1937-1970s

For Harrah’s, which debuted in Reno in 1937 as a bingo parlor, extensive advertising was key to its growth into one of Nevada’s largest gambling empires by the 1970s.* However, owner/operator William “Bill” Fisk Harrah‘s approach to publicizing his clubs primarily was to copy what competitor Harolds Club already had done.

“[Harrah’s] promotions were aimed at Harolds,” wrote Leon Mandel, author of William Fisk Harrah: The Life and Times of a Gambling Magnate. wrote. “In perfect accord with the Harrah style, they were — at least many of them — stolen from Harolds itself.”

A Humble Start

For about the first 10 years, during which the club solely offered bingo, and some employees themselves wrote ads for the business, keeping such work in house.

Then when the gambling tycoon expanded his business to a full casino in the mid-1940s, he engaged local firm, Wallie Warren & Associates, to assume advertising responsibilities. However, Harrah wasn’t impressed with the agency’s one advertising man, according to Mandel.

A Campaign With Teeth

Sometime in 1958, the gambler switched to Reno’s Thomas C. Wilson Advertising Co. One of the agency’s ad campaigns for Harrah’s was the “I won a jackpot” postcards. Here are some of the first ones circulated. (Warning: Much of the content is politically incorrect and offensive today.)

Note the images are oriented horizontally, all of the letters in “Harrah’s Club” are the same color, red, and the location cited is “Reno.”

Going Out Of State

In 1955 Harrah opened a second casino at Lake Tahoe in Stateline, and the postcards changed slightly as a result. Specifically, they now named the locations of both properties.

As the two Nevada Harrah’s operations grew, so did their advertising demands. In 1961, Harrah’s director of advertising, Jack E. McCorkle, sought an agency with the manpower to meet the gambling company’s needs.

After four months of searching, McCorkle contracted Hoefer, Dieterich & Brown Inc. in San Francisco, California. This firm’s efforts turned Harrah’s into a household name. 

The postcards evolved further.

Note the images now are vertically oriented, the casino name no longer includes “Club” and each letter in “Harrah’s” is a different color, none of them red.

Big Fat Copycat

It wasn’t Harrah’s but, rather, its biggest competitor, Harolds Club, that blazed the advertising trail for Nevada casinos. Harrah’s simply copied Harolds’ successful formula.

In 1941, the Smiths who owned and operated Harolds Club installed 25 roadside billboards** within 500 miles of their Reno gambling house, which indicated fun was to be had there. All of the signs challenged whoever saw them to make their way to The Biggest Little City, but none mentioned gambling.

Before Thomas C. Wilson Advertising created and placed ads for Harrah’s, it did the same for Harolds between 1946 and 1958. The agency was responsible for Harolds’ covered wagon symbol and its  “Harolds Club or Bust” slogan. It also advertised for Harolds in newspapers and magazines and on radio and TV.

“They did a good job,” Harold Smith, Sr., wrote of the Wilson agency in I Want to Quit Winners.

Harrah’s also put up billboards along the highways throughout the U.S.’ western states and advertised in the same media outlets that Harolds Club did.

Because the casino names, “Harolds” and “Harrah’s,” were similar, each starting with an “H” and containing seven letters, people often mistook one for the other.

“The more advertising Harolds did, the more people noticed Harrah’s,” Mandel noted.

—————————-

* Bill Harrah took his company, Harrah’s Entertainment Inc., public in 1971.

** The number of Harolds roadside signs rose over time to about 2,000 and appeared throughout much of the world.

Sources

Chartrand’s bombed Cadillac

1968

On Aug. 27, 1968, a dynamite bomb rigged under his Cadillac’s floorboard caused the violent death of Richard “Dick” Louis Chartrand, 42, a co-owner of the Barney’s Club and South Tahoe Nugget casinos in Stateline, Nevada. Also, “a large amount of money” was stolen from his home safe (The Fresno Bee, April 10, 1970). (These events happened exactly 12 years before the bombing of nearby Harvey’s Resort Hotel.)

The Chartrand case went cold. Then in 1981, Douglas County Sheriff Jerry Maple reopened it, hoping for further information, but nothing came of it.

What We Know Today

The initial investigators were confident they knew who committed the vicious murder-robbery of Chartrand and why, according to The Sacramento Bee, the newspaper that in 1981 conducted a full inquiry of its own into the killing and published its findings (Part I, Part II, Part III, Aug. 27). What hindered the case moving forward 52 years ago was a lack of physical evidence, which the district attorney insisted on having to ensure a conviction.

The Douglas County sheriff’s office believed two men, Roy Fred Pursselley and Louis Glenn Ballard, carried out the crimes. Pursselley, 50, and Ballard, 54, at the time, were crime partners who both had served prison time in the 1950s for conspiracy to smuggle (in their case, parrots, across the Mexico border into Southern California). They were thieves with expertise in robbing safes and, thus, adept at using explosives.

The two ex-cons allegedly killed and robbed Chartrand for Irwin “Bud” Spencer Soper, Jr. in exchange for essentially $1,000 (Soper reduced Pursselley’s debt to him to $400 from $1,400.) At the time, Soper, Jr. co-owned the Montgomery Pass Lodge & Casino in Mineral County and was about to open, in the next six months, the Monte Carlo Resort in Laughlin, both in Nevada.

Soper’s motive behind having Chartrand executed and robbed, according to then Douglas County Undersheriff George J. Brautovich, was that Chartrand stopped paying Soper a portion of the skim from Barney’s Club. (Later, it was determined Chartrand in fact was taking money off the top from that casino.) Soper believed Chartrand was securing his own share in his home safe.

The involvement of the three men — Soper, Pursselley and Ballard — came to Brautovich’s attention through Paul N. McConkey, a man who employed Pursselley at his plumbing enterprise in Los Angeles. McConkey claimed to have seen Pursselley obtain dynamite and build, at McConkey’s business, what appeared to be a bomb. He relayed that a few days before Chartrand’s murder, Pursselley told him he was going to Reno to do a job, and Pursselley used the company truck and two company credit cards for the trip, on which Ballard accompanied him. The two returned to Los Angeles the day after Chartrand’s murder.

Soper, Pursselley and Ballard

“When all the information on the Chartrand murder was sifted, investigating authorities in Nevada and California were convinced that Soper, Pursselley and Ballard were their men,” the Bee reported.

In 1981, the newspaper team interviewed whom they could related to the case. Ballard was deceased (1975) by then. McConkey claimed he couldn’t recall anything about the 1968 events. As for Soper and Pursselley, “their basic position was that Chartrand was a friend,” according to the Bee. Pursselley knew both Soper and Chartrand from having played in their illegal gambling games. “Moreover, in Soper’s case, Chartrand was a valuable business associate and neither had any reason to want him dead.”

When the Bee reporters asked Soper if Chartrand phased him out of the Barney’s skim, he replied: “I have five points. I could bounce Chartrand off a wall and get my stock. I’m the last son-of-a-bitch that wanted Chartrand dead. Alive, he’s worth a quarter-million or better to me. Dead, he ain’t worth a quarter.” The quarter million was the amount Soper placed on the 5 percent hidden interest he allegedly held in Barney’s Club.

Today, Soper and Pursselley are dead. Pursselley went first, in 1987, at age 69, in Los Angeles. Soper followed in 1995 at age 71, in Laughlin.

Richard L. Chartrand

Chartrand And His Short Life

Born on April Fools’ Day in 1926 in Fresno, California, Dick Chartrand grew up in the same town. At age 18, he was drafted into the U.S. Army Air Forces during the final days of World War II.

“He was never the same after that,” his mother, Elizabeth Chartrand, said.

It was during his time in the military that he learned to shoot craps. After being discharged, Chartrand returned to Fresno and worked with his father, Louis Chartrand, in the real estate business until 1950 when he was reactivated as an Air Force reservist for the Korean War.

Subsequently, he provided a charter air service, flying people from Fresno to Nevada to gamble. At some point, he also sold used cars. An FBI memo indicated that in 1962, he was running illegal card and craps games in a small building in the rear of the Fresno Auto Auction sales yard.

The Fresnan began investing in and helping run Nevada casinos in 1961, first Barney’s Club and then the South Tahoe Nugget. At the time of his murder in 1968, he was living in Nevada’s swanky Skyland subdivision on Lake Tahoe’s East Shore. He had a girlfriend but no children.

The Murder-Robbery Instigator

Bud Soper was three years older than Chartrand, being born on July 5, 1923 in Corona, California. He was a “tough-talking, beefy, gray-haired man, who [could] be engagingly garrulous,” according to Sacramento Bee reporters.

In 1953, when Soper was 29 and reportedly working as a locksmith, he was arrested with others involved in an illegal dice game in Southern California. It isn’t clear if he was running or playing the game.

“I come out of the gutter in L.A., crawlin’ on my hands and knees, runnin’ sneak crap games,” he later told the Bee, in 1981.

Supposedly, Soper worked as a handyman for a wealthy person who unexpectedly left him all of his assets upon his death. With those, Soper funded one or more Nevada casinos and, thus, reinvented himself as a legitimate gambler.

The first of his gaming businesses was the Montgomery Pass Lodge & Casino, which he and a partner debuted in 1963.

Six months after Chartrand’s murder, in 1969, Soper and another investor opened the Monte Carlo Resort. Nearly a decade afterward, a group of physicians acquired the property and reopened it in 1978 under a new name, Crystal Palace.

Soper opened his third gambling house, the Regency Casino, in Laughlin in 1980. The following year, he launched the Silver Strike Casino in Tonopah.

“I’m just a plain old dirty-assed gambler,” he said of himself in 1991.

On February 19, 1995, Soper died at 71 years old in Laughlin.

———————————

Photos from The Sacramento Bee, Aug. 27, 1981

Sources

Bones Remmer

An unpleasant, self-described “big gun,” Elmer “Bones” F. Remmer was “once one of the San Francisco Bay Area’s flashiest and most successful gambling czars,” having owned numerous clubs in which he offered illegal games of chance, noted the Oakland Tribune (June 12, 1963). Before solely working in Northern California, Remmer worked in Northern Nevada for the Wingfield syndicate, the local Mobsters who then controlled gambling there.

He likely is most associated with his Menlo Club in San Francisco, which he operated during the 1940s, and the Cal-Neva Lodge at Lake Tahoe in Crystal Bay, Nevada, which he ran in the 1930s in association with the Wingfield Syndicate. He also owned, during the 1940s, the 21 Club in El Cerrito, the Oaks Club in Emeryville, and the 110 Eddy and B&R Smokeshop in San Francisco — all in California.

Here are 10 true tidbits about Remmer:

1) He was shafted by “It Girl,” actress Clara Bow in September 1930, when she stopped payment on three checks totaling $13,900 (about $198,000 today), which were meant to cover the gambling debt she’d racked up at the Cal-Neva Lodge. (This was even after he’d gifted her with a bottle of whiskey when she’d arrived at the property.)

2) His wife divorced him the following month on grounds of physical and other cruelty. She claimed she’d given Remmer $15,000 ($220,000 today) to buy into the Cal-Neva Lodge and quoted him as telling her, “I got so much publicity out of Clara Bow’s bum checks that now I know everyone and am hobnobbing with the elite. You’re no help to me now — just a detriment.” In the divorce settlement, Remmer had to pay her $15,000 ($270,000 today) in cash and $150 ($2,700 today) per month as alimony.

3) Remmer freely paid off state and local politicians to ignore his illegal gambling operations in the Golden State’s Bay Area. For one, he donated $170,000 ($1.9 million today) in campaign contributions to California Attorney General Frederick “Fred” N. Howser.

4) He was arrested and charged with intoxication, along with three others, following a drunken fight in the Encore bar-restaurant in West Hollywood one early morning in December 1950. The other brawlers were Edmund M. Scribner, a Bakersfield gambler who’d worked for Remmer before; Thomas J. Whalen, St. Louis gambler, and his companion, actress Vici Raaf.

5) While in police custody following the melee, he was served by federal agents with a subpoena, which he’d been dodging, to testify at the upcoming Kefauver Committee hearing. During the hearing in 1951, Remmer couldn’t be found, as he allegedly was waiting it out in Mexico, and never testified. One that threat was gone, he returned to Northern California.

6) Remmer went to trial twice, in 1948 and 1949, in San Francisco for operating illegal gambling houses and using business fronts to do so. Both cases ended in hung juries.

7) Jury tampering was alleged during Remmer’s first tax evasion trial in 1951-1952. An outsider, who claimed to know Remmer, approached and suggested to one of the jurors he make a deal with Remmer, insinuating Remmer would pay for a vote in his favor. The juror refused and notified the judge. The United States Federal Bureau of Investigation investigated but concluded nothing untoward had occurred. Ultimately, on appeal, the conviction of Remmer stood, and no charges against the reported interloper were pursued.

8) He was found guilty of federal tax evasion in 1952, but the appeals court ordered a retrial because of the alleged jury tampering. Tried again in 1958, he was found guilty a second time, and the higher court upheld the decision. He was sentenced to a $20,000 fine (about $185,000 today) and five years in prison. He served 2.5 of those, at the Federal Correctional Institution, Terminal Island in San Pedro, California, getting paroled in 1961.

9) He had money problems later in life. Before prison, Remmer paid the requisite pieces of casino income to various mob bigwigs, including Benjamin “Bugsy” Siegel, New York mobster; Johnny Rosselli, member of the Chicago Outfit; and Jimmy Lanza, head of the San Francisco crime family. Remmer also freely gave money to various local and state politicians. After paying the Internal Revenue Service his tax arrears of $63,000 (about $530,000 today), finances were tight. After prison, he sold cars, until his death four years later, for his brother William Remmer, who co-owned a lot in Oakland, California.

10) Nicknamed “Bones” as a joke because of his fluctuating, 225- to 300-pound size, he is said to have struggled, all of his adult life at least, with an endocrine disorder. Remmer passed away after “undergoing treatment following surgery for a glandular ailment” at age 65 in 1963 (San Mateo Times, June 12, 1963).

Sources

First, I’d like to thank you all for your readership and support. It means a lot.

On another note, the gambling history book, A Bold Gamble at Lake Tahoe: Crime and Corruption in a Casino’s Evolution, is finally here! I offer you the first chapter below.

The nonfiction book now is available for purchase as a paperback ($14.95) and an e-book ($7.99) in both EPUB and Kindle formats. To buy, click here.

Here’s a glimpse again at the story:

Their new, nature-inspired hotel stood amid a Northern Nevada township of more trees than people. The raw beauty of that lakeside spot on the cusp of development portended enormous getaway potential. The owners, legitimate businessmen, strove to add a casino, but no one would finance it.

Then Jimmy Hoffa’s Teamsters pension fund wormed its way in. The locals objected to a gambling house in their neighborhood. Shady characters usurped the enterprise. Lives were threatened. State agents witnessed an employed stickman using misspot dice. Felonious crimes occurred on the property, allegedly. Lawsuits by and against one owner crept into the double digits. And those events were just a handful of a mounting pile of troubles.

This is the story of a gambling business’ journey from concept to stability during the 1960s and ’70s, a time when the industry was Mob infiltrated, often volatile, theft and cheating prone, and unpredictably policed.

That once fledgling inn now is the Hyatt Regency Lake Tahoe Resort, Spa and Casino.

I wish you all a fantastic winter holiday season and new year.

Take care,

Doresa

——————————————————————————————————————————————

CHAPTER 1: 

DIP INTO THE UNDERWORLD

1964

With Jimmy Hoffa and the fund’s co-trustees waiting inside their headquarters to meet him and seal the deal, California businessman Bill Swigert told the broker his company now was refusing the proffered loan.

“You are finished with the Teamsters, and you better get out of Chicago,” Norman Tyrone said while dragging a thumb across his own throat.[i]

“We got the hell out of there,” said Swigert, referring to himself and his attorney.[ii]

Desperation for financing is what had spurred William “Bill” G. Swigert, Jr. to the Windy City that autumn. He and his two partners — collectively Pacific Bridge Company & Associates (PBC&A) — recently had built and opened The Sierra Tahoe, the premier hotel in a new, sparsely inhabited, developing community on the north shore of Lake Tahoe[1] in Nevada, U.S.A. Four months later, they still needed money to cover the construction and other incurred expenses and to fund the project’s next phase, adding a casino and more guestrooms.

A few months before, Swigert had received a telephone call from Norman B. Tyrone, who’d introduced himself as a financier and had asserted he could arrange a Teamsters Pension Fund (TPF) loan for PBC&A for The Sierra Tahoe.

By that time, the TPF had underwritten more than $20 million in loans ($163 million)[2] in Nevada, for hotel-casinos, including the Riverside in Reno, and the Dunes and the Desert Inn in Las Vegas, as well as other facilities.

The TPF — formally the Central States, Southeast, Southwest Areas Pension Fund of the International Brotherhood of Teamsters — collected and managed employer contributions for retirement, disability and death benefits for its unionized truck drivers and warehouse workers in about 20 states.

One of the fund’s eight trustees was James “Jimmy” R. Hoffa, who, as the Teamsters union president, allegedly had ordered bombings, arsons, beatings and murders and had aligned himself with Mobsters nationwide.

Tyrone had arranged for PBC&A to receive $2.6 million ($21.2 million) in financing from the TPF. The loan was PBC&A’s last resort, as Swigert had exhausted all other potential options over the prior 2.5 years. Swigert and his counsel, Frank E. Farella, had flown to Chicago to finalize the transaction.

On Friday, September 25, the two men convened with Tyrone in the new riverfront, 36-story, downtown Executive House hotel, about seven blocks from the TPF’s building. Tall but portly, the man wore expensive apparel.

“Tyrone just looked dishonest,” Swigert said. “He looked like a big, tall gangster, like Al Capone[3] on steroids.”

In Tyrone’s suite, piles of papers lay strewn across the furniture. The loan liaison darted around and made and answered several calls supposedly to and from Elliott Roosevelt, who was said to be waiting in the TPF’s boardroom to meet Tyrone and his loan applicants from the West Coast. Tyrone had indicated this son of Franklin D. and Eleanor Roosevelt, former United States president and first lady, was his business partner.

“God, it was almost like a show,” Swigert said about Tyrone’s behavior.[iii]

Swigert and Farella reviewed the loan papers. As a condition of the financing, PBC&A previously had agreed to pay 1 point, or 1 percent of the loan amount, which equaled $26,000 ($212,000), to the TPF for appraisals, estimates and other costs. It also had agreed to pay 2 points, which was $52,000 ($424,000), to Tyrone as commission for brokering the deal.

However, among the documents, Swigert spotted a letter that committed PBC&A to giving an additional $208,000 ($1.7 million), or 8 points, as a subsidiary loan to the International Mortgage and Statistical Corporation, supposedly Tyrone and Roosevelt’s company in the Bahamas.

“What’s this? What’s it all about?” Farella asked.

“To Swigert and Farella … the Bahamas loan had an imme-diate and unmistakable stench,” reported the Oakland Tribune.

The additional $208,000 meant PBC&A would pay 11 versus 3 points on the loan. Tyrone defended it as “a hell of a good deal”[iv] and said all TPF financings were transacted at a 10 point-minimum.[4]

Frank Sheeran, who once had been Hoffa’s right-hand man, explained to author Charles Brandt how the TPF loans worked: “Jimmy’s cut was to get a finder’s fee off the books. He took points under the table for approving the loans. Mob bosses would bring customers. The bosses would charge the customers 10 percent of the loan and split that percentage with Jimmy.”[v]

If this were to have been the case with the loan to PBC&A, then $104,000 of that $208,000 would have gone to Hoffa, the rest to Tyrone. (Tyrone wasn’t a Mob boss, but like one, he connected loan candidates and the TPF.)

When Swigert asked him what his corporation did, Tyrone explained that it was somewhat of a startup, aiming to computerize global information about potential loan sources. Farella requested the business’ latest financial reports, but Tyrone said they weren’t and wouldn’t be available. He admitted that no paper trail documenting the $208,000 disbursement would exist.

“We said that if this was a legitimate loan [to Tyrone’s firm], then there was a legitimate business reason for doing it,” Swigert recalled. “Otherwise, this clearly would be immoral and illegal.”[vi]

About then, it was time for Swigert and Farella to rendezvous with the TPF’s trustees at their 29 E. Madison Street offices. Swigert told Tyrone he and Farella would catch up with him there with a final decision on the loan. First, Swigert had to discuss with his partners the surprise term just thrust upon PBC&A, by phone. He did so.

“It didn’t take us long to decide we wanted no part of any deal like that,” Swigert said.[vii]

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[1] Often called the “Jewel of the Sierra” or “Big Blue,” Lake Tahoe straddles the California-Nevada border. With a surface area of 191 square miles, it’s North America’s largest alpine lake.

[2] With most of the dated dollar figures throughout this book, a corresponding current value is provided in parentheses immediately after. These amounts are based on 2019 United States government consumer price index data and adjusted for inflation.

[3] Alphonse “Scarface” Capone was the American Mobster who allegedly murdered his way to becoming Chicago’s organized crime boss during the U.S.’ Prohibition Era.

[4] That was true, but it was a high rate, as traditional lenders typically charged borrowers 1 to 4 origination points.

CHAPTER 1: DIP INTO THE UNDERWORLD

[i] Nevada State Journal, “Teamster Fund Trial Starts on Tahoe Loan,” Jan. 26, 1971.

[ii] Interview of William G. Swigert, Jr., June 24, 2010.

[iii] Oakland Tribune, “$200,000 Fee on Loan for Teamsters,” June 5, 1970.

[iv] Ibid.

[v] Brandt, Charles. I Heard You Paint Houses: Frank “The Irishman” Sheeran & Closing the Case on Jimmy Hoffa, Hanover, N.H.: Steerforth Press, 2005. Ebook.

[vi] Interview of William G. Swigert, Jr., June 24, 2010.

[vii] Oakland Tribune, “$200,000 Fee on Loan for Teamsters,” June 5, 1970.

1967

The North Lake Tahoe gambling house had been running smoothly for eight months since Arthur “Art” L. Wood, developer of the Incline Village master-planned community, had assumed ownership of it earlier in the year. He’d acquired it along with the lakefront restaurant and bar components of The Sierra Tahoe in Nevada from then owner Calvin Kovens and afterward, renamed the gaming entity Incline Village Casino.

Caught In The Act

On a day in mid-October, employee Clayton P. Gatterdam was working there as a craps stickman, responsible for calling the dice rolls and moving the dice around the table. While a game was in progress, he pulled misspot dice — ones without certain numbers — a few times from a hidden pocket in his apron and swapped them for those in play to increase the player’s chance of winning. One of his dice, for instance, contained two ones, two fours and two fives.

Two members of the Nevada Gaming Control Board (NGCB), the investigative gambling regulatory arm that reports to the Nevada Gaming Commission (NGC), witnessed Gatterdam cheating! At the time, the NGCB happened to have been conducting a random, clandestine, undercover check of the Incline Village Casino.

Gatterdam had arranged in advance with an acquaintance to collude in the swindling and split the winnings. The co-conspirator was to bet at Gatterdam’s craps table, and Gatterdam was to insert the misspot dice to facilitate one or more wins.

“[We was] going to try to put the dice in and take the place off, shoot the bankroll. We was going to try to beat the house,” Gatterdam said in his statement to Wood’s attorney. He also admitted to having been a “crossroader,”* or cheater, for the previous 20 years. (About 1.5 years later, Gatterdam again would be caught using misspot dice but in London, England.)

Protocol Followed

Consequently, the NGCB closed the Incline Village Casino — standard procedure — and filed a formal complaint against its operators, Wood, who owned 90 percent, and Benjamin “Benny” Lassoff, the bartender there who owned 10 percent. Neither of them had been on the premises when the trickery occurred.

The NGCB recommended the NGC revoke Wood and Lassoff’s gambling licenses. That’s just what it did; it pulled them for a year.

“These procedures were established for two purposes, to protect players against cheating and to protect the reputation of the state,” stated an editorial published in the Las Vegas Sun (Nov. 3, 1967). “Should it ever become established that the state allowed a cheating operation to continue one minute after irregularities are detected or even strongly suspicioned, the fat’s in the fire for sure and there’ll be a field day for the ever-ready critics of our major industry.”

Business Left Hanging

Wood pleaded with the NGC to let him keep his license, saying he’d do whatever it would take. No dice. 

“I think this thing was handled unfairly,” Wood said. “But [the NGC] is the boss” (Nevada State Journal, Dec. 5, 1967).

Unable to run the casino, Wood sought to lease or sell his majority interest in it and even unload the restaurant and bar components he owned as well, if necessary.

—————-

*A crossroader is a casino cheater; the term, which originated in the Old West, denoted someone who practiced their trickery at saloons located at crossroads.

Sources

Hostess (princess)

1970-1975

The doorman was a knight in armor; the maître d’, a prince; the dining room hostess, a princess … Each and every one of the 900 or so employees at Kings Castle, even the phone operators, wore a costume while at work.

Kings Castle, the brainchild of Nathan “Nate” S. Jacobson, debuted in Incline Village on Lake Tahoe in Nevada in 1970. The work uniforms were just another extension of the English royalty motif that permeated the resort.

Eye-Catching Fashion

The costumes boasted vibrant colors — deep orange, Gainsborough blue, gold and silver — and , according to their famous designer Michel Fresnay, a “mod-medieval” style  (Reno Evening Gazette, July 7, 1970).

Fabrics primarily were crêpes and an imported French silk cotton used on both its shiny and matte sides. Embellishments included pearls, brass, horsehair, gold braided headdresses for the men, tiaras for the women, faux chain mail and leather.

Maître d’ (prince)

Tommy Papagna recalled wearing a court jester costume, a long-sleeved lavender top with a large collar and cuffs shaped like crowns, both yellow. He was a roulette, 21 and baccarat dealer in Kings Castle’s casino during 1973 and 1974.

“I liked wearing the costumes because they were comfortable,” he said (March 2018).

Not Just Any Designer

Jacobson chose and commissioned Fresnay to create the costume series. Fresnay, age 39 at the time and a graduate of the Beaux Arts Academy in Paris, France, had become renowned after designing Marlene Dietrich’s gowns for her appearance at the Olympia Theatre in 1962. 

Sources

1975

When a notorious American stayed at the Hyatt Lake Tahoe, it was three months after Hyatt Hotels Corp. acquired the resort and a time when Nevada wanted to portray a clean gambling industry.

The infamous guest was Carmine “Lilo/The Cigar” Galante, boss of the Brooklyn, New York-based Bonanno crime family and, according to the U.S. Justice Department, then one of the country’s highest-ranked organized crime figures.

Mob Troubles

The 63 year old was on parole but allowed to travel. He’d been released from the U.S. Penitentiary, Lewisburg* in Pennsylvania 1.8 years earlier after serving 14 years of a 20-year sentence for a narcotics conspiracy conviction. Indeed, Galante had been responsible for trafficking heroin between the Bonanno family and the Giuseppe “Joe” Cotroni crime family in Montreal, Québec, Canada. 

Also at the time of his 1975 Lake Tahoe trip, Galante was “involved in a power struggle with Carlo Gambino, a New York crime boss, for the position of capo cli tutti capo — boss of all bosses in organized crime’s national high commission,” reported the Reno Evening Gazette (Aug. 18, 1975). As such, some law enforcement officials believed the true purpose of his West Coast excursion was to hold a summit with other underworld members.

Kept In Sight

Despite his criminal involvement, status and history, Nevada’s gambling regulators couldn’t kick Galante out of the Hyatt’s casino. Only those listed in their Black Book could be; it contained the names of personas non gratas in the state’s gambling houses.

Galante, however, could be watched, and watched he was. The Federal Bureau of Investigation, the Washoe County Sheriff’s Organized Crime Unit and others tracked his every move.

“Galante’s arrival in Nevada comes at a time when state and casino officials are stressing the crime-free aspects of Nevada gaming to members of the National Gambling Commission,” the Nevada State Journal (NSJ) reported.

The capo arrived in The Silver State looking like a “paunchy, retired janitor,” wearing a blue T-shirt, brown windbreaker and straw porkpie hat and “twisting, chewing and puffing on the legendary cigar which danced between his teeth below the gold wire-rimmed glasses which stayed halfway down his nose,” described the Nevada State Journal (Aug. 19, 1975).

After Galante checked in to the Hyatt Lake Tahoe in Incline Village, Tom Benham of the local organized crime unit, informed him that he and his activities would be scrutinized during his time in Nevada. “We want you to leave here as healthy as when you arrived,” Benham told him, according to the NSJ. Galante responded, “Thank you. I appreciate that very much.”

Benign Agenda

During his stay, from Monday to Saturday, Aug. 18 to 23, Galante, along with his three female traveling companions aged 35, 45 and 50, merely acted the tourist. The group went to the usual Lake Tahoe attractions, including the Ponderosa Ranch, the Incline Village Golf Course and the various casinos. They ate at several area restaurants and attended a couple of dinner shows.

Before Lake Tahoe

To start their adventure, the quartet had flown from New York to Los Angeles. There rented a car, a white Ford LTD, which then they’d driven to San Francisco. After staying the night there, at the Hyatt Regency Hotel, they’d made their way to Truckee, where they’d slept at the Gateway Motel. The next day, they’d continued on to Nevada and the Hyatt Lake Tahoe.

———————-

* While at Lewisburg, Galante was housed in cell block G, or “Mafia Row,” with James “Jimmy” Hoffa; Anthony “Tony Pro” Provenzano, member of New York’s Genovese crime family; and Vincent “Vinnie The Fat Man” Teresa, a former high figure in New Jersey’s Raymond Patriarca crime family.

Sources

1970-1975

More than nine centuries after her purposeful and likely shocking stunt* in Coventry, England, Lady Godiva provoked controversy at a hotel-casino on Lake Tahoe’s North Shore.

When Kings Castle debuted in Incline Village in 1970, a nude Lady Godiva astride a horse and flanked by two medieval, sword-wielding sentinels (all replicas, of course) welcomed guests at the resort entrance. Situated in the archway of a tall, stone wall, the long-haired beauty appeared to be about to pass through a gate and cross a drawbridge.

In Poor Taste

A contingent of Northern Nevadans considered the Lady Godiva statue offensive, presumably because the subject was naked. That sentiment extended to other elements of Kings Castle, too, including the nude revue FLESH featuring topless showgirls performed there and the “Thy Kingdom Come” sign outside the hotel.

The Nevada resort, inside and out, bore the look and feel of England’s royal architecture during its Tudor period, about 1485 to 1603, however, the real Lada Godiva had predated that by hundreds of years, having made her splash in 1040. As such, she wasn’t emblematic of the Tudor era, so why she was at Kings Castle in the first place isn’t clear. Perhaps the fact that both she and the Tudor dynasty were English was enough for then proprietor Nathan “Nate” S. Jacobson to connect the two.

Minimizing Her Effect

When Kings Castle came under new ownership, that of Jud D. McIntosh, in 1973, he sought to change the resort’s image to a family-friendly one and, thus, had Lady Godiva clothed.

Even clad in apparel, the English noblewoman only remained there two more years.

Doesn’t Fit In

After The Hyatt Corp. acquired Kings Castle in 1975 and renamed it Hyatt Lake Tahoe, it eradicated all signs of the royalty motif, transforming the facilities back to one that blended with the natural surroundings; their first iteration The Sierra Tahoe (1964 to 1966) had been designed with that very intent.

Only 1.5 months after assuming control of the hotel-casino, Hyatt auctioned off all of the medieval décor, including Lady Godiva, and donated the proceeds to the North Lake Tahoe Historical Society. As a result, Lady Godiva’s new home became Bill Anderson’s Ponderosa Ranch, a nearby theme park based on the television show Bonanza (it closed in 2004).

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* In 1040, Lady Godiva implored her husband Leofric, the Lord of Coventry, to reduce or eliminate the taxes he’d levied recently, as she found them oppressive. Knowing she was modest, he agreed to lift them if she rode her horse naked through the town’s streets. To his surprise, she did just that, after getting the local citizens to agree to not watch her carry out the challenge.

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