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It's February 1922 in Albuquerque, New Mexico. D.F. Stackelbeck is sitting in the offices of the local daily newspaper, the Albuquerque Morning Journal. He's watching the clock tick as he waits to meet with the editor.
Stackelbeck is a reporter for the Denver Post, a newspaper based some 500 miles north, but he's traveled south today to follow up on a tip concerning former New Mexico Senator Albert Fall. About a year ago, Fall was appointed Secretary of the Interior, the cabinet position responsible for protecting and managing the country's natural resources. But recently, Stackelbeck's bosses at the Denver Post received some evidence suggesting that Fall might be abusing his office.
According to a disgruntled former employee, Fall has been handing out oil leases to his friends, quote, like kisses at a wedding. And if this is true, it means the country's resources are being stolen out from under the nose of the American public, and they have a right to know about it. So Stackelbeck was dispatched by his editors to sniff around Fall's home state and see what he can find out. And he believes that the man he's about to meet, Carl McGee, has more dirt on Fall than just about anyone.
For the past two years, McGee has been the owner and editor of the Morning Journal in Albuquerque. And in that time, the paper has devoted a considerable amount of space to investigating its former owner, Albert Fall. But since Stackelbeck works for a rival paper, he suspects McGee isn't likely to give up information too easily. Stackelbeck will probably have to give McGee something in return. And that might mean sharing the biggest scoop of his career.
Growing tired of watching the clock, Stackelbeck finally hears his name called and turns to see McGee standing at the open door of his office. McGee waves him over and follows him inside. As they settle into a pair of office chairs, McGee lights up a cheap cigar and exhales toward the ceiling.
So, Mr. Stackelbeck, what can I do for you? Well, I'm interested in Albert Fall. We're working on a story about him at the Denver Post, and he used to run your paper, so I'm hoping you could give me some information. McGee shoots Stackelbeck a curious look.
Fall, huh? Well, you know, he's got quite the reputation around here. Yeah, so I've gathered. I imagine he hasn't been too happy with what you've been printing about him. No, I can't say that he has been. In fact, he stormed right into my office once and threatened to run me out of town.
That was after we wrote about some of the backroom deals he had going on, public schools and the state land office. Of course, Fall had not expected that kind of criticism when he sold the paper, and he threw a little tantrum over it right here in the newsroom. I bet that was a sight to see. Oh, it sure was. But let me ask you something, Mr. Stackelbeck. You didn't come all the way to New Mexico for a little color on Fall's character. I mean, you can read that in the journal. So why don't you tell me why you're really here?
Stackelbeck hesitates a moment. He doesn't want to reveal what he's working on, but this may be his only chance to get McGee to open up. Well, okay, here's the situation. We got a tip suggesting that since Fall became Interior Secretary, he's been handing out oil leases to friends. Presumably, these would be on federally protected lands, which makes it a pretty sensitive story if it's true.
Would you happen to know anything about that? McGee leans back to consider the question, puffing on his cigar. Well, yeah, that is very interesting, and it would make sense. I mean, I can tell you this. You might want to start looking into Falls Finances for sure. Back when I bought the journal, I spent some time with him on his ranch. We had a few drinks, and he spilled his guts. Told me he was broke. Said it's been years since he's even paid taxes on the place.
But now I hear he's starting to make some, well, some very expensive improvements. How expensive are we talking about? Oh, I don't know how much, but it seems like the work has only recently begun. It strikes me as curious, though, that after he told me just three years ago he was dead broke. It is curious. Would you mind if I took a look? I wouldn't mind at all. In fact, that's why I told you. Well, thank you for your time, Mr. McGee.
The two men stand and shake hands. And as he makes his way out of the office, Stackelbeck tries to think about the meaning behind what he's just learned. It could be that Fall is not just handing out oil leases to his friends, but that he's getting paid to do so. So before he leaves Albuquerque, Stackelbeck is going to look further into Albert Fall's finances. If he really is suddenly flush with cash, Stackelbeck can trace that money back to one of Fall's friends in the oil business, and his editors back in Denver are going to be thrilled.
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From Wondery, I'm Lindsey Graham, and this is American Scandal.
In the lead-up to the 1921 election, Warren G. Harding promised the country he'd bring a return to normalcy. If elected, he said he'd balance two of the country's competing impulses, its need for conservation and its desire for development. Privately, Harding had another agenda.
His campaign for the Republican Party had been bankrolled by powerful oil tycoons who were keen to get their hands on three federally protected oil fields, Elk Hills and Buena Vista in California and Teapot Dome in Wyoming. Some 300 million barrels of oil was ready to be tapped under these fields. But it was all controlled by the Navy Department and off-limits to private drilling.
So when Harding won the election, he appointed a Secretary of the Interior who could take control of these lands and make good on the promises made to Harding's wealthy benefactors. The person Harding found was Albert Fall. In his first few months in office, Fall took control of the Navy's oil reserves
And then, without public announcement or competitive bidding, he quietly leased the drilling rights to oil tycoons Harry Sinclair and Edward Doheny. In return, they paid him off with money, livestock, and the promise of a lucrative job as soon as he left government. But when news of the deals got out, Fall and his benefactors were forced to go on the defensive. They'd have to fight against muckraking journalists, a Senate investigation, and other disgruntled oil men looking to settle scores.
This is Episode 2, Boiling Over. It's spring 1922 in Colorado, and in downtown Denver, Leo Stack marches into the office of the Denver Post. Stack is an independent oil man, one of many who had staked out a preliminary claim on the Teapot Dome field in Wyoming. But Stack has just been told that he no longer holds that claim as it's been sold out from under him without his knowledge or consent.
So he's heading to the Denver Post, hoping the paper will be interested in his story. Its publishers, Frederick Bonfils and H.H. Tammen, have a reputation for helping the little guys take on the big guys, and Stack wants to take on one of the biggest names in the oil business. A receptionist ushers him into the office of the publishers, where Bonfils offers him a chair and asks Stack what they can do for him. Stack replies he needs their help settling a score with Harry Sinclair.
Bonfils and Tammen exchange a quick glance. Then Tammen asks Stack to tell him exactly what sort of score. Stack explains that, like many small-time oil men, he had staked a claim on a small part of the Teapot Dome fields in Wyoming, which is said to be one of the richest oil fields in the country. But at present, nobody is allowed to drill there because the land is owned and controlled by the U.S. Navy. If that were ever to change, suddenly his claim would be worth a lot of money.
But earlier today, Stack found out that his claim had been sold to Harry Sinclair without his permission. And all he's been offered in return is a check for $50,000, which is far less than he estimates his claim is worth. Bonfils leans forward and asks Stack to explain something. How could someone sell Stack's claim without his permission? Stack clarifies that the claim wasn't completely his. He had a 10% stake in a claim owned by the Pioneer Oil Company.
They brokered the deal with Sinclair, and they were the ones who got paid for it. But it was such a low amount, they gave it all up for just a million dollars. Bond fees and Tammen exchange another glance, and then Tammen smiles as he tells Stack that this is a classic case of a big company ripping off the little guy, and it might be a great story. Stack is relieved that the publishers have caught on so quickly, and that they seemed energized by his cause.
So Stack cuts to the chase, telling the two men that he's not a powerful or rich man. He just wants a fair share of what's rightly his. And if the paper could put some public pressure on Sinclair, he might be willing to pay out more on the claim just to keep the story out of the papers. Stack even offers to share a cut of whatever he's able to get with Bonfils and Tammen for their cooperation.
Bonfils asks if Stack has a contract with Pioneer, and if he does, they'd certainly like to take a look at it, along with the Post's attorney. Stack says that's not a problem, and they'll send it over first thing in the morning. Leo Stack's visit to the Denver Post provided H.H. Tammen and Frederick Bonfils with the missing piece to a puzzle they'd already been trying to put together themselves, ever since they sent reporter D.F. Stackelbeck to New Mexico to look into the finances of Interior Secretary Albert Fall.
Stackelbeck had returned with information suggesting that Fall suddenly found new revenue streams. But until Leo Stack walked into their office, the publishers had not confirmed where that cash had come from. Now the last piece has fallen into place. And it looks like Harry Sinclair paid Fall for exclusive drilling rights to the Teapot Dome oil field, with no competitive bidding or any public announcement.
If true, the deal is likely illegal, and Tammen and Bonfils are hoping that word about these backdoor dealings is potentially so damaging that Sinclair will pay up to keep it from reaching the public.
So after confirming that Stack's claim with the Pioneer Oil Company is legitimate, the publishers cut a deal with him. They'll begin to run stories about Teapot Dome while demanding $1 million from Sinclair in exchange for more favorable coverage. If Sinclair pays up, half will go to Stack and the rest to Bonfils and Tammet. But before the ink has dried on their agreement, another newspaper breaks the story.
On April 14, 1922, the same day that the Denver Post agrees to take on Sinclair, the Wall Street Journal runs a front-page story about the teapot deal. Sourced by an unnamed official within the Interior Department, the piece details how the government leased lands from the U.S. Naval Reserve to Sinclair's mammoth oil company.
The story calls the deal a notable departure from previous administrations, pointing out that naval oil reserves had always been entirely off-limits to private business deals. The next day, the Denver Post runs its first editorial attacking this teapot dome deal, calling it one of the baldest public land grabs in history. And when the news of the media attention reaches Albert Fall at his Three Rivers Ranch in New Mexico, he's livid.
His plan was to announce the Teapot Dome and Elk Hill leases simultaneously as done deals so the conservationists wouldn't have the opportunity to object. Now he's forced to go into damage control. Fall paces, mulling over his next move. Then he marches over to the phone and calls Assistant Secretary of the Interior Edward Finney. Fall left Finney in charge as Acting Secretary back in Washington, with specific orders to keep these lease deals with Doheny and Sinclair under wraps.
So as soon as Finney picks up, Fall shouts into the phone, demanding to know who leaked the story to the Wall Street Journal. Finney tells his boss he has no idea. And if that's the case, Fall has no option but just to get ahead of the story. So he orders Finney to wrap up Edward Doheny's contract for the Pearl Harbor Oil Storage Facility, which was the last remaining piece of the Elk Hills deal. After that, Finney should draw up a press release so they can officially announce both Teapot Dome and Elk Hills.
Finney says he'll do whatever Fall needs him to do, but asks if a press release is the best response, adding that the Denver Post is already saying a congressional investigation is needed to avert a scandal. Fall just scoffs, reassuring Finney that that language is just typical press hyperbole, nothing to worry about.
But Finney lowers his voice when he mentions another issue, a whisper campaign going on in Washington. Some officials in the Interior Department are suggesting that these leases may be illegal. They're saying it might be a good idea to get Attorney General Harry Doherty to take a look at the contracts. Hearing this, Fall reaches for a bottle and pours himself a whiskey. The last thing he needs is for Doherty to start sniffing around. He's as crooked as they come and will probably only demand a cut of the action.
So Fall reminds Finney that he knows a lot more about oil law than the Attorney General ever will, and orders Finney to do exactly as he's instructed. Then Fall slams down the phone and takes a breath. The situation is bad, but it's still nothing he can't handle. When he returns to Washington, he knows questions will be waiting for him, but he'll be ready to answer them. As news of the Teapot Dome lease spreads across the country, tempers start to flare, especially among the oil men of Wyoming.
For years, they've had one of the country's richest oil reserves sitting right in their backyard. And for just as long, they've been told it's off-limits. So when they hear that Harry Sinclair has been given exclusive drilling rights on Teapot Dome, they're furious. And they want to know how such a deal was made right under their noses. The person on the receiving end of these questions is Wyoming Senator John Kendrick.
In April 1922, Senator Kendrick is at a steakhouse in Sheridan, Wyoming, having dinner with his friend and constituent, an independent oil producer named Leslie Miller. Usually, their meals together are relaxed affairs, but tonight the atmosphere is tense. Just after their food arrives, Miller abruptly sets down his knife and fork.
"'Nah, I'm sorry, John. It just gets my goat, you know? "'I guess I don't know. What are we talking about? "'Sinclair. He's got his oil trucks driving in a teapot as we speak, "'and me and the rest of the locals have to just sit and watch. "'You're sure no one told you this was happening?' "'This? No, I am telling you, Leslie, I had no idea.' "'But how is that possible? You're a senator.' "'Well, that's the truth. I was not involved in any way, "'and I assure you, it doesn't sit right with me either. "'I can't tell you how many times I tried to get drilling rights on that land.'
But I was told time and again it was impossible, reserved for national emergencies. So how is it Harry Sinclair ended up with the whole damn thing? Well, I've been asking that same question myself. Well, good, because think about how your constituents feel. The oil is on our land, and none of us were even given a chance to bid. I agree. It does seem unfair. So why don't you demand some answers? Wyoming's your state, for God's sake.
And if you weren't included in any of the decision-making, I think you should consider this a personal affront. Well, you know, Leslie, when I first learned about this, I was disconcerted. It did seem a little unfair. But the Interior Department and working with the Navy came to this solution. But now that you mention it, that I didn't have a seat at the table, that no one even brought it to my attention, that is a personal affront. Damn right it is. And that's why I'm thinking now, as soon as I get back to Washington, I'm going to launch a full-scale investigation.
Albert Fall needs to explain why this deal was made and how it could possibly be in the public interest. Miller smiles grimly and begins cutting into his steak. Well, now you're talking, Senator. Now you're talking. Senator Kendrick picks up his wine glass and takes a sip, pondering his next move.
Launching a Senate investigation is no easy task. He'll need support from several of his fellow senators, and even then there's no guarantee they'll find anything that will satisfy Leslie Miller or any of Kendrick's many other constituents in the oil business. But failing to act could also cost Kendrick his seat in the Senate, so he's going to have to prepare himself for a showdown with Albert Fong.
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When Wyoming Senator John Kendrick returns to Washington in April 1922, he introduces a resolution in the Senate demanding a full accounting of the teapot deal from both Albert Fall and the Secretary of the Navy, Edwin Denby.
The Department of the Interior responds a few days later with a press release formally announcing the leases of the Teapot Dome, Elk Hills, and Buena Vista oil reserves to Harry Sinclair and Edward Doheny. The statement claims this new policy of opening the federal reserves to private enterprise will assure the Navy permanent oil storage above ground.
The release fails to mention, though, the vast profits Sinclair and Doheny stand to make, or why there was no competitive bidding for the leases. And there's certainly no mention of the money Fall has privately received from the millionaire oil men. But instead of diffusing the controversy, this announcement sparks even more criticism from both the press and Washington officials, especially those in conservationist circles.
Progressive Wisconsin Senator Robert La Follette takes up the charge from his fellow Democrat John Kendrick. He's certain that Harding's executive order authorizing the transfer of naval reserves to the interior is illegal. So with the backing of conservationist leader Gifford Pinchot, La Follette submits a Senate resolution on April 28th demanding an investigation of Falls' leases.
This resolution passes by a unanimous vote the following day, and Fall is ordered to release any and all documents related to the deals. When word reaches Fall at his Three Rivers Ranch in New Mexico, he isn't terribly concerned. Given the Republican majority in the Senate, the investigation seems unlikely to gain traction.
So Fall tells the press he welcomes the investigation. But when he returns to Washington in early May, he has no intention of cooperating. Instead, he begins to cover his tracks and drown investigators in paperwork.
First, Fall drafts a 75-page report, explaining and validating all his actions, and then turns it over to President Harding. It's an overwhelming mess of geological data and jumbled legalese that Fall knows the president is unlikely to read, let alone comprehend.
But with the report in hand, Harding writes a letter to the Senate stating that he's reviewed the leasing plan and given it his complete approval, even though he didn't receive Fall's report until after the reserves had already been leased.
Next, Fall offers up some 12,000 pages of lease-related material to the Investigative Committee on Public Lands and Surveys. It's clear to many on Capitol Hill that Fall's strategy is to confuse and overwhelm anyone who tries to investigate him, and it works. When Senators Kendrick and La Follette see what a time-consuming nightmare this investigation might be, they decide to pass it on to a colleague, Montana Democratic Senator Thomas Walsh.
Walsh does not want the job. Like many Westerners, he distrusts conservationists, and he's sympathetic to using public lands for profit. He also has more committee assignments than anyone else in the Senate. But Walsh is also widely considered to be the best constitutional lawyer in the Senate, too. He's carved out a reputation as a dedicated, tireless worker, and Democratic leaders in the Senate have convinced him that the teapot deal is potentially illegal.
So eventually, Walsh agrees to take the case. As Walsh begins his investigation, Albert Fall returns to Washington, not to answer any questions before the Senate, but to tie up the loose ends on his personal deal with Harry Sinclair. Fall knows that all his contact with Sinclair is now subject to scrutiny, so he enlists the help of his son-in-law, Malin Everhart. Everhart manages Fall's ranch in New Mexico and is in Washington for his mother's funeral.
So on May 8th, Fall instructs Everhart to meet him at his D.C. apartment. Fall escorts Everhart into his office and closes the door.
Well, thanks for coming, Malin. And again, my condolences. Your mother was a lovely woman. Thank you, sir. Well, what is it I can do for you? Well, it's a rather delicate bit of business that requires your utmost discretion. Well, of course, whatever you need, I'll take care of it. I'd like you to make a visit to Harry Sinclair. As we speak, he's in his private train car at the Washington Rail Yard. He's expecting you.
Sinclair will be giving you a large payment that we've already agreed upon, and you're to bring that back here and then deliver it to New Mexico. I see. That sounds pretty straightforward, so out of curiosity, may I ask what the payment's for? Well, you may recall when Sinclair visited the ranch last year. I do, and I recall the livestock and the racehorse he gave you.
Generous man. That he is. Suffice to say, Sinclair was so impressed with the property that he wanted to invest in it. So I'm selling him a third for just over $230,000. You'll be picking up the first installment. Everhart frowns. What, is there a problem? No, sir, it just seems like an odd request. And how so? Why don't you meet Sinclair yourself? Why the need for such discretion? Fall hesitates, trying to decide how much to confide in his son-in-law.
Malin is a good man, and he's done an admirable job managing Falls Ranch. But there's no sense involving him in a deal that he might not understand. Well, it's this teapot dome business that's in the papers. Sinclair's name has been dragged into it, and, well, it's best that I avoid even the appearance of wrongdoing. But I assure you, tonight's task is strictly a financial arrangement between friends. Still, some might look at it the wrong way, so, well, you understand. Oh, I do, sir. Good man. And, uh, one last thing.
Everhart's eyes narrow, but he doesn't press the issue. Everhart nods, and the two men shake hands. Then Fall sends him on his way.
As soon as Everhart is gone, fall begins pacing, a nervous habit he's begun indulging in more and more these days. He hates entrusting such a large sum of cash to anyone, even family, but he has no choice. Because on the off chance the teapot investigation gains traction, he can't be seen anywhere near Harry Sinclair.
After his meeting with Albert Fall, Malin Everhart hops in a taxi and makes the trip to the Washington rail yard, where he meets Harry Sinclair and his private car as planned. As Everhart looks on, Sinclair counts out nearly $200,000 in Liberty Bonds, and as instructed, Everhart provides no receipt or IOU. He then delivers the bundle to Fall, who carefully counts out the $500,000 and $1,000 bond notes.
Then Fall sends Everhart back to New Mexico with the money in hand. To Fall, it appears that he has everything under control. The leases have all been signed, he's begun collecting his money from Sinclair, and Senator Thomas Walsh's Senate investigation seems to be at a standstill, buried in paperwork. But then, in the summer of 1922, a problem arises.
Word reaches fall that one of President Harding's old poker buddies, Colonel James Darden, has begun drilling at Teapot Dome. It turns out that Darden holds a claim on 160 acres that predates Sinclair's lease of the teapot field. For years, Darden's claim was unenforceable, since the oil there was federally protected. But once Darden heard that Sinclair was drilling a teapot, he saw no reason why he shouldn't also be allowed to exercise his claim.
Upon hearing this, Fall marches straight into the Oval Office and demands that Harding send U.S. Marines to forcibly remove Darden's operation from Teapot. President Harding would rather not get involved. With his extramarital love life, increasingly heavy drinking, and numerous other political problems, Harding has more than enough to deal with. But in an effort to avoid a larger conflict, Harding pleads with Darden to back down.
But Darden refuses. And after several failed attempts to negotiate, Harding agrees to send in a very limited number of troops.
That August, five Marines march onto Teapot Dome. And after a brief face-off with Darden's rig foreman, the military wins the day. But the issue is far from settled, because a reporter from the Denver Post followed the Marines to Teapot. And his coverage of the confrontation raises even more questions about the legality of false oil leases. For Harry Sinclair, all this attention is testing his patience.
The Denver Post has been hammering him for months with negative editorials about his business dealings, with one going so far as to claim that Sinclair was handed the lease through trickery that verges on the bounds of crime. And what irritates Sinclair the most is that he knows the publishers of the Denver Post aren't actually motivated by a pursuit of the truth. They want a payoff.
Denver Post owners Frederick Bonfies and H.H. Tammen had reached out to Sinclair earlier that summer, demanding a meeting. On behalf of independent oil man Leo Stack, they demanded $1 million to right the wrong of Sinclair's backroom deal with the Interior Department. Only then, said the publishers, would they stop running stories, cartoons, and editorials attacking Sinclair and questioning the legality of the Teapot Dome lease.
But Sinclair refused to pay a cent. He'd already paid $1 million to Pioneer Oil for the claim, so if Stack was owed by anyone, it was Pioneer. The failure of negotiations led the Denver Post to ramp up their attacks on Sinclair. Among other things, the paper claimed to have a witness to a payoff Sinclair made to Fall. Sinclair kept his ground and wouldn't pay up.
But after all the negative press from sending Marines to Teapot, Sinclair has a change of heart. In late summer 1922, he invites Denver Post publisher Frederick Bonfils to his private office suite at an exclusive club in Kansas City to hammer out a deal. The two men sit down across from each other at an expansive oak table with their lawyers at their sides. Sinclair starts things off commenting that $1 million is a hell of a lot of money.
Bonfils agrees it's indeed a lot of money, but he says it's a fair price because in addition to doing right by Stack, the money will stop the Denver Post's war against Sinclair. And in this way, a million dollars might be a bargain. Sinclair smiles wryly, noting how kind they must be to go through all of this just to help poor Leo Stack. Then he asks how much of that million will be going into the publisher's pockets.
Bonfils stares back, expressionless, and doesn't answer. Sinclair says that's fine. He doesn't need to know where the money's going. But assuming Stack is getting most of it, a low-time oil man like him should be more than happy with just $100,000. And then Sinclair leans back in his chair and watches for a reaction.
But still, Bonfils says nothing. After a pause, his lawyer speaks up, calmly asking if someone came to Sinclair with an opportunity as valuable as Teapot Dome, would he pay less than $1 million for it? Sinclair considers the point. Teapot Dome will likely yield hundreds of millions of dollars. In a payoff now, we'll get the Denver Post off his back. So Sinclair leans forward, and now with a genuine smile, he notes that maybe their demand isn't so outrageous.
Sinclair says he assumes that if they can agree to such a deal, in the future the Post will not only stop the negative press, but look kindly upon him in future stories. Now it's Bonfils' turn to smile. He assures Sinclair that that's exactly what $1 million would buy. Sinclair lifts a hand to shake with Bonfils. He tells them they have an understanding, and he offers to pour the newspaper publisher a drink while the lawyers draw up the paperwork.
As Sinclair sips his whiskey, he reflects on where things stand. Albert Fall is firmly in his pocket. Drilling a teapot dome is underway. And now he's silenced his harshest critics in the press. Soon the public will lose interest in the so-called teapot dome scandal. And all of this will blow over. The only thing left to worry about is Thomas Walsh's Senate investigation.
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By 1923, after two years as president, the stress of the job begins catching up with Warren Harding. He's chronically tense and has trouble sleeping. Some of his advisors fear that his alcohol consumption is increasing and his mental faculties seem to be suffering. During one speech on a visit to Alaska, he repeatedly calls the state Nebraska.
The Alaska trip is part of a longer journey across the western United States, which stretches throughout the summer of 1923. And the lengthy itinerary takes its toll on Harding's health. On August 2nd, at a hotel in San Francisco, the president dies suddenly at the age of 57, likely from a heart attack. Vice President Calvin Coolidge is quickly sworn in as his replacement and left to deal with the fallout of the Harding administration's many scandals, including Teapot Dome.
But for the time being, Washington's interest in the teapot deal seems to have cooled. And that's a problem for the Senate's lead investigator, Thomas Walsh. When Walsh first agreed to take on the inquiry more than a year ago, he had the support of a small but passionate group of colleagues who assured him they'd be available to assist with the investigation. But now that the hearings are only weeks away, those supporters are nowhere to be found. Each of them comes up with a convenient excuse as to why they're too busy to lend a hand.
So in the fall of 1923, as Walsh makes his final preparations for the hearings, only one person is there with him: John Holland, a young law clerk. They sit together in Walsh's office, sifting through boxes of files and documents. Walsh is rummaging through one when he hears a loud thud behind him. He turns and sees Holland with his head buried in his hands. He's just slammed a stack of papers down on his desk.
Hey, John, take a break. You know, it's been a long day. This is a waste of time. We've been sorting through all this junk for more than a year. We've got nothing to show for it. John, I know it's frustrating, but we're running out of time and we need to keep going. Even if we do, no one's paying attention anymore. Everyone who was supposed to be here helping has left. Senator Kendrick, conveniently at his ranch in Wyoming. La Follette and the conservationists, they've all lost interest. Even reporters are saying this is a nothing story.
Walsh listens patiently as Holland vents. The stress has been getting to him, too. "'Well, of course you're right. We're stuck with a thankless job, but you said it yourself months ago. Fall was clearly trying to overwhelm us with all this paperwork. And why would he do that if he didn't have anything to hide? But there's no point. Fall's no longer even the Interior Secretary. He resigned months ago. Why are we bothering to do this?'
Walsh's cheeks flush as he loses his patience. It's one thing to have Republicans on the committee try to derail the investigation before it happens, but now it's his own assistant. Why bother? Fall is now working for Harry Sinclair, who happens to be extracting 150 million barrels of oil from federal land. The corruption is so blatant, it's almost absurd. Holland stares out the window, avoiding Walsh's stare. Walsh continues.
Walsh lifts a box onto his desk and starts thumbing through the files. He pulls out a thick document and waves it in the air.
Remember this? It's Fall's report to Harding on the leases. 75 pages of absolute gibberish. He was looking for any excuse he could find to take over that land. And why? I don't know. Well, look, there was a point when I didn't want anything to do with this investigation. I couldn't believe that someone like Albert Fall would abuse his position. But after this report, and what I've heard from the Navy and countless others, I'm convinced something is off here. We cannot lose sight of that now. And you know I can't do this alone.
Holland looks up at Walsh and sighs. I just feel like we need more time. Well, I do too, but there's nothing we can do about that now. Let's grab some lunch, go over the questions we have for fall so far. Then we can work on the list of any other witnesses we need to subpoena. We've got to keep moving forward, step by step. Sounds good, sir.
As Holland gets up to grab his jacket, Walsh pats him on the back. It's true they've still got a long way to go before they can prove Fall did anything wrong. But in his heart, Walsh does feel like Fall is guilty of something. And with Holland's help, he's going to find the truth. The Teapot Dome hearings finally kick off on October 15th, 1923 in the Senate Committee on Public Lands. But so few members of the committee show up that lawmakers decide to postpone the hearing by eight days.
This is not a good sign in Thomas Walsh's eyes. It seems apathetic, but it's also understandable. Warren Harding is dead. Albert Fall has stepped down as Secretary of the Interior. The press has moved on to other scandals. And the Republican leadership on the committee seems determined to sweep the whole mess away and protect Harry Sinclair in any way they can.
Sinclair has contributed millions to GOP campaigns and causes. Republicans don't want to see one of their biggest benefactors wind up in jail. So when the hearings officially begin on October 23rd, the committee's Republican chairman, Senator Reed Smoot of Utah, seems determined to prove that Fall and Sinclair acted entirely in the public's best interest.
Smoot starts the hearings with a report from a pair of geologists who he had privately hired to investigate the drainage issue at Teapot.
The question of drainage had been hotly debated since Fall first took office in 1921. Fall claimed that independent oil rigs around Teapot's perimeter had been siphoning off untold gallons of oil from the Teapot Reserve. Extracting as much oil as possible before it was lost to drainage was one of Fall's primary justifications for seizing the field from the Navy Department, who claimed there was no such problem.
Now, more than two years later, Senator Smoot's private geologists claim to have found evidence of significant drainage at Teapot. They assert that the site, which once contained more than 200 million barrels of oil, has only about 25 million barrels left. Wrapping up the first day of the hearing, Smoot declares that if the experts are to be believed, then Fall's decision to seize Teapot Dome from the Navy and lease it to Sinclair was entirely justified.
The press quickly seizes on this. The New York Times reports that the hearings will continue tomorrow, but all interest in the outcome has evaporated with the reports of the experts. It looks like the teapot scandal is over practically before it began. But there is still plenty of testimony to get through before the matter can officially be put to bed. And the first witness called is former Secretary of the Interior Albert Fulm.
Fall's been busy since leaving the Interior Post back in March. He's been working for Edward Doheny, traveling to Mexico on oil business. He's also recently traveled to Russia on behalf of Harry Sinclair.
Fall is enjoying his new high-paying civilian life, and he's eager to leave his past behind. So to put the issue of the teapot dome leases to rest once and for all, Fall agrees to testify even without being subpoenaed. And when Walsh calls him as a witness, Fall saunters to his seat as if he had nothing to hide.
Gazing out at the committee members who've just returned from summer vacation, Fall can see no one appears happy to be there. The whole operation feels perfunctory, which is exactly what he's been hoping for. Walsh begins his questions, asking Fall to explain why he had not allowed competitive bidding on the oil leases.
Fall replies that as a smart businessman, he knew he could get a better price without calling on bids. And as for the secret nature of the deal, Fall says he regarded himself as a business agent of the Secretary of the Navy, acting in what he regarded as a military matter. Describing it as such is a dicey gambit, but Fall is a smart attorney. Framing his decisions as a matter of national security will allow him to dodge certain questions and justify the secretive nature of the leases.
But Fall can sense Walsh is a shrewd opponent. Instead of seeming flustered by Fall's national security stonewalling, he switches tactics and moves on to questioning Fall's relationships with the two beneficiaries of the oil leases, Sinclair and Doheny. He asks Fall about working for Sinclair on a business trip to Russia to negotiate an oil exploration deal with the Soviet government.
Fall admits that he did recently travel to Russia on Sinclair's behalf, but asserts that Sinclair had only covered his travel expenses. Fall does not mention that these expenses amounted to $10,000, or that he'd also been paid an additional $25,000 fee. As for his employment with Doheny, Fall says he's been advising his old friend with some important matters, but claims he hasn't been compensated at all.
Fall also emphasizes that he never received a penny from the oil leases he negotiated and brags that the U.S. Navy has become vastly more efficient as a result of his policies and dealings. After two days of questioning, Fall can tell he's been a convincing witness.
He's had a ready answer for every question Walsh has lobbed at him, and he can see from the faces of the other committee members that they're growing bored with Walsh's interrogation. They seem to have already decided that Walsh is pursuing false leads, and these hearings won't amount to anything.
So Fall decides to end things on a sentimental note. Adopting a twinge of regret in his voice, he admits that President Harding has been criticized as a result of Fall's own actions, but laments that he's dead now and cannot speak for himself. Looking up at the committee, Fall feels a sense of triumph. He's presented himself as an honest, straight-shooting federal agent who has done nothing questionable. When he steps down from the stand, he has no intention of returning.
From Wondery, this is Episode 2 of Teapot Dome for American Skin. In our next episode, Thomas Walsh's pursuit of Albert Fall's questionable oil deals intensifies. Fall goes into damage control once again and runs up against Edward Doheny, who doesn't want to be implicated in wrongdoing, even as Harry Sinclair's head is next on the chopping block.
Wondery Plus subscribers can binge American Scandal early and ad-free right now. Join Wondery Plus in the Wondery app or on Apple Podcasts. If you enjoy American Scandal, be sure to give us a five-star rating and leave a review. I read every one of them.
I also have two other Wondery podcasts you might like, American History Tellers and Business Movers. Follow American Scandal on the Wondery app, Amazon Music, or wherever you get your podcasts. You can binge all episodes of American Scandal early and ad-free right now by joining Wondery Plus in the Wondery app or on Apple Podcasts. And before you go, tell us about yourself by completing a short survey at wondery.com slash survey.
And to find out more about me, including my other podcasts, go to notthatlindseygram.com. That's notthatlindseygram.com. If you'd like to learn more about Teapot Dome, we recommend the books The Teapot Dome Scandal by Leighton McCartney, Tempest Over Teapot Dome by David H. Stratton, Dark Side of Fortune by Margaret Leslie Davis, and Teapot Dome by Beryl Noggle.
This episode contains reenactments and dramatized details. And while in most cases we can't know exactly what was said, all our dramatizations are based on historical research. American Scandal is hosted, edited, and executive produced by me, Lindsey Graham, for Airship.
Audio editing by Christian Paraga. Sound design by Gabriel Gould. Music by Lindsey Graham. This episode is written by Peter Gilstrat. Edited by Emma Cortland. Fact-checking by Alyssa Jung-Perry. Produced by John Reed. Managing producer Olivia Fonte. Senior producer Andy Herman. Development by Stephanie Jens. And executive producers are Jenny Lauer-Beckman, Marshall Louis, and Erin O'Flaherty for Wondery.
He killed at least 19 people during the 1980s in South Africa. Very dark times. People were desperate. We were looking for him. We couldn't find him. And nobody knew where he was. Every single one of his victims was black. He reached such a stage where he was now hunting. World of Secrets from the BBC World Service. Season 3, The Apartheid Killer. Search for World of Secrets wherever you get your BBC podcasts.