During Nevada’s 1957 legislature, State Senator Kenneth Johnson (R-Ormsby), voiced his concerns about some of the state’s gambling licensees* simultaneously co-owning Cuban casinos.

He feared that:

• Nevada licensees might form alliances with U.S. mobsters in Havana, who primarily ran gambling there

• Nevada licensees might use those relationships to hide mob interests in their Silver State gambling enterprises

• U.S. lawmakers might grow intolerable of the political ties between Nevada licensees/their agents and the Cuban government

• U.S. lawmakers might, therefore, pass a law that eradicates legal gambling in Nevada

“I don’t like to see them use the stamp of respectability given them by Nevada as a magic wand to go into similar business ventures in other part of the world,” Johnson said (Reno Evening Gazette, Jan. 26, 1957). “From now on I’m going to dedicate my efforts to protecting Nevada’s gambling monopoly.”

Johnson, therefore, was tasked with studying the effects on the state of its licensees being involved in Cuban gambling.

Potential Stain On Nevada

Before he could report his findings as planned, prior to the next (1959) legislative session, events took place that forced Nevada’s gaming regulators to take a stand immediately.

In December 1957, Albert Anastasia was murdered. He’d been a boss of the Giambino crime family and head of Murder, Inc., the Mafia’s enforcement branch that was founded by notorious, New York mobster Meyer Lansky, who also was an associate of Charles “Lucky” Luciano.

New York police were investigating the angle that mobsters involved in Cuba’s gambling industry, Lansky in particular, had Anastasia whacked because he’d tried to horn in on that territory.

Cuba Gambing Exposé

In March 1958, LIFE magazine published an article, “Mobsters Move in on Troubled Havana and Split Rich Gambling Profits with Batista.” The subtitle was, “Old Familiar Faces from Las Vegas Show Up in Plush New Casinos with Plenty of Fast ‘Action’ to take Tourist Dollars.”

Of the surreptitiously taken photos in the piece, one depicted Meyer Lansky and a woman leaving the Riviera casino. The description noted that he carried a “satchel reported to have contained $200,000 from cashier’s office” and went on to state, “Lansky was returning to U.S., where he was picked up for questioning in the Anastasia murder case.”

Meyer Lansky, known as the mob’s accountant, had gambling interests from coast to coast in the United States and had been a key player in the Mafia’s development of Las Vegas. Another image showed Meyer’s brother, Jake Lansky, in Cuba’s Nacional casino.

Spotlight On Silver State

The LIFE article stated Nevada’s casino industry was spotless: “Ever since the Nevada boom hit full stride in the ’40s, the gambling mob has been ‘legit,’ shunning the back streets and peepholes, running scrupulously honest tables, keeping books and paying income taxes.” (This was partially valid.)

The piece, though, also revealed that some Silver State licensees were entangled with major mobsters in Cuba, where the industry wasn’t so clean. (This was true.)

The Lanskys managed Cuba’s Nacional casino while owner Wilbur Clark, co-owner of the Desert Inn in Las Vegas, was the front man and three other Desert Inn shareholders were investors. Meyer also owned a piece of the action at the Havana Riviera casino with three Nevadans tied to the Sands and the Fremont hotel-casinos in Sin City.  

The other Nevada gaming licensee involved in Cuban gambling was Clifford Jones, the co-owner of the Thunderbird Hotel in Las Vegas, who owned a percent interest in the Havana Hilton casino.

“Nevada, which has already been and is under fire, cannot stand idly by when licensees participate in activities which in any way bring notoriety or discredit to the state,” the Nevada Gaming Control Board (NGCB) wrote in a report (Reno Evening Gazette, April 25, 1958).

The rumor in Cuba then was that the all-powerful in Las Vegas orchestrated the LIFE exposé and were supporting Fidel Castro to collapse Havana gambling. Many Nevada gamblers didn’t like the industry’s booming success in the island nation where the swanky hotels and casinos were larger than any in Las Vegas.

In Or Out?

The LIFE article spurred the Silver State’s gambling regulators to act. In April, they demanded that the eight licensees with financial interests in Cuban casinos choose Nevada or Cuba, as they no longer could operate in both places.

All of the gamblers selected Nevada and claimed they’d divest their Cuban holdings but noted it might take some time.

A new Nevada regulation followed that bars all state gambling licensees from engaging in casino operations in any other state or nation.

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* Gambling licensees and/or casino owners or operators are referred to as gamblers

Sources

Photo from the University of Miami Libraries’ Digital Collections

When Fulgencio Batista returned to power as president in Cuba in 1952, he aimed to foster a gambling empire from which he could generate revenue for his coffers. To facilitate casino development, he and his administration:

• Restricted gambling licenses to hotels or nightclubs worth $1 million or more

• Waived taxes, which were as high as 70%, on all building materials imported for new hotels

• Deemed all casino pit bosses, stickmen and dealers to be skilled technicians, so they’d qualify for entry into Cuba under two-year visas versus the typical six-month ones afforded to incoming workmen

• Subsidized construction costs of new hotels

Government-backed banks provided $6 million of the $14 million to construct the Havana Riviera, for instance. The pension fund of the Catering Workers Union of Cuba provided most of the $24 million for the Havana Hilton. Casino operators typically leased space for their operations from the hotel owners; a rate of $1 million per year was typical.

Consequently, lavish hotel and casino construction boomed, as did the gambling business. Cuba became what Mexico had been during Prohibition — a playground for wealthy Americans.

“Havana’s casinos are elegant salons with expensive chandeliers, brocade draperies and a mink-stole clientele … At the roulette tables the smallest chips are a quarter. At the craps tables they are a dollar — but nobody who really amounts to anybody thinks of betting less than a $5 chip,” described LIFE magazine (March 10, 1958).

Government taxes on the new casinos “were set ridiculously low: $25,000 for a license plus 20 percent of the profits,” LIFE reported. While this was the official cost, the true under-the-table fee was $250,000. “And no one has even tried to guess how big a cut the politicians demand at the end of the month.”

Further, Batista’s brother-in-law, Roberto Fernandez y Miranda, had a monopoly on the country’s slot machines from which he collected half the profits.

Las Vegas Gamblers Want In

Despite the corruption in Cuba (or perhaps because of it), eight Nevada licensees perceived an opportunity to make money by capitalizing on Havana’s gambling trend and dropped at least $400,000 into casinos there.

• Owner Wilbur Clark and associates, Thomas McGinty, Moe Dalitz and Morris Kleinmann, of the Desert Inn in Las Vegas leased space adjoining the Hotel Nacional de Cuba in which they opened and operated a $1 million casino called Wilbur Clark’s Casino International.

• Hy Abrams, owner, and Benjamin “Bugsy” Siegel, investor, in the Sands in Las Vegas, and Jack Davis, investor in the Fremont hotel-casino in Las Vegas held a share of the Havana Riviera casino.

• Clifford Jones, co-owner of the Thunderbird hotel in Las Vegas, owned an interest in the Havana Hilton’s casino.

For these men, their investments were ultra-high risk and tenuous, as government depravity was rampant and political strife was high in Cuba.

“For the gamblers, the one completely unknown factor is the position of Batista himself,” LIFE noted. “If he fell from power, the gambling mob would have to make a whole new set of deals with a different bunch of politicians. The gambling trade might slow down.”

Sources

To crush subversive or revolutionary activity, Cuban President Fulgencio Batista suspended for 45 days all constitutional guarantees in the country, including the right to public assembly. Yet, he allowed gambling operations to continue.

Photo from freeimages.com: “Poker Chips 2” by Kevin van der Draai

1944-1945

In the final year of World War II, three related mandates hampered Nevada’s gambling clubs, but, in general, casinos willingly withstood the hits out of a sense of patriotic duty.

These directives, imposed by the United States’ war mobilization agency, followed a national call for roughly 200,000 more “able-bodied men, willing to do hard work” between the ages of 17 and 35 (Nevada State Journal, Nov. 21, 1944). The requirements, listed chronologically, were:

• In January, all horse and dog racing in the country was to stop immediately, which it did. The federal government initiated this to combat absenteeism, as much as 30 percent, at war plants located near the racetracks.

The casinos offering betting on these sports suffered a decrease in business. Whereas customers no longer could place bets on races at U.S. places like Pimlico, Jamaica, Belmont and Narragansett, they still could get some action at certain local casinos that subscribed to a race track wire service that covered races held in Mexico and Cuba.

• In early February, more than 300 of Nevada’s gambling dealers, bartenders and other non-essential workers were to begin working at plants and industries in Nevada and on the West Coast, which were crucial to the war effort. Consequently, casinos lost key personnel.

• All U.S. entertainment spots were to close at midnight starting on Feb. 26. They included gambling enterprises, bars, night clubs, theaters, sports arenas, dance halls, roadhouses, saloons, bars and the like, public and private. Restaurants that served food only (no alcohol) were exempted. Affected businesses could reopen at 8 a.m.

“The action is the most drastic of its kind yet promulgated in Washington during the present war,” noted the Nevada State Journal (Feb. 20, 1945).

The reason for the midnight closing was to conserve coal, manpower and transportation and help boost morale of active military service members, all of whom had been prohibited from entering or being in those places after midnight. It also was to help reduce the rate of civilian workers employed in critical industries not showing up to work.

Not only did Nevada’s casinos experience a drop in business, but, also, those open around the clock had to lay off their graveyard shift workers.

Relief From The Dictates

The Germans surrendered on May 8, 1945. The following day, the U.S. director of war mobilization immediately abolished the midnight curfew and the ban on horse and dog racing.

Sources

Photo from pond5.com: “American Flag Background” by ozaiachin

Casino International in Haiti

1959

In February, The New York Times outed Clifford A. Jones. It brought to light that he held gambling interests in and out of Nevada, which The Silver State’s gaming law then prohibited.

It was no secret that Jones owned shares in the Thunderbird, Palace Club, Golden Nugget and Lucky Strike casinos in Las Vegas.

What The Silver State’s gambling regulators didn’t know and learned from the newspaper story was that Jones co-owned the Casino International in Haiti and planned to open three more gambling houses, the first in Aruba, then Puerto Rico and Jamaica.

The year before, the state mandated that all licensees with casino interests both in and out of Nevada choose one or the other locale or risk losing their Nevada gambling license. At that time, Jones indicated he’d stay domestic and divest his only international holding — the Havana Hilton in Cuba.

Law, Politics, Gambling

Jones was an attorney with the law firm Jones & Wiener and had represented several major Las Vegas casinos. He also had been the state lieutenant governor from 1947 through 1954.

“In a town [Las Vegas] built on ‘juice,’ or connections, Jones’s nickname was ‘the Big Juice.’ He was at the center of an ecosystem in which mob money guys, state officials and earnest gamblers moved with ease,” wrote David Schwartz in Grandissimo: The First Emperor of Las Vegas, a book about Jay J. Sarno, the mastermind behind Caesars Palace and Circus Circus.

The State Reacts

Upon learning the content of the Times piece, Nevada Governor Grant Sawyer asked gaming investigators to determine whether or not it was factual. It was.

Also true was that Jones still owned his gambling interest in Cuba! Getting out of it perhaps wasn’t easy or even possible, as it might not have been up to him. Jones was believed to be the front man of that casino for powerful, big-time mobsters, Meyer Lansky and Abner “Longie” Zwillman, the real principals.

In March, gambling regulators ordered Jones to show cause why he shouldn’t lose his Nevada gambling license.

Jones Chooses Again

At the hearing he confirmed he remained financially involved in at least two casinos outside of Nevada. Jones agreed to disengage from the Havana Hilton by March 21 but asserted he’d continue as a proprietor of the International Casino in Haiti.

Given Jones’ stance, presumably the state informed the gambler he’d have to forfeit his ownership in the Las Vegas casinos.

By July, the Nevada gambler had done just that. He’d:

• Sold his 2.3 percent holding in the Lucky Strike to Monte Bernstein
• Sold his 16 percent ownership of the Thunderbird to Joe Wells
• Sold his interest in the company that operated the Silver Palace also to Joe Wells
• Transferred his 12,500 shares of Golden Nugget stock to G.C. “Buck” Blaine

Jones finally had made good on his promise, albeit a revised one.

Sources

1947-1952

Despite New York mobsters trying to scare her off, an ambitious woman — Elaine Townsend (née Margaret Helgeson) — held her own as a gambling operator in the late 1940s. Bright, young and gorgeous, she parlayed her chutzpah, commerce degree and drive into making gobs of money in Cuba.

Big Screen Worthy

Her exploits in Havana among gangsters, politicians, movie stars and secret agents were so compelling that Lucille Ball and Desi Arnaz planned to make a movie about them with Ball in the lead role but never did. However, a different film about Townsend — Razzle Dazzle: The Elaine Townsend Story — is slated for release on Aug. 1, 2018.

Entrepreneurial Endeavor

The Wyoming-born go-getter traveled to the Caribbean island early in 1947, at age 27.

“I’d heard Cuba was the spot for free enterprise — and I was as determined as ever to make a lot of money,” said Townsend, the daughter of a cattle rancher who’d grown up poor (The American Weekly, Sept. 5, 1948).

Once there, she heard the gambling concession at the Gran Casino Nacional, Cuba’s only legalized gaming spot at the time, was being sold for the upcoming season. Soon after, the tall blonde learned it only had been awarded to the New York Mafia in previous years. She consulted some attorneys who told her women didn’t run games in their country.

None of that deterred her, however, and she bid on the enterprise.

After negotiating for months with officials, Townsend bought the dice and chemin de fer (a variant of baccarat) operations for $30,000 ($329,000 today). She opened them in July, four months before the New York gamblers typically did.

The Confrontation

She soon found herself face to face with three of those very men from The Big Apple in the Gran Casino.

“We heard you grabbed off the dice and chemmy gimmicks here,” one of them said (The American Weekly, Sept. 5, 1948). “We came down, hoping to grab them off ourselves, and this Cuban guy says, ‘Miss Townsend got them. They’re all hers. They’re not for sale.’ We thought maybe it was a gag. It isn’t true, is it?”

When she confirmed that it was, another of the trio told her the players would “clean her out in a week.”

“What you want to do it for, honey?” the first man asked. “It’s not your racket. You got … well, you got class. You ought to be home or someplace.”

“I don’t want to go home. I want to make a lot of money,” Townsend said.

“Look, we’ll give you $10,000 more than you laid out if you’ll sell to us,” the third man said.

“No.”

“Twenty thousand?”

“I’m sorry, gentlemen, but I’ve gone through a lot of anxiety over this thing. I’ve got to be repaid for that. And so far it’s been fun. I like it. I’m going to stick with it.”

The La Cosa Nostra representatives left her alone after that.

Never having worked in gambling before, Townsend hired New Yorker Connie Immerman, not a mobster, to run the games under her watch, as he’d run them years earlier. Most recently, Immerman, with two of his brothers, had co-owned and run Connie’s Inn, a Harlem night club from 1923 to 1934, when the Depression caused them to close it.

In Havana, Townsend went on to own an interest in the Jockey Club casino and operate the games at the Montmartre after Fulgencio Batista, who usurped the Cuban presidency by coup in 1952, legalized gambling in hotels, clubs and cabarets in 1954.

Amassing Cash

Before entering the gambling industry, Townsend had toiled to earn, save and invest her money. After working her way through and graduating from the University of Denver in Colorado at age 19, she worked, often simultaneously, an assortment of jobs — teaching, selling real estate and modeling.

In 1940, at 20 years old, she visited friends in Honolulu and, after seeing the potential to make money there, she stayed. First, she ran a photo studio. Then, with the start of World War II, she opened a chain of hot dog stands, to which she eventually added a costume jewelry counter. She also bought the pool table concession in an arcade. With her income, she played the stock market … successfully.

Subsequently, she investigated business opportunities in Mexico but, instead, wound up in Cuba, just seven years after her first entrepreneurial effort.

Sources