Man from the Commie Kiss of Death” and “Broadway’s Biggest Double Cross,” which told about people whose career Winchell helped launch, only to have the person turn against him. “We kept plugging
Confidential,”
Harrison said. “It got to the point where some days we would sit down and rack our brains trying to think of somebody else Winchell didn’t like. We were running out of people, for Christ’s sake!” Winchell brought
Confidential
to the attention of the