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The trouble with buying things, sight unseen, is that you donít know, first-hand, what youíre getting. You are totally dependent on the word of the one who is selling it to you. You have to put faith in his blarney and believe that what you are buying is all he says it is. If you cannot see it for yourself, you just have to believe that you are being told the truth.
The classic swindle along these lines involves the company that was selling Florida land when the boom first opened up that territory. In the 1890ís, Henry Flagler built a railroad down the entire Florida peninsula, and people swarmed to get land somewhere, anywhere, as long as it was in Florida. One company offered its acreage at incredibly low prices, prices far less that the going rate. This company displayed maps, showing exactly where the land was located, and describing spacious lots, with gorgeous views and simmering sunsets. Their sales skyrocketed! This land sold as if there were no tomorrow! But when the buyers from cold northern cities went south to claim their purchases and make arrangements to build, they found they had bought acreage in a swamp, under three feet of water! Some deal, huh, when you have somehow to drain three feet of water off your acreage before you can even touch it, much less build on it!
Now, as if that were not enough of a swindle for us to think about, not many years after the Florida land boom, there was a boom of another kind. Immigrants. Hundreds and thousands of immigrants from eastern and southern Europe, running from oppression and starvation and landing on Ellis Island in New York harbor. They knew nothing about America, but they had heard tales of golden streets and ready cash, how there was enough for everyone to live like a king. They brought little with them, these Poles and Russians and Italians and Germans, but what they did have they were ready to invest in Americaís immense wealth. That made them sitting ducks for shysters of all kinds. And so in the 1920ís one of the favorite tricks, as immigrants poured into the Lower East Side, was to point out the stunning Brooklyn Bridge, standing proudly on the skyline, and tell them that for only a few rubles or kopecks or lira, that bridge could be yours! Never mind that the Brooklyn Bridge was not for sale, nor did it belong to the salesman who sold it, nor that its worth, even if it were for sale, was infinitely beyond the means of these struggling newcomers. They bought; they plunked down their hard-earned money for a nothing that looked like something. They gave away their money and received nothing of value in return. Thatís why today, when you find somebody who will believe anything we tell them, we smile and say, ďWell, if you believe that, thereís a bridge in Brooklyn Iíd like to show you.Ē Selling the Brooklyn Bridge
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