Sonnenberg, Ben

The name of this legendary publicist/press agent is lost or blurred in modern discussions of public [Page 791]relations innovators. During his heyday in New York City, Ben Sonnenberg was larger than life. Image without substance, colorful, flashy, dapper, lavish, self-made, dominating, grandiose, glitter, aura, doer of favors, giver of gifts, ostentatious—these and many other similar phrases were used to describe his character and career. He was one of the princes of public relations who created an agency largely based on his personality. Like so many of these pioneers in the middle years of the 20th century, he left only a partial record of his work. No agency bears his name as his professional legacy. An oft-quoted line opens a feature story by Crosswell Bowen and George Clark on Sonnenberg in the February 1950 issue of Harper's Magazine: “Benjamin Sonnenberg may not be the richest or the most powerful man in his trade, but he is certainly the most successful in giving that impression” (p. 39). In that way, he became the prince to many merchant princes, individual leaders of government and commerce.

Born into crushing poverty in Brest Litovsk, Poland, on July 21, 1901, Sonnenberg came with his parents to New York City, where he became famous for creating legends for others through his publicity skills. He died on September 6, 1978, after having created a high lifestyle that included owning one of the most lavish mansions in New York City. In the judgment of Bowen and Clark, “Sonnenberg's role is conceived to stand out in bright, theatrical lights. His clothes, his house, his mode of transportation, eating habits, and manner of doing business all bear the unmistakable imprint of a character equipped to function in a lively and competitive field” (1950, p. 39). The side of the profession that appealed to Sonnenberg was press agentry aimed at getting high-profile recognition for his clients. He proclaimed that for a hefty fee he would see that his clients received “honorary degrees, the French Legion of Honor, and their pictures on the cover of Time magazine” (p. 39).

The walls of his lavish Park Avenue office were lined with framed magazine stories he had arranged to feature the professional reputation of his clients. Along with these stories were signed pictures of the powerful and famous: Franklin D. Roosevelt, Herbert Hoover, Fiorello La Guardia, “Wild Bill” Donovan, Ely Culbertson, Prince Matchabelli, and Grand Duchess Marie of Russia. In the midst of this publicity clutter one could also find framed coverpage pictures of the barons of industry. A personality in his own right, Sonnenberg dealt in personae. He worked successfully to carve images for the rich and famous—for hefty annual fees.

Sonnenberg's lifestyle was not the result of his success. It was its foundation. He created personae for others. He did so for himself, as evidence of what he could accomplish for clients. His dress, mansion, bold mustache, and characteristic dress attracted attention—some of which was unflattering. The conservative John W. Hill slammed Sonnenberg's approach. Hill believed that he was not king of his agency, but one of many smart and ethical counselors who toiled to put information before the public to gain goodwill for clients. Second, the ostentatious lifestyle, perhaps most particularly his apparel, was Hill's target for the sharpest comment in private correspondence to Tommy Ross. Hill noted what he had learned about success in public relations from reading the Harper's Magazine piece: “After reading it I have decided to go in for elongated sideburns and a sailor suit” (private correspondence from John W. Hill to Tommy Ross, March 14, 1950).

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