Joe Conforte was born in 1926 in Sicily. He emigrated with his family to the United States in 1937 and settled in Dorchester, Massachusetts.[1]
By the 1950s, Conforte was a cab driver in the San Francisco area. He drove a cab in Oakland, California taking G.I.'s from the Oakland Army Base and sailors from Alameda Naval Air Station and the Oakland Navy Supply Base during World War II. Conforte would take the military men to brothels on the border of Alameda County and Contra Costa County. He moved to Nevada in 1955 and opened the Triangle River Ranch brothel in Wadsworth, an illegal brothel at the junction of Washoe, Storey and Lyon counties. In 1959, Conforte served 22 months in jail after attempting to extort the Washoe County district attorney. He served 2 1/2 years in prison for income tax evasion in 1963.
Joe Conforte and his wife Sally Burgess Conforte took over the Mustang Bridge Ranch in Storey County in 1967. (The name of the brothel was later changed to Mustang Ranch.) In 1971, Storey County made prostitution legal and licensed Conforte as a brothel owner.
In April 1977 Joe and Sally Conforte were arrested on 10 counts of income tax evasion. She was fined $10,000 and given a suspended sentence; he faced a minimum five years in prison and $10,000 fine. Conforte appealed his conviction but fled the country in 1980 when he lost the appeal. He later returned and served a reduced sentence.[2]
Conforte fled to Brazil in 1991 ahead of a federal grand jury handing up numerous indictments in 1995 and 1998. The Brazilian Supreme Court ruled in 1999 that the extradition treaty between Brazil and the United States did not cover bankruptcy fraud.[3]
I knew Joe, a little, and often dealt craps to him at the old Primm in Reno.
He is a part of Nevada history, a part not often mentioned, but NEVERTHELESS, a part of its rich history.
Monday, June 29, 2009
Saturday, June 20, 2009
More turning out
I was a dealer trainee, intensive training on the crap tables, trained
by other dealers, on slow tables, or on the second floor. I was
scared, nervous and completely out of my "realm," but I had a job,
a dealer trainee, at the Nevada Club, in Reno, Nevada. A lifestyle I
had only seen in movies, but did find fascinating.
I would go in at 3 AM, report to Mark, go to a table, and start
training, handling the silver dollars, the stick, moving the dice
around, bets, even money, two to one, six to five, thirty to one,
hundreds of different bets, worrying about them, while trying to
handle two hands full of silver dollars, and not dropping them, but
smoothly approaching a stack of checks, a brisk move by the index
finger, making the payoff an exact measurement of the bet.
It was very intense, and fast pace, getting ready for "live" action on
a table. Training to be a dealer, and actually dealing, were two
entirely different things,
I trained for about a month, Thelma Ganz, Danny Fagan, Bettye
Johnson, Jimmy Jones, so many, all "old timers" in the gaming
industry. In the picture to the right, the 21 dealer in the pink
sweater in Bettye Johnson, and standing in the background on her
left is Jimmie Jones, both good friends. I think this postcard picture
was taken in the early 1950's.
During my time, there were not that many casinos in the country,
at least legal ones, Nevada hat the only legal gambling, with the
exception of California, which had some legal poker houses in
Gardena. There were not that many dealers, it was a closed
fraternity, primarily old timers from "back east" who had done it all
in their time. So, I was one of a small number of dealer.
I went in one morning, went to the "post" and got my instructions
from Mark to open table 6, he gave me the racks of silver and
everything I needed to open the table.
I took the cover off the table, loaded the silver and the checks, got
out the dice, got the stick and was ready.
"Here, give me those dice, let me give it a try."
One of the most recognizable voices had said that, I looked down
at the end of the table, and there was Jimmy Durante, in person.
I slide him the dice bowl, he took a pair, made a bet, and for about
a half hour, I dealt craps to Jimmy Durante. My first celeb. We got
a little pratter going on back and forth as a small crowd started to
gather. It was 3:30 in the morning, and he had finished his last
show at the Riverside Hotel, down by the Truckee River.
He stayed for about a half hour, we chatted back and forth, and he
was a very gracious man.
My first celebrity to deal to, the first of many.
My "turning out" as a dealer
I was discharged from the Navy in April of 1956, and flew to Reno where my wife was, at that time. After a few days I was looking for a job, looked through the paper, and the Nevada Club was hiring. So, I got cleaned up and headed for downtown.
We were living in between Reno and Sparks at the time, gravel road, near the stockyards, the wild, wild, west.
I had heard rumors about Fitz from everyone, words like mafia, Purple Gang, Dictator, hard to work for, gruff old man, all sorts of information to make me nervous.
I headed downtown, found a place to park, parking was allowed on the streets in those days, and there was plenty of parking. I parked just across the tracks,
near the train station.
I headed down Virginia Street, down and alley, and found the back door, of the Nevada Club. I went inside, asked an aproned employee where the office was, she pointed it out, and I headed in that direction, to the cashiers cage, to face Fitz. He was behind the cashiers cage, white shirt, tie suspenders.
I don't know what I said, but he asked me a few questions, brief background, married, from where, family, what does your Father do, your Mother, service, schooling, that was about it.
He told me to head for the police station and register and get a background check.
I don't remember any of that, but I did go, got fingerprinted, and after a while,
was given a card and told to return to the club.
I did as told, Fitz was still in the cage, he looked at the card, looked at me, "Come in at 3 in the morning, wear a white shirt and a tie."
That was it, I had a job, didn't know what it was, but I knew I had to be in at 3am, white shirt and tie.
I look back on that meeting and try to remember, but I was so nervous and excited, it all became sort of a blurr.
Remember, we are talking the mid 50's, no computers, I don't think I even filled out an employment form. I think all that information was gotten my first morning of work. I think Fitz wanted to make sure I would show up before getting any of that information.
I later found out there were a few things he liked about me, some college, 4 years in the Navy, married, young daughter, and my Father was a Doctor, and, I
never drove a cab or was a bartender, two jobs that were no nos, for Fitz.
He hired a bar manager, but let the manager do all the hiring of bartenders.
We were living in between Reno and Sparks at the time, gravel road, near the stockyards, the wild, wild, west.
I had heard rumors about Fitz from everyone, words like mafia, Purple Gang, Dictator, hard to work for, gruff old man, all sorts of information to make me nervous.
I headed downtown, found a place to park, parking was allowed on the streets in those days, and there was plenty of parking. I parked just across the tracks,
near the train station.
I headed down Virginia Street, down and alley, and found the back door, of the Nevada Club. I went inside, asked an aproned employee where the office was, she pointed it out, and I headed in that direction, to the cashiers cage, to face Fitz. He was behind the cashiers cage, white shirt, tie suspenders.
I don't know what I said, but he asked me a few questions, brief background, married, from where, family, what does your Father do, your Mother, service, schooling, that was about it.
He told me to head for the police station and register and get a background check.
I don't remember any of that, but I did go, got fingerprinted, and after a while,
was given a card and told to return to the club.
I did as told, Fitz was still in the cage, he looked at the card, looked at me, "Come in at 3 in the morning, wear a white shirt and a tie."
That was it, I had a job, didn't know what it was, but I knew I had to be in at 3am, white shirt and tie.
I look back on that meeting and try to remember, but I was so nervous and excited, it all became sort of a blurr.
Remember, we are talking the mid 50's, no computers, I don't think I even filled out an employment form. I think all that information was gotten my first morning of work. I think Fitz wanted to make sure I would show up before getting any of that information.
I later found out there were a few things he liked about me, some college, 4 years in the Navy, married, young daughter, and my Father was a Doctor, and, I
never drove a cab or was a bartender, two jobs that were no nos, for Fitz.
He hired a bar manager, but let the manager do all the hiring of bartenders.
The Lodge .... some additional info
FOUND THIS WHILE ON THE INTERNET ..... HEARD RUMORS OF IT, NOTHING MORE
Lincoln Fitzgerald moved from Michigan to Northern Nevada in 1945 and bought into Reno's Nevada Club the following year. Reputedly an accountant for Detroit's Purple Gang, "Fitz," along with partner Danny Sullivan, was extradited to Michigan in 1948 where they were tried on charges of illegal gambling, fined and released.
They returned to Reno shortly thereafter to tend to the club. Whether or not it was because Fitzgerald fell out with his old bosses in Detroit, as one source claims, there is no doubt that on the night of November 18, 1949, he was gunned down in his driveway as he opened his garage door. The gunman fled; some have speculated
that that hit man was none other than the famous gangster "Baby Face" Nelson, who was living in Reno at the time.
Remarkably, Fitz survived the attack. Hospitalized for six months and left with a limp and permanent fear for his life, Fitzgerald hired bodyguards and moved with his wife into the Nevada Club. He reportedly requested that the investigation into his shooting be closed.
Fitzgerald bought the Tahoe Biltmore in Crystal Bay in 1957, renaming it the Nevada Lodge, and opened Fitzgerald's in Reno in 1976. When he did travel to The Lake, his wife Meta took the wheel and two bodyguards sat in back, according to Jim Brockelsby, who worked for Fitz for 30 years.
Though Brockelsby and others are unfamiliar with this story, there's a rumor that on one of those trips Fitzgerald's car was ambushed at Tahoe Meadows—perhaps in an effort to finish the job—but he managed to escape. Though the story can't be substantiated, one knowledgeable source (who chooses to remain anonymous) defends it as true.
I don't question Jim, however, I heard Fitz purchased the Biltmore only after paying some "interest" money to someone. I was in the club the day she left, with a heavy briefcase and a couple of bodyguards. I was under the imrpession that he felt comfortable leaving the club after those negotiations. I remember them visiting the Lodge when I worked there. Fitz seemed to like me, and we often chatted.
Lincoln Fitzgerald moved from Michigan to Northern Nevada in 1945 and bought into Reno's Nevada Club the following year. Reputedly an accountant for Detroit's Purple Gang, "Fitz," along with partner Danny Sullivan, was extradited to Michigan in 1948 where they were tried on charges of illegal gambling, fined and released.
They returned to Reno shortly thereafter to tend to the club. Whether or not it was because Fitzgerald fell out with his old bosses in Detroit, as one source claims, there is no doubt that on the night of November 18, 1949, he was gunned down in his driveway as he opened his garage door. The gunman fled; some have speculated
that that hit man was none other than the famous gangster "Baby Face" Nelson, who was living in Reno at the time.
Remarkably, Fitz survived the attack. Hospitalized for six months and left with a limp and permanent fear for his life, Fitzgerald hired bodyguards and moved with his wife into the Nevada Club. He reportedly requested that the investigation into his shooting be closed.
Fitzgerald bought the Tahoe Biltmore in Crystal Bay in 1957, renaming it the Nevada Lodge, and opened Fitzgerald's in Reno in 1976. When he did travel to The Lake, his wife Meta took the wheel and two bodyguards sat in back, according to Jim Brockelsby, who worked for Fitz for 30 years.
Though Brockelsby and others are unfamiliar with this story, there's a rumor that on one of those trips Fitzgerald's car was ambushed at Tahoe Meadows—perhaps in an effort to finish the job—but he managed to escape. Though the story can't be substantiated, one knowledgeable source (who chooses to remain anonymous) defends it as true.
I don't question Jim, however, I heard Fitz purchased the Biltmore only after paying some "interest" money to someone. I was in the club the day she left, with a heavy briefcase and a couple of bodyguards. I was under the imrpession that he felt comfortable leaving the club after those negotiations. I remember them visiting the Lodge when I worked there. Fitz seemed to like me, and we often chatted.
t
When Fitzgerald and Sullivan re-opened the Nevada Club (from the former Robbins Nevada Club) in 1946, they operated about 20 table games and about 400 slot machines.
By April of 1952 the Nevada Club corporation grew by acquiring the Jacobs Building at 230 North Virginia Street, next door to the original Robbins Nevada Club.
The building which had a front footage of 17 feet and extended 140 feet back to Lincoln Alley, was annexed to the Nevada Club.
Lincoln Fitzgerald used the single-zero Roulette wheel instead of the usual double zero wheel. The single zero lowered the house advantage (sometimes called the vig, which represents the house's cut, or profit from which all overhead must be paid) from 5.26% to a meager 2.7%.
This single zero table attracted many roulette players, especially system players. The wheel stayed in use until the Nevada Club was sold to the the Las Vegas based Lincoln Management Group. The idea of offering a better chance to the customer would and still does send uninformed casino managers into fits of rage.
The Nevada Club was one of the first casinos to install a restaurant on its property. Its fine food and reasonable prices, along with its famous pies and desserts, made the Nevada Club a popular place to eat and gamble.
Business continued to grow. By 1955 the Nevada Club operated about 630 slot machines, 20 Blackjack 21 games, and four craps games.
Though the Nevada Club was smaller than Harolds Club or Harrah's, it had more slot machines, and about the same number of table games. Fitzgerald was one of the first casino operators to see the value of the slot machine.
The Nevada Club always featured Jennings slot machines, regarded as the Rolls Royce of slot machines by those knowledgeable in the industry. Fitzgerald had brought Jennings machines with him from Detroit. They were the most robust, and also the most expensive machines available. Most all the other clubs used either the Mills or Pace machines, and an occasional Buckley or other re-vamps.
In October 1955 the Nevada Club introduced the new four-reel Jennings Buckaroo slot machines. Many of them were still in use in the Nevada Club when it closed in 1997. They were advertised as the first machines with "no lemons or other blanks." A player could win $5,000 with a $1 bet.
The Nevada Club was also famous for the way it paid jackpots. Slot machines in those days prevented the machines from dropping the total amount of a full jackpot, so the casino change person hand-paid the customer with currency.
At the Nevada Club machines dropped twenty coins when a jackpot hit, and the balance of the payout, in coins, was prepackaged in a brown paper bag bearing the Nevada Club logo and handed to the winner. Naturally, with all those coins instantly available to them, many customers played their winnings right back into the machines.
The Jennings slot machines in the Nevada Club were very popular with local players. During the 1950s and 1960s the Nevada Club had as much local slot play as any casino in town.
Fitz and Danny Sullivan had been running a casino since the 1930's, and unlike many of the competition in town, had been doing it successfully. It is clear that compared to the other management teams in Reno, they had the upper hand in terms of casino experience, and it showed in the operation of the Nevada Club from the outset.
Unlike other clubs in Reno, the Nevada Club began in 1946 as a casino, not a saloon, or Bingo parlor. While Harolds Club grew its Western theme and added attractions such as the gun collection, the Nevada Club simply capitalized on the tremendous growth of the post-war boom period.
While Harrah's Club turned the corner from Bingo club, to being an upscale destination with the best amenities, the Nevada Club paid attention to costs, hold, drop, while offering good games with good percentages for the player, and investing where appropriate such as in the Nevada Club restaurant.
While the casino restaurant is commonplace today, the Nevada Club restaurant was among the first inside a casino, and provided excellent food, and was well known for such things as having fresh pastries, a signature item of Fitzgerald's.
Compared to other Reno casinos, the Nevada Club enjoyed keeping many longtime employees. Among the dealers and other casino workers, the Nevada Club was seen as a career destination. Many employees spent 20 or more years at the club.
Fitzgerald was known as "Fitz" or "Boss" to his staff and others in the industry. Especially compared to other operations, Fitz was seen as a tough, no-nonsense boss. This however was a requirement for any successfull casino operation, and avoided much of the trouble experienced in more loosely run operations where cash was known to flow outside with less than 100% honest employees.
The casino business is a tough business, and requires a tough hand to manage with success.
A dealer at the Nevada Club was not permitted to leave the club during their shift. Unlike Harolds Club which actually encouraged husband-wife employment on same shift, such familiarization was not permitted at the Nevada Club.
As in all casinos at the time, anyone suspected of violating any rules of employment, or jeopardizing the club's integrity were fired on the spot. On the other hand, Fitzgerald personally interviewed every prospective employee. The Nevada Club had a pay scale which liberally rewarded long-term employees.
Employees were forbidden to tell anyone how much they earned, but it was was well known around the downtown casinos that "Fitz was good pay."
In many respects, Fitzgerald and the Nevada Club were the direct opposite of Bill Harrah and Harrah's Club next door. Where Harrah was absent much of the time, Fitz was onsite every day, being very hands-on in every aspect of the operation.
In contrast to many other smaller clubs in Reno and certainly all over Nevada, Fitzgerald ran a clean and honest operation. Fitz knew too well how sloppy employee relations could bankrupt an operation, and worked very hard to make the Nevada Club one of the most open and honest casino operations in Nevada. Fitzgerald never had any hint of trouble in any regard with the smooth, legal, and above-board operation of his three casinos, which eventually spelled nothing but good for employees and other Reno citizens.
From 1956 until 1983, The Nevada Club and later the Nevada Lodge and Fitzgerald's Hotel and Casino were run on a daily basis by Lincoln and Meta Fitzgerald. There was no Board of Directors, partners, or Corporate Staff to help out. Time off and vacations for The Boss were short and infrequent. The dedication and work involved in such an enterprise is a true testament to the Fitzgerald's ethic.
Fitz allowed no "Heein and Sheein" and often has his security people check local bars and spots to find employees out with other employees.
If you got fired, he sent a telegram.
He fired one 21 dealer who he "heard" was practicing dealing "seconds" at home. He never hired anyone who had the reputation as a "mechanic."
Fitz trained many of the dealers in Nevada, and preferred it that way. They learned how to deal HIS WAY. Harold and Fitz originally were about the only two who did that. There were no "schools" to learn how to deal. I am sure there are still a few around Nevada who got their start with Fitz.
He never hired, as trainees, anyone who had been a cab driver or a bartender.
He payed his dealers with little brown envelopes, IN CASH.
By April of 1952 the Nevada Club corporation grew by acquiring the Jacobs Building at 230 North Virginia Street, next door to the original Robbins Nevada Club.
The building which had a front footage of 17 feet and extended 140 feet back to Lincoln Alley, was annexed to the Nevada Club.
Lincoln Fitzgerald used the single-zero Roulette wheel instead of the usual double zero wheel. The single zero lowered the house advantage (sometimes called the vig, which represents the house's cut, or profit from which all overhead must be paid) from 5.26% to a meager 2.7%.
This single zero table attracted many roulette players, especially system players. The wheel stayed in use until the Nevada Club was sold to the the Las Vegas based Lincoln Management Group. The idea of offering a better chance to the customer would and still does send uninformed casino managers into fits of rage.
The Nevada Club was one of the first casinos to install a restaurant on its property. Its fine food and reasonable prices, along with its famous pies and desserts, made the Nevada Club a popular place to eat and gamble.
Business continued to grow. By 1955 the Nevada Club operated about 630 slot machines, 20 Blackjack 21 games, and four craps games.
Though the Nevada Club was smaller than Harolds Club or Harrah's, it had more slot machines, and about the same number of table games. Fitzgerald was one of the first casino operators to see the value of the slot machine.
The Nevada Club always featured Jennings slot machines, regarded as the Rolls Royce of slot machines by those knowledgeable in the industry. Fitzgerald had brought Jennings machines with him from Detroit. They were the most robust, and also the most expensive machines available. Most all the other clubs used either the Mills or Pace machines, and an occasional Buckley or other re-vamps.
In October 1955 the Nevada Club introduced the new four-reel Jennings Buckaroo slot machines. Many of them were still in use in the Nevada Club when it closed in 1997. They were advertised as the first machines with "no lemons or other blanks." A player could win $5,000 with a $1 bet.
The Nevada Club was also famous for the way it paid jackpots. Slot machines in those days prevented the machines from dropping the total amount of a full jackpot, so the casino change person hand-paid the customer with currency.
At the Nevada Club machines dropped twenty coins when a jackpot hit, and the balance of the payout, in coins, was prepackaged in a brown paper bag bearing the Nevada Club logo and handed to the winner. Naturally, with all those coins instantly available to them, many customers played their winnings right back into the machines.
The Jennings slot machines in the Nevada Club were very popular with local players. During the 1950s and 1960s the Nevada Club had as much local slot play as any casino in town.
Fitz and Danny Sullivan had been running a casino since the 1930's, and unlike many of the competition in town, had been doing it successfully. It is clear that compared to the other management teams in Reno, they had the upper hand in terms of casino experience, and it showed in the operation of the Nevada Club from the outset.
Unlike other clubs in Reno, the Nevada Club began in 1946 as a casino, not a saloon, or Bingo parlor. While Harolds Club grew its Western theme and added attractions such as the gun collection, the Nevada Club simply capitalized on the tremendous growth of the post-war boom period.
While Harrah's Club turned the corner from Bingo club, to being an upscale destination with the best amenities, the Nevada Club paid attention to costs, hold, drop, while offering good games with good percentages for the player, and investing where appropriate such as in the Nevada Club restaurant.
While the casino restaurant is commonplace today, the Nevada Club restaurant was among the first inside a casino, and provided excellent food, and was well known for such things as having fresh pastries, a signature item of Fitzgerald's.
Compared to other Reno casinos, the Nevada Club enjoyed keeping many longtime employees. Among the dealers and other casino workers, the Nevada Club was seen as a career destination. Many employees spent 20 or more years at the club.
Fitzgerald was known as "Fitz" or "Boss" to his staff and others in the industry. Especially compared to other operations, Fitz was seen as a tough, no-nonsense boss. This however was a requirement for any successfull casino operation, and avoided much of the trouble experienced in more loosely run operations where cash was known to flow outside with less than 100% honest employees.
The casino business is a tough business, and requires a tough hand to manage with success.
A dealer at the Nevada Club was not permitted to leave the club during their shift. Unlike Harolds Club which actually encouraged husband-wife employment on same shift, such familiarization was not permitted at the Nevada Club.
As in all casinos at the time, anyone suspected of violating any rules of employment, or jeopardizing the club's integrity were fired on the spot. On the other hand, Fitzgerald personally interviewed every prospective employee. The Nevada Club had a pay scale which liberally rewarded long-term employees.
Employees were forbidden to tell anyone how much they earned, but it was was well known around the downtown casinos that "Fitz was good pay."
In many respects, Fitzgerald and the Nevada Club were the direct opposite of Bill Harrah and Harrah's Club next door. Where Harrah was absent much of the time, Fitz was onsite every day, being very hands-on in every aspect of the operation.
In contrast to many other smaller clubs in Reno and certainly all over Nevada, Fitzgerald ran a clean and honest operation. Fitz knew too well how sloppy employee relations could bankrupt an operation, and worked very hard to make the Nevada Club one of the most open and honest casino operations in Nevada. Fitzgerald never had any hint of trouble in any regard with the smooth, legal, and above-board operation of his three casinos, which eventually spelled nothing but good for employees and other Reno citizens.
From 1956 until 1983, The Nevada Club and later the Nevada Lodge and Fitzgerald's Hotel and Casino were run on a daily basis by Lincoln and Meta Fitzgerald. There was no Board of Directors, partners, or Corporate Staff to help out. Time off and vacations for The Boss were short and infrequent. The dedication and work involved in such an enterprise is a true testament to the Fitzgerald's ethic.
Fitz allowed no "Heein and Sheein" and often has his security people check local bars and spots to find employees out with other employees.
If you got fired, he sent a telegram.
He fired one 21 dealer who he "heard" was practicing dealing "seconds" at home. He never hired anyone who had the reputation as a "mechanic."
Fitz trained many of the dealers in Nevada, and preferred it that way. They learned how to deal HIS WAY. Harold and Fitz originally were about the only two who did that. There were no "schools" to learn how to deal. I am sure there are still a few around Nevada who got their start with Fitz.
He never hired, as trainees, anyone who had been a cab driver or a bartender.
He payed his dealers with little brown envelopes, IN CASH.
More history
Seeking refuge from legal prosecution in Michigan, on March 22, 1946 Lincoln Fitzgerald, Danny Sullivan, Mert Wertheimer, and Ruby Mathis became partners with Harry and Ed Robbins in "Robbins Nevada Club" in Reno Nevada, shortening the name to simply The Nevada Club. The Robbins' had opened Robbins' Nevada Club in April of 1941 at 224 North Virginia Street.
Lincoln Fitzgerald had been chums with Danny Sullivan and George Weinbrenner since their youth. The three had come from St. Louis to Detroit in the early 20's following the allure of then wide-open Detroit.
After launching the Nevada Club in 1946, Mathis and Wertheimer left the partnership.
By 1949 Mathis and Wertheimer had taken over management of the Riverside Hotel and casino, which they eventually purchased in 1955.
The Wertheimer brothers sold the Riverside in 1958, and both died shortly thereafter.
In 1959 Ruby Mathis bought a portion of the Horseshoe Club across from the Nevada Club, and remained a partner there until it was sold in 1967. Mathis died in Reno in March 1986.
Danny Sullivan, Ed Robbins, and Lincoln Fitzgerald remained partners in the Nevada Club, forming an ownership corporation in 1952. Danny Sullivan died in 1956, and at that time Lincoln Fitzgerald bought out Robbins to become the sole owner of the Nevada Club. Until his death, Danny Sullivan had been the General Manager and Fitzgerald the Casino Manager in the partnership.
George Weinbrenner who grew up with Sullivan and Fitzgerald in St. Louis and went with them to the Detroit area to seek fortune becoming one of the 3 partners in the Chesterfield Club, became the successful owner of the B.C. Wills Company. The B.C. Wills Company was a large gambling supply house, operating in Reno from 1955.
After leaving the Chesterfield partnership with Sullivan and Fitzgerald in 1929, Weinbrenner (known to the Detroit press as "Dutch" Weinbrenner) concentrated on the gambling supplies business. He produced a high quality die and other items for casinos. Funnily enough, the name of the company came from the building Weinbrenner acquired for his business. As "Weinbrenner" was too big for the signs, and it was cheaper to keep those already on the building, Weinbrenner's company acquired the name B.C. Wills. Weinbrenner died in 1949 at age 58, and his son Paul continued to operate the B.C. Wills company after him.
By the late 1940's it seemed that all of the once-illegal gambling machine out of Detroit had relocated to Reno, and become a legitimate operation, free from the harassment of the mob, and the need to pay off the local officials for back-door favors. What it must have been like to finally be in business where a Cop at the door would be more for you and your patron's protection than to put the bite on you.
Fitzgerald had brought with him to Reno many items from the Chesterfield Club, among which were slot machines, tables, and other equipment of the trade such as gambling checks, or chips. These chips with interleaved "CC" on them are highly sought collectibles today, reminders of an interesting past.
Oddly enough,we used to vacation in northern Michigan at Burt Lake and Mullett Lake. Wertheimer had a cabin next to one we rented. Many of the other "members" had cabins on Mullett Lake. Fitz, who hired me some 20 years later, vacationed on Mullett Lake. Small world.
Lincoln Fitzgerald had been chums with Danny Sullivan and George Weinbrenner since their youth. The three had come from St. Louis to Detroit in the early 20's following the allure of then wide-open Detroit.
After launching the Nevada Club in 1946, Mathis and Wertheimer left the partnership.
By 1949 Mathis and Wertheimer had taken over management of the Riverside Hotel and casino, which they eventually purchased in 1955.
The Wertheimer brothers sold the Riverside in 1958, and both died shortly thereafter.
In 1959 Ruby Mathis bought a portion of the Horseshoe Club across from the Nevada Club, and remained a partner there until it was sold in 1967. Mathis died in Reno in March 1986.
Danny Sullivan, Ed Robbins, and Lincoln Fitzgerald remained partners in the Nevada Club, forming an ownership corporation in 1952. Danny Sullivan died in 1956, and at that time Lincoln Fitzgerald bought out Robbins to become the sole owner of the Nevada Club. Until his death, Danny Sullivan had been the General Manager and Fitzgerald the Casino Manager in the partnership.
George Weinbrenner who grew up with Sullivan and Fitzgerald in St. Louis and went with them to the Detroit area to seek fortune becoming one of the 3 partners in the Chesterfield Club, became the successful owner of the B.C. Wills Company. The B.C. Wills Company was a large gambling supply house, operating in Reno from 1955.
After leaving the Chesterfield partnership with Sullivan and Fitzgerald in 1929, Weinbrenner (known to the Detroit press as "Dutch" Weinbrenner) concentrated on the gambling supplies business. He produced a high quality die and other items for casinos. Funnily enough, the name of the company came from the building Weinbrenner acquired for his business. As "Weinbrenner" was too big for the signs, and it was cheaper to keep those already on the building, Weinbrenner's company acquired the name B.C. Wills. Weinbrenner died in 1949 at age 58, and his son Paul continued to operate the B.C. Wills company after him.
By the late 1940's it seemed that all of the once-illegal gambling machine out of Detroit had relocated to Reno, and become a legitimate operation, free from the harassment of the mob, and the need to pay off the local officials for back-door favors. What it must have been like to finally be in business where a Cop at the door would be more for you and your patron's protection than to put the bite on you.
Fitzgerald had brought with him to Reno many items from the Chesterfield Club, among which were slot machines, tables, and other equipment of the trade such as gambling checks, or chips. These chips with interleaved "CC" on them are highly sought collectibles today, reminders of an interesting past.
Oddly enough,we used to vacation in northern Michigan at Burt Lake and Mullett Lake. Wertheimer had a cabin next to one we rented. Many of the other "members" had cabins on Mullett Lake. Fitz, who hired me some 20 years later, vacationed on Mullett Lake. Small world.
More history
Organized crime of the 1920's was exemplified by the Al Capone gang in Chicago, and the Purple Gang and Chesterfield Syndicate in Detroit.
In the 20's, a syndicate would create and work a profitable craps game, or gambling establishment. A syndicate would be associated with the legitimate political authorities of that particular jurisdiction, which would give them more or less a monopoly to operate in the local area. A place wouldn't operate unless they had the permission of the authorities. Nobody would be foolish enough to open an expensive gambling house knowing that the authorities might find it the next day, just to put them out of business, or just to put the bite on them. You just wouldn't do that.
Competing syndicates might divide up the territory. It is a matter of record in Chicago that they even had conferences between the gangsters to divide the territory. When you get into somebody else's territory, then you are in trouble. For example in Chicago, if you wanted to operate a gambling establishment, you first went to the ward committeeman. You would ask to operate a place at such-and-such an address, and the ward committeeman would say, "All right. I will think it over." The ward committeeman would contact the syndicate's representative. The syndicate's representative in this particular area said either "He can go at that address" or "He can't go." If he can go, the syndicate would get 60 percent of the total profits. They put their own man in the place to make certain they got the 60 percent of the profits. All of the protection, everything, was handled by the syndicate.
Mert Wertheimer was the head of the Chesterfield syndicate, concentrating its activities in Macomb County Michigan, near Detroit. It was once politically powerful in Michigan. Mert Wertheimer was by many accounts part of the Purple Gang of Jewish gangsters, so one could assume that the Chesterfield Syndicate operated at least by permission of the Purple Gang.
Mert Wertheimer had been one of America's biggest gamblers. For a time, he was in partnership in Florida with some of the most notorious gangsters of the Nation, including Joe Adonis, alias Joe Doto, Meyer Lansky, Jake Lansky, Vincent (Jimmy Blue Eyes) Alo, and Frank Erickson, of the Frank Costello mob in New York. These men, together with Wertheimer, operated the Colonial Inn, at that time an elaborate gambling place at Hallandale, Fla.
Next to Wertheimer, Lincoln Fitzgerald was the most powerful member of the Chesterfield syndicate. Other members of the syndicate included Lefty Clark, Red Gorman, Mike Brunton, Al Driscoll, and Daniel Sullivan.
The Chesterfield Club gambling house was operated in Chesterfield Township until 1929 by George "Dutch" Weinbrenner, Danny Sullivan and Linc Fitzgerald, who had moved to the Detroit area in the 20's. Eventually Weinbrenner disagreed with Fitzgerald on club operations, and sold his interest to the other two who operated the club until 1946. Though technically illegal, the Chesterfield Club was a full blown casino with numerous slot machines and table games such as craps and 21. Illegal gaming was very popular in many states in the U.S. through the depression era, and was accepted as a fact of life.
I have two of the CC Chesterfield Club blue $20's next to me as sI write this. When I hold them in my hand I can almost feel who all could have held them. They almost radiate with history.
In the 20's, a syndicate would create and work a profitable craps game, or gambling establishment. A syndicate would be associated with the legitimate political authorities of that particular jurisdiction, which would give them more or less a monopoly to operate in the local area. A place wouldn't operate unless they had the permission of the authorities. Nobody would be foolish enough to open an expensive gambling house knowing that the authorities might find it the next day, just to put them out of business, or just to put the bite on them. You just wouldn't do that.
Competing syndicates might divide up the territory. It is a matter of record in Chicago that they even had conferences between the gangsters to divide the territory. When you get into somebody else's territory, then you are in trouble. For example in Chicago, if you wanted to operate a gambling establishment, you first went to the ward committeeman. You would ask to operate a place at such-and-such an address, and the ward committeeman would say, "All right. I will think it over." The ward committeeman would contact the syndicate's representative. The syndicate's representative in this particular area said either "He can go at that address" or "He can't go." If he can go, the syndicate would get 60 percent of the total profits. They put their own man in the place to make certain they got the 60 percent of the profits. All of the protection, everything, was handled by the syndicate.
Mert Wertheimer was the head of the Chesterfield syndicate, concentrating its activities in Macomb County Michigan, near Detroit. It was once politically powerful in Michigan. Mert Wertheimer was by many accounts part of the Purple Gang of Jewish gangsters, so one could assume that the Chesterfield Syndicate operated at least by permission of the Purple Gang.
Mert Wertheimer had been one of America's biggest gamblers. For a time, he was in partnership in Florida with some of the most notorious gangsters of the Nation, including Joe Adonis, alias Joe Doto, Meyer Lansky, Jake Lansky, Vincent (Jimmy Blue Eyes) Alo, and Frank Erickson, of the Frank Costello mob in New York. These men, together with Wertheimer, operated the Colonial Inn, at that time an elaborate gambling place at Hallandale, Fla.
Next to Wertheimer, Lincoln Fitzgerald was the most powerful member of the Chesterfield syndicate. Other members of the syndicate included Lefty Clark, Red Gorman, Mike Brunton, Al Driscoll, and Daniel Sullivan.
The Chesterfield Club gambling house was operated in Chesterfield Township until 1929 by George "Dutch" Weinbrenner, Danny Sullivan and Linc Fitzgerald, who had moved to the Detroit area in the 20's. Eventually Weinbrenner disagreed with Fitzgerald on club operations, and sold his interest to the other two who operated the club until 1946. Though technically illegal, the Chesterfield Club was a full blown casino with numerous slot machines and table games such as craps and 21. Illegal gaming was very popular in many states in the U.S. through the depression era, and was accepted as a fact of life.
I have two of the CC Chesterfield Club blue $20's next to me as sI write this. When I hold them in my hand I can almost feel who all could have held them. They almost radiate with history.
Some history
Until the early 1970's Reno was the largest and most influential gambling capital in the world, bar none. Reno had the largest casino, the most prosperous casinos, hosted the best entertainers, and earned the most money over any other casino city.
Three of the longest lived, greatest, and most innovative casinos in the world, if not just Reno, were established by men seeking refuge in Reno. Two of those men, Harold Smith and Bill Harrah sought sanctuary from the crackdowns on fringe gambling operations in California. Lincoln Fitzgerald of The Nevada Club, Nevada Lodge, was a fugitive from the Detroit area in Michigan.
Of the three pioneer clubs, Fitzgerald's Nevada Club stood alone as always, from its inception until its destruction over 50 years later, always about gambling.
It was a gambling house built by men who knew gambling, for patrons of gambling houses. It was never a Hotel, eating destination, arcade, or sidetracked by other attractions.
The Nevada Club was all about being a great gaming establishment operated for those who appreciated such. It is doubtful that we will ever see such a place ever again.
Three of the longest lived, greatest, and most innovative casinos in the world, if not just Reno, were established by men seeking refuge in Reno. Two of those men, Harold Smith and Bill Harrah sought sanctuary from the crackdowns on fringe gambling operations in California. Lincoln Fitzgerald of The Nevada Club, Nevada Lodge, was a fugitive from the Detroit area in Michigan.
Of the three pioneer clubs, Fitzgerald's Nevada Club stood alone as always, from its inception until its destruction over 50 years later, always about gambling.
It was a gambling house built by men who knew gambling, for patrons of gambling houses. It was never a Hotel, eating destination, arcade, or sidetracked by other attractions.
The Nevada Club was all about being a great gaming establishment operated for those who appreciated such. It is doubtful that we will ever see such a place ever again.
Friday, June 19, 2009
I really liked Fitz
Fitz hired me in 1956, and was always good to work for. He payed well, had his own rules which we had to live by, but hell, it was his store, and we did what he wanted us to do.
I really liked him. I quite, went back to Ohio for a while, got homesick, called him up and he told me I had a job as soon as I got back.
Nothing but GOOD memories of those days.
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