It opened in 1939 and for years was the world’s largest.

It was (and still is) in Argentina‘s Mar del Plata, the “smartest, most opulent, most ostentatious shore resort in South America,” as described by “Around the World” columnist Temple Manning in 1949 (The Courier-Express).

Its large, magnificent building showcased an eclectic architectural style.

It was owned and operated by the government.

Its nightly take was higher than at any other continental enterprise of its kind.

In the late 1950s, it could accommodate up to 20,000 people.

It was Casino Central.

A Look Back

In 1970, when Nathan “Nate” S. Jacobson debuted the Kings Castle resort in Incline Village, Lady Godiva, naked and atop a horse, greeted visitors at the property’s arched entrance.

Five years later, Hyatt Hotels Corp. acquired Kings Castle. The new owner removed and auctioned off all of the themed décor and donated the proceeds to charity. Godiva was among the items.

William “Bill” Anderson, who owned the now defunct Ponderosa Ranch, snatched her up. Sadly, he passed away in 2008, and what happened to Godiva, if anything, between that time and when she moved to the capital city, is a mystery.

———————–

Do you know where she was during that period?

S.S. Monte Carlo detritus, captured in January 2010 when it surfaced.

1938

In the following verse, penned about the S.S. Monte Carlo following its demise, the writer Ida Clarise Gowan uses a hostile, derogatory and accusatory tone. She personifies, or gives human qualities to, the ship, such as being greedy and taking advantage of people. Gowan, then a Coronado, California resident, employs hyperbole by incorporating words like “crime,” “slave” and “mighty master.”

With these literary devices assisting her, Gowan delivers a sermon-like condemnation of gambling. Her poem reflects the sentiments of the anti-gambling faction that existed during the Great Depression.

Today, “Monte Carlo” reminds readers of the historic (and continuous) controversy over the casino industry.

Monte Carlo
By Ida Clarise Gowan

Monte Carlo — glittering ship
Of tinseled, gambling days,
They say you cannot beat the law,
They say crime never pays.

Monte Carlo — forgotten relic,
Heap of ugly stone and clay
Lying in the ocean sand,
The angry waves, your prey.

Asleep in the deep you dream
As you lie in your ocean bed;
You dream again of the glories
And the glittering life you led.

You were the mighty gambler;
You took, but seldom gave;
You, the mighty master
Made each follower your slave.

Luring men on to destruction
Like the Lauri Lee of old;
Heeding not the warning,
Ever seeking your gold.

With the greedy hand of lust
You kept your foe at bay;
He was always the loser,
You were the winner each day.

A fool there was and he believed
The fairy tales you told;
You took advantage of his weakness,
Knowing his lust for gold.

Beckoning onward, ever onward,
Beyond the limits of the law;
The pot of gold at rainbow’s end
Was the picture that he saw.

You lured him ever onward
And he listened to your call;
He gave, and gave, and gave,
You took, till you took all.

During a storm the Reaper said,
“Monte Carlo, you must pay;
While angry clouds burst over-head
This is your judgment day.”

The angry wind cried vengeance [sic]
As it hissed and howled by,
Tossing you at the mercy
Of an angry sea and sky.

The heavens ripped wide open;
The thunder roared and said,
“Monte Carlo, you are doomed;
Your gambling days are dead.”

Your moorings broke, you drifted
At the mercy of the sea
That tossed you by the sandy shore
Where you’ll lie for eternity.

You were the mighty ruler,
Beating everything you saw,
Rich man, poor man, beggar man, thief;
You even beat the law.

But now your turn has come,
It is time for you to pay;
The waves will reap revenge
And do the “beating” every day

They will beat against your broken side,
They will beat at your heart of stone;
They will beat till you shout “mercy”
If I could but atone.

They will lash you through the ages;
You will always hear them moan,
Making a mighty monument
Of brine, and spray, and foam.

Monte Carlo, the mighty gambler,
You took, but seldom gave;
So hide your face forever
In your Coronado grave.

(As published in the Coronado Journal newspaper on December 19, 1938.)

Photo: by Jamie Lantzy

1938, 1946

Notorious mobster, Benjamin “Bugsy” Siegel, borrowed money several times from his friend, actor George Raft, according to the biography George Raft, for which author Lewis Yablonsky interviewed the subject on numerous occasions.

Siegel first asked the man he’d known since childhood for a loan in roughly 1938, in the amount of $20,000 ($364,000 today). It was to invest in Anthony “Tony” Cornero Stralla’s Rex, a gambling ship anchored off of the Southern California coast. Raft obliged.

Over the ensuing months, Siegel paid back Raft but in numerous cash tranches of $500 and $1,000.

“George was puzzled because he had heard that his ‘pal’ was betting $2,000 to $5,000 a day on his horseraces, fights and ballgames,” Yablonsky wrote.

Siegel’s final loan request came in around 1946, when he pleaded with Raft for $100,000 ($1.3 million today), which he needed, he’d told him, to save both the Flamingo hotel-casino in Las Vegas and his own life. The actor, who didn’t have that much money on hand, dipped into his annuity fund and borrowed from various sources to get Siegel the full amount.

Raft never got repaid because shortly thereafter, the mobster was murdered.

Photo: From freeimages.com: “The Stack” by Jon Syverson

1851

Roving gambler William “Lucky Bill” B. Thorington’s stint in Hangtown (today Placerville, California) was brief because he literally thimblerigged a prominent local out of $1,500 to $2,000 (more than $39,000 to $52,000 today) and that angered the men in the camp.

Despite a potential lynch mob after him and his companion card sharp Sidney Charles, the duo managed to escape alive and unharmed then secreted themselves for a while in the woods.

A Carried Grudge

However, the story goes, when the two later came out of hiding and caught a stagecoach on the Sacramento road, a man already onboard recognized Thorington. While extracting a bowie knife from his person, that passenger threatened to cut out the gambler’s heart because he’d swindled a brother out of all of his money. He was referring to Lucky Bill’s trickery in Hangtown.

When Thorington went for his pistol, the vengeful passenger stopped him, saying they should take it outside, meaning off the coach.

The passenger threw his knife at Thorington while he was disembarking, the blade of which lodged between two of his ribs. While falling to the ground, Thorington fired a shot, hitting his foe in the shoulder.

“Both were taken to Sacramento where they received treatment and recovered,” Robert K. DeArment relayed in Knights of the Green Cloth.

Photo from Wikipedia

Entrance to Bally’s Las Vegas Hotel & Casino

Today

Bally Manufacturing Corp., at one time decades ago, was heavily involved in the gambling industry. It owned six hotel-casinos in the U.S. It was a major producer of state lottery games and developer of slot and video poker machines.

After its peak, the corporation divested all of its various but its hotel-casino (some still use the Bally name), and changed its name in 1994 to Bally Entertainment Corp. to reflect its single focus.

However, in 1996, Bally sold its casino properties to Hilton Hotels Corp., which, since, sold them, too.

Here’s the current status of former Bally-owned hotel-casinos: 

Louisiana:
Bally’s New Orleans: now closed

Mississippi:
Bally’s Casino Tunica: now 1st Jackpot Casino Tunica, owned by Gaming & Leisure Properties

Nevada:
Bally’s Las Vegas: now Bally’s Las Vegas Hotel & Casino, owned by Eldorado Resorts
Paris Las Vegas: owned by Eldorado Resorts
Bally’s Reno: now Grand Sierra Resort and Casino, owned by the Meruelo Group

New Jersey:
Bally’s Park Place: now Bally’s Atlantic City Hotel & Casino, owned by VICI Properties

Photo from Wikimedia Commons: by Pedro Szekely

1968, 1969

Bally Manufacturing Corp. got its name from Ballyhoo, the first coin-operated pinball machine (a penny got you seven plays) created in 1931 by Raymond Moloney, owner of Chicago, Illinois-based Lion Manufacturing Co. Lion became Bally in January 1932.

The company also made slot machines, video poker machines, video games and state lottery games and at its peak, owned five casino properties. 

In 1969, the British rock group, The Who, gave a shout out to Bally in its song, “Pinball Wizard,” lyrics by Pete Townshend:

I thought I was
The Bally table king
But I just handed
My pin ball crown to him

Even on my favorite table
He can beat my best
His disciples lead him in
And he just does the rest
He’s got crazy flipper fingrs
Never seen him fall
That deaf dumb and blind kind
Sure plays a mean pin ball!

At a time when wide-open gambling was legal in Nevada (as of 1931), the penalty for operating a game of chance without a license was 60 days in the county jail or a $120 fine.

Photo from freeimages.com: “Jail Door” by Robin Turner

The 1869 statute partially legalizing gambling in Nevada prohibited any such operations in first floor rooms.

An 1877 revision allowed gambling in back rooms of a ground level in certain small counties.

In 1905 and on, gamblers statewide could hold games in any room on any floor.

Photo from freeimages.com: “Number One” by Audrey Volodov

In Nevada, where casino operators can employ shills to play in their clubs, it was established that a licensee may not act as a shill, gambling in their own establishment. Their spouse can’t either unless playing with money other than the licensee’s personal funds.

Photo from freeimages.com: “We’ve Got a Winner” by Dimitri C.