Reno, Nevada, 1940s

1945-1946

In the Bank Club, a co-proprietor of a local gambling saloon, Andrew Jackson “Jack” Blackman, shot to death James Lannigan, a small-time thug, on October 30, 1944, an action for which he was acquitted.

In the Palace Club, bouncer Frank Richardson brutally assaulted Alfred E. Cushman on November 11, 1945, leading to a legal resolution in Cushman’s favor.

In the Town House, four employees, on July 9, 1946, bound and beat up Edwin X. Beisel, to whom the court also awarded damages.

“It is nothing out of the ordinary to have disturbances, petty quarrels and arguments in such establishments. The nature of the business invites such occurrences and in order that responsible order may be preserved it has long been the custom to employ ‘strong arm’ boys who can throw out the disturbing elements” noted the Reno Evening Gazette (Jan. 22, 1945).

The above and other high-profile crimes in Reno, Nevada casinos got some locals considering changes to the status quo of security in gambling houses, to solve in part what had become the “bouncer problem” (Nevada State Journal, Dec. 12, 1945).

Distinctive Attire Suggested

In 1945, a Washoe County grand jury recommended mandating that anyone policing in gambling clubs, saloons and the like wear a uniform or easily be identified while working. Later that year, Dr. Earl T. Martin of the Veterans of Foreign Affairs asked the city council to require bouncers to wear uniforms. He argued that patrolmen identified as such by their garb would have a psychological effect on guests, particularly current and former military members, and go a long way toward helping maintain order in gambling establishments. Although the councilmembers agreed to review Martin’s recommendation, nothing came of it. 

Police Officers V. Employees

In the following year, 1946, the third iteration of an ordinance on the issue was introduced at a Reno City Council meeting. It required that all gambling places with more than six game tables or other devices (excluding slot machines), have a uniformed Reno Police Department officer on the premises.

It required the gambling houses to pay the city clerk wages for these officers — $250 (about $3,200 today) per month per officer — and the city then in turn would pay the officers. The monthly salary was to graduate from $200 during their first year of service to $205 in their second and $215 subsequently.

The proposed ordinance also mandated that gambling licensees post a $10,000 ($129,000) bond, holding the city harmless from any liability from damages occurred during an incident involving a city police officer.

A Mysterious End

The council deferred action on the proposed ordinance at the subsequent meeting then didn’t act on it at the following two ones. The measure never even got to a vote.

“No reason for allowing the bill to die was ever mentioned in open meeting of the council,” reported the Reno Evening Gazette (April 5, 1946).

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1949-1950

The Den opened its doors in spring 1949. The proprietors — Donald A. Bentley, John R. Hope and Robert M. Colahan — likely were hoping for at least as long a run as their predecessors’, nine-plus years, when the property was called the Louvre. But it didn’t happen.

In mid-September 1949, from the basement of that Reno, Nevada saloon/gambling club, a burglar punched a hole in the wall near the door, reached in and opened the lock. After entry, he stole a cash box said to contain $586 (about $5,900 today) in cash and checks, a valuable watch and an agate ring.

The next month, a seemingly unprovoked assault occurred. While a Fallon resident, Francis N. Coolbrith, talked to the bartender in the club, around 7 a.m., a stocky man in his early 30s punched Coolbrith in the face, fracturing the bone below one of his eyes.

The next year, on New Year’s Day, a man named Lloyd McCrorey entered The Den at about 5 a.m. A short time later, gunshots hit him in both legs and severed his right pinkie finger. The victim told officers he didn’t know who’d shot him or why, and all patrons claimed they hadn’t seen anything. Police identified the weapon as a German Luger from the spent shell casings but not the shooter. 

Too Much Crime

When The Den’s gambling license came up for renewal, Chief of Police L.R. Greeson recommended denial because the establishment, in his mind, was a nuisance. The determining body, the Reno City Council, concurred in a unanimous vote.

Bentley, the principal owner, protested, arguing he hadn’t been warned of impending trouble.

“That’s putting us out in the street without enough money to get out of town,” he said.

Mayor Francis R. Smith responded, “I think you are aware of all the reasons the license was not renewed.”

Bentley pleaded for a special permit, at a minimum, so he and his co-owners could operate the bar for a bit longer to make enough money to leave town.

The council members said no, meaning the enterprise had to close immediately.

Hot Way Out

Six hours later, at about 1:15 a.m., a small blaze broke out in The Den’s lowest floor. The fire department extinguished it easily and concluded it had been man-made and ignited in a pile of boxes.

About two hours later, while firemen were questioning Bentley, a second, larger fire erupted in the same room, that one gutting the building and damaging four adjacent businesses.

Authorities, who suspected arson, conducted numerous interviews. Witnesses said little, only that they’d smelled gas fumes just before they saw the fire, which they described as scorching and fast spreading.

“We seem to be dealing with close-mouthed individuals,” Fire Chief Karl L. Evans said, adding that the inferno hadn’t been a rekindling of the first and, too, had been set deliberately.

Also seemingly suspicious was that someone, prior to the flames, had emptied The Den’s slot machine’s coin box. That had required removal of the back paneling, which appeared to have been done carefully but replacement of it, haphazardly.

Bentley said a handful of insurance policies on The Den were in place but had burned, and as such, he didn’t know their value. In fact, the building and its contents were indemnified for $25,000 (a roughly $250,000 value today) — $10,000 for equipment, $5,000 for merchandise and $10,000 for interruption of business.

In spring, the operators of Benetti Novelty Co., a slot machine and juke box distributor, Louis Benetti and Jack Douglass, sued The Den’s proprietors for payment on four unpaid notes totaling $6,540. Douglass, also the landowner, asked the court to terminate his lease agreement with the trio, which they’d breached by not maintaining their liquor license.

The defendants failed to answer the suit, therefore, a judgment was entered by default. Judge William McKnight ordered them to return the property to Douglass and to pay the plaintiffs $8,000, including attorneys’ fees and interest (about $80,000 today).

Financial Recovery Fizzles

In July, Bentley, Colahan and Hope sued the New York Fire Insurance Co. and the Orient Insurance Co. of Connecticut because neither had paid on The Den’s policies. They asked for $10,000 from the former for damage to the club and $1,000 from the latter for lost inventory.

The insurance companies filed a demurrer, or an objection that the insureds’ point was invalid. The judge, though, overruled it and mandated they reply to the complaints against them within 15 days.

They did, noting The Den owners hadn’t submitted the requisite itemized list of items lost in the fire within the stipulated 60 days following the event. They hadn’t provided any records at all.

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Photo from freeimages.com: “Fire” by Rick Cowan

1951

Prior to the July grand opening of the new Greyhound Lines Inc. bus terminal at 224 S. Center Street in Reno, Pyramid Securities Inc. applied for a gambling license and permission to offer games of chance within the new Northern Nevada facility. The request specifically was for craps, 21 and roulette, one of each. The company’s executives were Carl Inskeep, Joe Caulk, Emmett Shea and H.M. Hicks.

The Nevada Tax Commissioners indicated they’d permit the small casino if the games of chance were walled off from the depot’s waiting room.

The decision was left to the Reno City Council.

A Body Divided

Councilman Bill Ligon opposed the gambling proposal. He disliked the idea of visitors arriving in Reno on the bus seeing gambling right away and wanted to prevent that. Surely having a gambling operation in a place “frequented by children and women” would lead to outside criticism of gambling and, possibly, negative consequences, such as federal legislation against it, he said (Nevada State Journal, June 26, 1951).

The industry, legal and illegal, already was in the spotlight due to Senator Carey “Estes” Kefauver and his eponymous committee openly investigating gambling and organized crime in the United States.

Councilman Roy Bankofier, who stood with Ligon, added that gambling is a privileged business, the growth of which the council must control. 

Councilman Tom Harvey favored granting the license. “Gambling is part of our economy,” he said. “Why single out this particular case at this particular time? Would you object to a grocery store going in there? That’s a business, too.”

“It’s a different type of business,” said Ligon. “Gambling is a very important part of our economy. Let’s protect it. Gambling is a business that must be restricted if we’re going to hang onto it.”

Councilman Marhsall Guisti said he couldn’t approve distinguishing between businesses but believed gambling should be contained in one part of Reno.

Attorney Richard Blakey, representing Pyramid Securities, reiterated to the agency that the gaming area in the bus station would be separated by wall from the waiting room and as such, gambling wouldn’t be forced upon anyone. Rather, they’d have to seek it out if they so desired.

Blakey added that slot machines, which are considered gaming devices, are allowed in other bus terminals in Reno. “Should there be distinction between kinds of gambling permitted?” he asked.

The Final Answer

The council vote was a 3-to-3 tie, which Mayor Francis R. Smith was left to break. He voted no, thereby officially denying Pyramid Securities its gambling request for the depot.

Not A Complete Kibosh

In a different, previous application, though, Pyramid Securities had asked the Reno City Council for permission to operate a bar and slot machines in that same new Greyhound depot.

After much discussion, the members allowed it but with conditions. The bar had to be separated from the waiting room and all window glass had to be painted or frosted so it couldn’t be seen through.

When Reno’s new Greyhound Lines station debuted in July 1951, inside was the Oak Room bar with its 27 slot machines open for business. Eight more working slots sat at the facility’s Lake Street entrance.

Other depot amenities included a cafeteria, soda fountain, newsstand and sizable lobby.

“The building is one of the largest and most modern of its kind in the Pacific area,” noted the Nevada State Journal (July 26, 1951).

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