Monday, Oct. 09, 1950

The Great Ford Swindle

To the prosperous farmers of Illinois' rural Fulton County, it sounded like a gilt-edged business opportunity: Henry Ford was planning to build a huge soybean processing plant at nearby Canton if local people exhibited their faith in the enterprise by buying a factory site. Many a farmer shelled out forthwith, and the investors were soon rewarded for their faith. Ford, they were told, had simply been testing them. To escape inheritance taxes, he had decided to divide his vast fortune among poor and worthy people--if they now wanted to invest further, he would issue certificates which would repay them up to 350 to 1.

As years passed, many a farmer pumped small fortunes into the scheme. Some, like 65-year-old Sherman Duryea (who got "Ford" certificates supposedly worth $463,637) not only sank all their savings, but were drafted into promoting it. The swindlers gave Duryea four safes, told him they contained $85 million in cash, and instructed him to guard them with his life. Since he did not know they were stuffed with old newspapers, this made him a wonderful salesman.

"Grandmother Is Sick." The fact that Henry Ford died in 1947, and that two of the original sponsors of the enterprise were sent to prison last year for mail fraud in connection with the swindle, only speeded up collections. Mrs. Marie Fuller, grandmotherly operator of a Canton beauty parlor, had been, a sort of silent partner in the conspiracy. She began operating more openly, and at the same time the investors began getting letters, telegrams and telephone calls from someone who announced himself as "Benson Ford."

"Benson" was so gratifyingly folksy and approachable, that the heart of the farmers warmed to him immediately. At one point "Benson" wrote to the investors asking them for $2,000--supposedly to be used as a political bribe. "Kids," his letter began, "this [man] says he will lay off for the sum of $2,000, so I know it is lots of guts to ask you, but. . ." The money was raised. At another point "Benson" asked a 53-year-old Canton plumber to get his blood tested. "Grandmother is sick," said Benson over the telephone, "and William and I have given our blood and are about done . . ." He also promised one Sally Onken (a $12,000 investor) a yellow convertible with "foldaway steps just like Margaret Truman's."

Grandmother Wept. Not until a few weeks ago, ten years after the golden opportunity had first been offered, did one victim finally think of going to Detroit to check up on the great Ford share-the-wealth plan. When he got home, he went to the police. A few days later, the cops caught Marie Fuller impersonating the baritone "Benson" over the telephone. They raided her apartment, found stacks of spurious Ford Motor Co. stationery and the records of the conspiracy: $1,300 from one 66-year-old pensioner, $81,000 from the plumber, $110,000 from two farmers--more than $200,000 in all.

Last week Marie, her husband and three other men were indicted by a grand jury on charges of bilking their neighbors, and the state's attorney began trying to untangle the knotted threads of the great Ford swindle. The beauty operator wept. "I've lived in terror the last two years," she complained. "My life has been a hell."

This file is automatically generated by a robot program, so reader's discretion is required.