On the opening night of a new theatre in Omaha in 1910, a newsboy sat on a curb watching the city’s elite enter the building to join the celebration. A particularly elegantly dressed couple caused a stir as they stepped from their car. The newsboy had to know who they were. A policeman told the boy it was Mr. and Mrs. Robert Manley. Manley was advertising manager of the Brandeis Store.

The moment ignited an interest in this glamorous profession in the newsboy—a young Morris E. Jacobs, who would grow up to be co-founder of Bozell & Jacobs marketing agency.

In fact, Jacob’s first job as a newsboy was already preparing him to pursue his dream.

“I was not aware of it at the time, but I was putting ideas together with communication to sell my papers. And that’s what we’ve done to sell products, ever since,” Jacobs wrote in his memoir, The Story of Morris E. Jacobs and His Years at Bozell & Jacobs. “I was considered a pretty good ‘hustler’ as a newsboy because I was fortunate enough to have ideas on how to market my product.”

Jacobs was also a hard worker and determined to do anything he could to increase his profits. He sold newspapers from 6 a.m. until he had to run to school in the mornings, and rushed straight back to collect from other newsboys after school. Additionally, Jacobs often spent the night on a bed of newspapers on Saturday nights so he could earn a few extra bucks stuffing the Sunday edition.

The hard work paid off—Jacobs caught the attention and affection of Omaha World-Herald publisher Gilbert Hitchcock. Hitchcock encouraged Jacobs to go to journalism school and helped pave the way for him to attend the University of Missouri School of Journalism.

While at the school, Jacobs supported himself with a position in the subscriptions department of the local newspaper, the Missourian. Here again, Jacob demonstrated innate marketing savvy: one of his major tactics for securing new accounts involved teaming with a photographer, and taking pictures of residents around town “and telling the residents their fame was to be spread across the pages of the daily Missourian. Naturally, they would want to subscribe. Usually, the stories and pictures appeared,” according to a September 12, 1948, Omaha World-Herald article about Jacobs.

Though he wasn’t able to complete the journalism program, Jacobs was still able to land a position as a night police reporter for the Illinois State Journal on his departure. A year later, he returned to Omaha as a reporter for the Omaha Daily News. While at the Daily News, Jacobs was first introduced to a man who would become a lifelong friend and business partner, “tough city editor” (according to the Omaha World-Herald) Leo B. Bozell.

Jacobs eventually moved on to other papers, moving out of town and then returning yet again. In 1919, Jacobs was approached by J.E. Davidson of Nebraska Power Company. He had developed a relationship with Davidson through his reporting, but now Davidson wanted him to hire him for something else. He needed advertisements to campaign against a proposed decrease in electric rates being discussed by the City Council.

Jacobs created a total of 20 ads and made the campaign a success. Davidson was so pleased he hired Jacobs on a monthly retainer to do more advertising work. It was the beginning of a new business.

Not too long after, Bozell returned from service in the army with an opportunity to be secretary of the Omaha Real Estate Board. But he also agreed to work with Jacobs on some marketing on the side. Davidson had made Jacobs head of advertising and public relations, and recommended him to a few other companies. Work was piling up.

They worked long hours to build the business. Jacobs worked on marketing for clients during the day, while Bozell was at his job with the Omaha Real Estate Board. They met around 5 or 6 p.m., when Bozell got off work, and he would continue the marketing late into the night. Meanwhile, Jacobs went to the Bee News, where he was the night police reporter. When Jacobs got off his shift, they often met again in the middle of the night.

“Still Leo and I had never said to each other formally ‘Let’s start an agency.’ We just drifted into it,” Jacobs wrote. Nevertheless, the pair incorporated Bozell & Jacobs in 1921, and both left their other jobs to work for the agency full-time in 1923.

The agency’s first office was a small one-desk space in the Securities Building. As the business grew, it relocated to a space in the offices of Darlow Advertising Agency. The services of the two businesses complemented each other, and Bozell & Jacobs acquired new work through the connection.

Another early client was Fr. Edward Flanagan. Flanagan hired Bozell & Jacobs for help publicizing an organization he founded for homeless and neglected boys—soon to be called Boys Town, a name created by Jacobs and his brother, who also did some work for the agency.

Bozell & Jacobs created a pivotal awareness campaign for Flanagan with the famous photograph and slogan, “He ain’t heavy, Father … he’s my brother!” along with fundraising appeals and more. Later, Jacobs joined Flanagan on a trip to Hollywood and secured a movie. The film was released in 1938. Spencer Tracy, who played Fr. Flanagan in the film, won an Oscar for Best Actor. Boys Town’s benefited greatly from the publicity and garnered major donations from viewers and MGM itself.

“Bozell & Jacobs has a right to be mighty proud of what it did for Boys Town. In my opinion, the work our office did for Boys Town is the finest Bozell & Jacobs ever did in its history,” Jacobs wrote.

The successes with Boys Town also gave the emerging agency a high profile and laid the groundwork for more work in the years ahead. During the height of the Great Depression, a time when many established businesses faced bankruptcy, these two hard-working, talented ad men managed to pull out ahead. By the end of the 1930s, Bozell & Jacobs was among the most well-known advertising agencies working in the Midwest.

“By now we were beginning to feel pretty sure of ourselves. We liked being in business for ourselves, even with all of its risks and long hours,” Jacobs wrote.