1952

“One of the members of the Journal news staff stopped in at a [Reno, Nevada] casino one night last week, put a nickel in a slot machine and hit the jackpot. The attendant came with $7.50 and gave him another nickel to take the machine off pay.

He did it — you guessed it — three more bars. The attendant set off to fetch another $7.50.

Such a thing happens once in 50,000 tries” (Nevada State Journal, “Around Town” column, Dec. 7, 1952).

Cactus Pete’s casino in Jackpot, Nevada in 1960

1960

When one rural Nevada town grew into a gambling hot spot in the mid-1900s, the gamblers in another loudly grumbled.

Soon after Idaho outlawed slot machines, its last vestige of legal gambling, the sagebrush- and broomgrass-covered land 47 miles south of Twin Falls, just across the border, began to evolve into a small community — Jackpot. It grew to consist of about 125 trailers (no houses), two motels, a grocery store and a beauty shop.

Development started in 1954 with the debut of the Horshu Club. The 93, Cactus Pete’s, Tex’s Gateway and Diamond Jim’s then followed. Together, these casinos offered 320 slot machines, four pits of 21, roulette and dice tables, keno and wheels of fortune along with free meals and stage entertainment.

By 1960, the town’s five gambling houses drew thousands of players per year,* many from nearby Idaho Falls. To capitalize on that city’s pool of players, Jackpot’s gamblers provided free nightly, round-trip transportation by bus.

Gamblers Protest About, Well, Other Gamblers

Rival casino owners in Elko, which officially became a city in 1917, claimed the Jackpot clubs were exploiting Twin Falls’ economy. They predicted law enforcement and public service problems would arise in Jackpot and warned the end result would be Twin Falls business owners lobbying for a federal gambling ban.

“Frankly, the Elko gamblers don’t like the competition — they are 115 miles farther from the Idaho line,” wrote the Oakland Tribune (Nov. 13, 1960).

The state’s gaming regulators noted the complaints and thought they might be valid in part. They wondered if casinos in the rural border regions might harm the industry overall, particularly because those places were difficult for them to oversee and because of the payoff scandal involving a gambling watchdog in the rural town of Wells that had occurred earlier in the decade.

The Nevada Gaming Control Board launched an investigation, and in November 1960, conducted a survey of Twin Falls residents about their attitude toward gambling in Jackpot. It revealed that 18 percent favored it, 30 percent opposed it and 53 percent were neutral.

Were Nevada’s gaming agencies to forbid gambling in Jackpot, it would set a dangerous precedent, said the attorney for the community, Leo Puccinelli.

“Nevada gambling was built by competition and it will be in trouble if the established clubs can win monopolies with legislation,” he added. “After all, the major part of Nevada gambling is on a border basis. Only Elko is in central Nevada, while Reno and Lake Tahoe cater to Northern California and Las Vegas to Southern California” (Oakland Tribune, Sept. 16, 1960).

Jackpot’s gamblers remained mum on the issue, hoping it would go away … which eventually it did, leaving them to continue running their casinos without impediment by the state.

*Total gaming revenue from Elko County, including Elko and Jackpot, then was between $4 and $5 million ($32.5 and $40.7 million today) per year.

Sources

1961

Dick Seller boasted that, within a year, a new luxury gambling resort would be built 100 miles from civilization, on a 100-acre parcel he owned (and named Holiday) in Humboldt County in Nevada’s desert near Highway 140 and the Oregon border.

As for whether it would be successful, he said, “Look at Jackpot,” referring to the popular Nevada gambling town at the Idaho border. “That just grew in the desert. This is a planned jackpot, a real jackpot — a bonanza” (Reno Evening Gazette, Oct. 27, 1961). Yet Seller’s project never came to fruition.

The Big Bertha introduced in the 1960s wasn’t a circus lady or a German howitzer; it was a made-in-Nevada slot machine that became iconic.

Named for its size, the three-reel device stood 5 to 6 feet tall and weighed about 700 pounds. Along with its ample dimensions, the potential $1,000 (about $7,800 today) jackpot attracted players. One pull of the jumbo lever cost $1 ($8 today).

“[The oversized slots] have a carnival quality. They draw people,” William “Si” Redd told the Nevada State Journal (July 8, 1973).

The chances of hitting a jackpot on Big Bertha were terrible, estimated at 1 in 15 billion. But some players did win.

Beating The Odds

Here are five such cases reported by various newspapers, from oldest to most recent:

1) $26,566 (1975, January): James and Brenda Harrington, San Pablo, California residents, got married on December 31, 1974. The following day, at the Eldorado Hotel Casino in Reno, Nevada, Brenda put $1 in a Big Bertha offering a progressive jackpot. Four red sevens came up, and the couple won $26,566.

2) $180,886 (1977, April): Rodolfo Jose Salak of San Francisco, California spent $60, in increments of $5, on the double progressive Big Bertha slot machine at Harolds Club in Reno. Four Harolds Club or Bust covered wagons filled the row, and he hit the $180,886 jackpot.

3) $10,000 (1977, December): Raymond and Karen Weber of Sparks, Nevada were leaving the Plantation Casino (now Rail City Casino) in their hometown when Raymond deposited three silver dollars into Big Bertha. Four sevens appeared; the payout was $10,000.

4) $314,741 (1980, August): Clark Petrochilos and Bill Ragland from Fresno, California took turns playing Big Bertha with $5 tokens, also at Reno’s Harolds Club. After five hours and $5,000, they hit four wagons and $314,741.

5) $473,645 (1981, August): Norman and Barbara Mabie “decided to play the slot machine Wednesday after rejecting two other alternatives for the day, shopping and sunbathing,” reported the Orange County Register (Aug. 6, 1981). At Harolds Club in Reno, Barbara inserted the dollars into Big Bertha, and Norman pulled the handle. Eighty-four dollars later, the two won $473,645.

Redd: Bigger Is Better

By 1972, more than 85 Big Berthas were in operation throughout The Silver State. These devices originally were designed and made by Currency Gaming Devices Inc. (later Bally Distributing Company), the enterprise of Dick Graves (of Sparks Nugget Lodge fame). Subsequently, the company SIRCOMA, which stood for Si Redd’s Coin Machines, Redd being the owner, spent $100,000 to $150,000 (roughly $586,000 to $880,000 today) on developing an even larger Big Bertha, which he dubbed Super Bertha.

Super Bertha

At 6 feet tall, 10 feet wide and 5 feet deep, Super Bertha was recorded in the 1973 Guinness World Records book as the largest slot machine. It contained eight reels and a 5-horsepower motor.

This device required $10 ($55) minimum for the potential $1 million ($5.5 million today) jackpot. However, it accommodated bets as low as $1 for lower payoffs. Odds for winning the million were an estimated 1 in 25 billion.

Super Bertha first appeared in 1973 in Caesars Palace and the Four Queens Casino — both in Las Vegas, Nevada.

Sources