Reno Sweeney

Reno Sweeney was one of the dealers in Reno who "turned me out," trained me, and showed me the ins and outs of being a clerk. We were called "clerks" in those days, the IRS had no classification for us, so we were listed as Clerks on our Income Tax, thus, the term Clerks. If you ever hear that someone working in a casino was a good clerk, you know they are talking about an "old timer."

My first night, I was nervous and apprehensive, told to report to the "post" .... finally someone pointed me in the right direction, said something stupid to the gentleman in the white on white shirt, a gorgeous pair of cuff links, a spotless white necktie, and a watch showing under those starched french cuffs that exposed a circular face ringed with diamonds, very classy. Mark, as it turned out, told me to go shill on number 3. My dumb stare was greeted with a gesture that pointed me in the right direction.

I sheepishly approached the ten foot table, a man on one end, a woman on the other, the woman knew of my innocence reached down into a tube of silver dollars and handed them to me. She knew without looking that she had handed me 20 of them. The table was void of customers at that time, so she told me, "put one there and throw the dice." I did, and that was my introduction in to a world I knew nothing about, but was intrigued by the prospect of learning about.

After an hour or so at the table, "shilling," I was told to take a 30 minute break and report back to Mark. I will never forget my entrance in to the coffee shop that morning, I was "one of them" an employee of a casino, soon, to be a ..... dealer ..... the pride I must have shown walking in, I owned the place, I belonged here. I remember well what I had, a Nevada Club Special .... an 8-inch French Roll, sliced lengthwise in half, piled high with prime rib, the top half placed back on, on to a plate, and covered with a rich broth. How much better could it get.

Mark directed me back to a table, I was escorted "behind" the table, where the dealers stand, I had stepped into ... a mystic realm .... a "stick" was handed to me, "Hi, I'm Reno Sweeney," call the dice .... the rest of the night went by fast, but a blurry fast. I remember entering in to the sunlight next morning, at 11, a beautiful day, someone had given me a "green apron," during my shift, a dealers apron. I carried it proudly so all could see as I made my way up Virginia Street to my car.

Harold's Club

There is a documentary being prepared on Harolds Club in Reno. I have spent many hours there, and some of these faces are quite familiar. Nevada and the entire casino industry can thank the Smith family for pioneering state and the entire industry.

It is difficult to explain a visit to Harolds Club. it was a world unto itself. There were fun collections, silver dollar bars, so many different "themes" in each area on the various floors. The Seventh Floor was unique, very intimate. I have seen Carl Ravazza entertain there often. He was a "matinee" idol  and a singer and a band leader from years past and lived in Reno.  The houselights would dim and he would enter from the back of the room and slowly make his way to the front singing some intimate lilting French song, and then for an hour captivate you with songs, stories and golf jokes. I have seen many well known entertainers while out there, but none as memorable as Carl Ravazza.

Anyway, this clip gives you a taste of Harolds Club. Notice she states that they all were taught to deal the same way. On my Nevada Club blog I have given my explanation and reason for them doing that. Harold was smarter than other owners, and I have never seen it stated before, but, in my opinion, we detected one of the reasons why they were so successful.

Be patient, it may take a while to download.

THE HAROLDS PROMOTIONAL DOCUMENTARY

Thanks Bettye and Thelma .....

My first lesson as a crap dealer in Reno .....

How many spots on a die?
How many sides on a die?
How many edges are there on a die?
If a ONE is on top, what is on the bottom?
How many spots on a pair of dice?
If a 5 2 is showing, what is on the bottom?
How about a 4 3 showing, what's on the bottom?

I got a call yesterday .................

Got a call from Dwayne Kling yesterday, I probably talked his ear off, hardly let him get a word in. There are just not many left that I can converse with from "the old days" who know and understand how unique we are to have lived in Reno during the years we did.

So much Reno and Nevada history has been torn down and forgotten, it's a shame. When our generation is gone, with the exception of what has been written, will fade away. Dwayne made a prophetic statement also, that a lot of "that" history is already buried and much of it was not wanted known, if that makes sense.

It was a different era then, owners, owned their clubs, and we, as dealers and administrators were dealing in a different commodity, real money. If an owner had a bad night, walked in and didn't like the way you were dealing, you were gone. You brushed your hands, thanked everyone, and walked next door and started working there. Most of the owners, if not all of  them, never saw the inside of a college, they saw the inside of "speakeasies," bars, illegal games, they all came up the hard way. The smartest survived. It  was an entirely different day.

There are so few I can talk with, about those days, that is why, a call from Dwayne Kling is special.

Some Primm memories ......

These are not Nevada Club photographs, but I took the picture at the table at the Primm in the late 50's/ That is Joe Francis on the box, with Jerry Havens and Jerry Christiansen. Joe became a Casino Manager with Harrahs, not sure about the other two. Cameras were not allowed in the clubs in those days, had to sneak in my polaroid and take these when Don wasn't looking.

Havens turned out with Fitz well before I did, and was a very good friend. We called him Hoot, for some reason. Very quiet and unassuming and a very good clerk. If anyone knows of him, would love to hear from you.

The other foto is Ernie Primm, owner of the Primm. I had to do some searching to find it on the internet. Ernie was very good to me, helped me learn enough to sit box for him, and even had some time on the floor. Ernie also had poker houses in Gardena, California and I think had some money in a racetrack in California. Alan Roberts was Casino Manager at the Primm, but found no fotos of him.

Danny Fagan

To Any Friends or Relatives of Danny Fagan ..........

I just learned of his passing, and even though it has been so many years since I last saw him, the news brought a tear to my eyes. I turned out as a dealer at the Nevada Club in May of 1956, and Danny was one who helped train me and became an instant friend. I was young, and in an environment that was foreign and in some ways quite frightening to me. I knew nothing about gambling, only what I had seen in movies, and frankly, it was scary to me. Danny eased that frear, and was one to let me know that there was a normalcy to being in the casino industry. Danny was my icon.

The casino business is a transient industry, and especially in those days. Over the years, any time I saw Danny it was always like greeting a long lost, very sincere, friend.

I think that Danny was one of Fitz's confidants, and was close to Fitz, and I think Fitz talked things over with him, and he was on the "in" with him. I don't know that for a fact, but of all the floor people, I think Danny was the closests to Fitz and Meta, as well as Carlton Meta's brother. I called him Mr. Fagan once, from then on Danny. He was one fine teacher and a great "clerk" in his own right.

I would like to know more about his latter life if anyone reads this and has more information. If any of his relatives read this, he was one fine man, as you already know.

RIP Danny

Daniel Victor Fagan

03/04/1925

05/21/2013

Daniel V. Fagan (Uncle Danny), was born March 4, 1925 in Dumont, New Jersey to John and Mary Fagan. After a short illness, Danny peacefully passed away in Reno, Nevada on May 21, 2013 with family by his side. He is now reunited with his beloved wife of 56 years, Christene. During his 88 years of life he was a charter member of Sons of Erin, Reno Elks, Knights of Columbus and a faithful member of St. Thomas Aquinas Catholic Church.

This is the Danny that worked for Fitz, there is no mention of it in his obit, and he just passed last May, I am so sorry I did not try to get in touch with him. He had a lot to do with my training as a dealer. My first night in training, he was one who "hinted" to me that I should not wear white socks. They did so by pulling up my pants leg and wiping their feet on my white socks, he and Bettye and Thelma were the three.

When I left the Lodge at Tahoe, Danny is the one who literally "kicked my butt," for blowing an opportunity that I knew nothing about, but he did. Fitz was going to let me have a nice job at the Bal at Tahoe when he bought it. I didn't know, might have been on the floor, or better. Another lost "opportunity" in my life, of which I have had many.

Oh, the stories he could have told, Danny was a one of a kind, so much history passed with him.

GREAT LINK .

A great link, in case you have not seen it ............ HERE

Some Nevada footage

This link has some interesting footage. About halfway through some of the interior of the Nevada Club, the way I remember it ...........

VIEW HERE

More memories .........

I was fortunate to receive a copy of "The Rise of the Biggest Little City," written by Dwayne Kling. Full of Nevada history, brought back so many memories. I knew or had heard of many of the names he mentioned.

I was so fortunate to be and work there during the time that I did. Many of the "old timers" were still around, the people who actually molded the state. But more so than that, some of the dealers, cocktail waitresses, keno writers and maintenance people, people in the background, I got to know.

I got to hear tales of the early days, from the old timers. Burt used to relate stories about the "wheel houses" in Florida, and "stores" or "rooms" back East, where he had worked. He worked the boats off of Long Beach, had lived a colorful life, but loved his little farm not to far away. One of his that I have always remembered .......... dealing craps on a boat off of Long Beach ..... a big game, stacks of chips all over the table ........... the dice rolled ......... one die was a "leaner" ........... SEVEN OUT .... a groundswell hit the boat, turned the die the other way to a WINNER.... most of the money was already taken in .... he said a heck of a brawl broke out. Burt had only one eye, always wondered how he lost the one eye, never asked.

Jack Bailey, expensive suits, tailor made shirts, silk ties, always wore old shoes with a hole in the sole. Someone would lose money, complain, Jack would be sitting box, or standing at the end of the table, he would show them the sole with the hole in it, "things are tough all over." It generally worked. The shoes were Alligator though, very expensive, he never went in to that.

Doc Ledford, I think it was, on the floor at the Nevada Lodge, a natty, diplomatic gentleman. Many knew of him, talked little of his history. Word was that he had been in "hiding" for a few years, and for some reason, could finally come out. He was on the floor the morning we needed a 21 dealer at the lake, dealer was on a break, and I stood there to fill in. My hands always sweat when I get nervous, thus, I rarely dealt 21. I tried many remedy's but none worked. Some customers walked up to my table, I looked at Doc, he said, "You're a dealer, deal to them." I did, for about an hour, all went well. When the customer leave, it is customary to "fan" out the cards in the middle of the table. With a grand flourish, I made the move to fan the cars, which I did, but the cards did not fan, the whole deck was stuck together and move accordingly.

Don Eammelli, a mentor of mine, a floor boss at the Primm, I was in awe of him. He was from Steubenville, Ohio, had done a lot in a lot of places. He has lost a leg in a car accident. He was actually brilliant, he devised a system of numbers, he designed a machine to test and color code resisters. He could sit at the bar, drinking a coke, and by looking in the mirror on the backbar, knew everything going on in the pit. He knew just how to handle any "cheat" on any game, he knew every move, and if he didn't know the move, he knew what it took to do the move.

We had a "card marker," an Oriental man, Don was watching him in the mirror. About the time he was ready to make his "move," Don would casually go to that table, look at his watch, "four thirty  time for a new deck here." We took him for over 5000 and he never knew what Don was doing to him.

Don was a card counter, the best, had his own system. He won a lot of money around town, owned a lot of real estate around town. I used to help him with his rentals, his "stump" always hurt, but he never complained.

I can honestly say that everyone I came in to contact with, in a casino, in a management capacity, at any level, were personable, gracious and polite. They had to have the ability to pacify people, when they lost money. Takes a special kind of person. Dealers could be "aloof." They would just take and pay, politely, but not necessarily with emotion.

Those were the good old days.

"Fitz"

Lincoln Fitzgerald, Fitz, a Nevada pioneer who does not get the credit he deserves for his part in making the state what it is today.

My first glimpse of him was in 1956, April or May. I was just discharged from the Navy and headed to Reno. An ad in the newspaper caught my attention. HIRING DEALERS. I had no idea what that entailed, but I decided to look in to it. Prior to applying, I hears many stories about Fitz, Gangster, Purple Gang in Detroit, he got shot in a mob hit, all scary stuff to me.

I entered the old "back door" of The Nevada Club, admittedly with shaking knees and sweaty palms. I walked through the club to the "cage," the cashiers cage, which was his realm. There was this elderly man, white hair, white shirt and tie, suspenders standing behind the bared window. I have no idea what I said to him, at least I was coherent enough to let him know I wanted a job. He asked me a series of questions, where from, discharged from service, as I recalled he was interested in my Father and Mother, married, children, that sort of thing. Really not a lot of questions.

"Take this down to the police station and when you are done, come back here."

"Yes sir."

The police did a background check, handed me a slip of paper and told me to go back to the club. I did, handed Fitz the slip of paper. He looked at it. "Come back in the morning at three, wear a white shirt and tie."

That was it. I really had no idea what I would be doing at three, but I knew I had a job.

I think Fitz liked me. After I became a "dealer" with training on craps, the wheel and Twenty One, we knew I had "sweaty hands." He wanted to to deal Twenty One, but the sweaty hands were a problem. At the end of one shift, he handed he a bottle of "formaldehyde" and wanted me to take it and soak my hands in it, might help. I did, and it didn't. So, I was relegated to the crap table.

I left him after a year and returned to Ohio for a while, decided I wanted to return, called him on the phone, asked about getting my job back, he told me to come on out, I did, and he sent me to his new club at Lake Tahoe, The Nevada Lodge. Only a select few were chosen for that job, I was one of them.

Fitz trained many of the dealers in Nevada in the early years, some went on to some great jobs in the industry. Many years later, I am till proud to say  that "I turned out as a clerk for Fitz." No one knows what that means though. In those days the IRS had no classification for dealers, so we were listed as clerks.

Fitz was a pioneer in Nevada, he, and some others are responsible for making Nevada what it is today, and I imagine few are familiar with his name. I, for one, will never forget him. In my pocket now is a $5 Nevada Club chip, and one I cherish, is a $20 blue chip from the Chesterfield Club in Detroit, which Fitz was part owner of  before he moved to Reno. Nearby also, a pair of Nevada Club dice.

Thanks, Fitz, as Bob Hope would say, "Aw thanks, for the memories."

LaVere Redfield

Another legend in Reno, LaVere Redfield. My first encounter with him almost cost me a job. I had been a dealer at the Nevada Club for a few weeks, had just turned out, and after a few weeks of training, when I had that little green apron on, well, I was very proud of myself.

One early morning, I was standing by an empty table, and a scroungy appearing man walked into the club. Well, with chest puffed out I motioned for security. Unfortunately, he was also new and started to move toward the man.

A loud noise erupted in the cashiers cage and one of the cashiers came dashing out to put a stop to the ejection. She then explained to me that the guy in the tattered jeans and threadbare wool shirt was none other than LaVere Redfield, multi millionaire eccentric and often a customer of the Nevada Club, who either won or lost a ton of money. And, I was going to throw him out. I learned a valuable lesson, never judge anyone by their appearance.

He often played the wheel, and as I understand it, Fitz let him "deal" his own game, with Mark  and Thelma Ganz in attendance, keeping an eye on the bets. The few times I saw him, he was just a player.

When he won, he wanted to be payed in silver dollars, and I have seen security officers wheeling bags of silver out to a truck to take to his home, and send the bags down a coal chute to his basement.

He has been known to ask a female dealer to have dinner with him, perhaps do a little wagering with him, and those I knew of personally were payed quite well, just to have dinner and spend the evening with him. I know of on one occasion he "dated" a stranger, who had an accomplice, left a door unlocked, and they got away with a small fortune which they took from his basement, coins and stocks and bonds.

After his death, his estate was valued at over 100 million dollars. I have on occasions seen him driving a fork lift at a lumber yard he owned,  old jeans and a plaid shirt. Wonder if he was buried that way.

Next time I will go into how I heard he made his first "bankroll" which got him started, interesting story and I think it is true. Got it from someone who knew him.

A good "group"

Came across an interesting "group," and have heard from a few of the members. We all seem to share an interest in Reno history. I imagine some of the old buildings in Carson City are there, probably Virginia City also, preserved for posterity. Yet, in Reno, most of the buildings that actually made Nevada what it is today, are all gone. Why did Harold's Club and the Nevada Club have to go?

Harold put Reno on the map. I wonder if all the new places have "air curtain" doors. You could walk that one block of Virginia street, go in every club, and not have to open one door. I remember on many occasions, I would see a face I recognized, wave a "Hi Grant," as the Governor walked by, or a wave to Bill Harrah when you saw him.

At Harold's and The Nevada Club, and others, a 21 dealer going on a break would open the little drawer on the table, take out their "tokes," and head out on a break. If the IRS got you for an audit, you would quickly make up a list of tokes, from memory, to to the IRS office, the subject of tokes would come up, he would throw out a date, a quick check of your list, "Ah,, on that day I made $7.50." Then he would mention that they had an agent in the club who gave you a $15 toke. He then would tear up your list. You were in trouble, they would come up with THEIR amount.

One time a 21 dealer from Harold's was in California for a few days, somehow did an interview with a reporter, got carried away and told the reporter how much she made in tokes, exaggerated the amount a bit to impress her. The IRS read it and used her figure as an estimate for all Harold's dealers. She was almost run out of town. Tokes were pretty good though, and in those days, silver dollars. Not uncommon for a dealer to have a dresser drawer full of silver. I had a glove box full on my car, good old days.

Looking Back

It has been many years since I left Reno, but some of those memories are the fondest that I have. I keep reminders with me all the time. On my memory table, a small table that my Dad made many years ago, and I have next to my chair, there are many memories. A pair of dice from the Nevada Club, along with a $5 chip. I have a $20 from the Chesterfield Club, next to my bed.

We used those $20's when I started out as a dealer. They had been brought out, by Fitz, from the Chesterfield Club in Detroit, and the stories those chips could tell. Every time I hold it, a flood of thoughts go through my mind, people who could have held the chip. Capone, Siegel, Wertheimer, all of the old timers, that were in the Chesterfield and later on, the early days of the Nevada Club in Reno. Fitz and Meta have held it, Danny Fagan, Eddy Beatty, Bettye Johnson, Thelma Ganz, if only that chip could talk.

Other clubs used $25. Of course, we used silver dollars in those days, and when called for, we converted the silver into $5. We got in the habit of pulling 20 silver dollars out of the speed racks, drop five, and then drop three stacks of five, to make $20. When I went to work at the Primm, I had to adjust my thinking to $25, doesn't sound like much, but old habits die hard.

The Nevada Club and Fitz were unique, early pioneers in Nevada history, and unfortunately, mostly forgotten. Fitz trained MANY dealers, it was THE place to learn to be a "clerk." In those days, the IRS did not have a classification for dealers, so we were called clerks, and that term stuck for many years, at least with the old timers. "He's a  good clerk," was a compliment.

In those days we kept our own "tokes" or "tips" ..... as they came in, they immediately went into a drawer on the table and when you left on a break, your tokes went with you. I had a few REALLY good nights. You could almost live on tokes. I had a drawer full of silver dollars. I knew some that had buckets full of silver dollars. Good old days ....

Jack Bailey

I don't know what prompted it, but Jack Bailey came to mind this morning. He didn't have anything to do with the Nevada Club, but he was "old Nevada."

Reno, late fifties, the Primmadonna, Jack was a box man and a floor boss. I don't know his background, but I do know it would be of interest. My guess would be that he worked in many of the old "joints" around the country, he was another one of those that did not talk too much about their past, and, you knew enough to not ask.

Jack liked nice, expensive clothes and suits. He would come to work wearing a nice suit and an expensive pair of shoes, generally, alligator or some exotic leather. We had lockers, and Jack would head to his locker, take off those expensive shoes, and put on a pair of old shoes, with worn soles, some even had holes in them. If the occasion arose, and some customer complained about losing money or being broke, he was sometimes given a glimpse of a worn shoe, with a hole in it, just to emphasise just how poor we all were.

I remember on one occasions, someone from the Accounting Department approached Jack at the table, called him aside, and asked if he could PLEASE cash some of his old paychecks. He apparently would go home on payday and throw his paycheck in a drawer at his home, and forget about them.

Just another of my Nevada acquaintances that came in and out of my life, but left a lasting impression. The only guy I ever knew who had to be asked to cash his paychecks.

A great site with a lot of information

A great link with much interesting information about the history of the club.

http://www.oldreno.net/nevadaclub.htm

What was his name?

In the 50's there was a well known "slot" man who owned real estate in Reno. Some friends of mine rented from him. Alice Tuttle and Jeanette Fenner were two of them. I think his aame was Bob, but not sure of his last name. His photograph hung in every casino in Nevada. He was GREAT with slot machines. He had one of every kind in his basement.

I never figured out how he did it, I don't think he drilled or anything like that, he seemed to work the handle and that did his work for him.

The last I heard of  him, a "group" got together at Harold's Club, Keno. THEY hit a $1.10 Eight Spot for $25,000. He was in on it and was the one to go to the counter to pick up the 25M. Instead, someone in the group got antsy, and when he went to pick up the money he was arrested.  Problem with most "hits," too many people get involved and someone rats out the rest. "Too many cooks spoil the broth," so to speak.

Ralph Roberts, from Southern Indiana, a great guy, was on the floor at the Primm for a while, last I saw him he had a small club in Fallon, I think it was. He had the pit, little to no money. If someone broke a 20, they would have to take it next door to get 20 more silver, operating on a shoestring. I remember one of his suits, nice black material, but a red silk lining. Always wanted one of those. One of the first things I get when I hit the lottery. Double breasted black, twin vents, 1/2 inch cuffs on the sleeves, red silk lining. Would like to be buried in that.

Jim and Alice Tuttle always had fantastic Christmases. The saved their "tokes" and spent them on Christmas. That amounted to a great deal of money in those days. Alice did 21 at Harolds and Jimmy worked at different stores, but always good ones, a "store" being a casino. I worked with him at The Lodge at Tahoe once.

Ray Slattery, "Slats," worked for Fitz, one heck of a nice guy. He was and had been a professional bowler, but somehow got sidetracked. Slats, like most of us, loved to party. In those days it was a full time party with a little work done in between. Slats got wrapped up in it, decided he had to "get out." One morning, he packed his stuff and we drove him to the outskirts of Tahoe, let him out, and he started thumbing his way to California. Never heard from him after that. I used to watch the PBA in hopes of seeing him on there, never did.

A neat "fraternity" of people, all different walks of life, never got to know many of them well, like "ships passing in the night," so to speak, but never forgotten people. Many unique, some with questionable backgrounds, like Doc Ledford at the lake, as nice as they come, but you never asked about his "past" or his future. There was a lot of that in Nevada in those days.

But some never to be forgotten "friends."

November Memories

Holidays like this always make me think back to my days in Nevada. Had some great Thanksgivings out there, invited friends in, generally had a crowd at the house.

But also, spending Thanksgiving in a casino, always seemed a little depressing for our customers. They were taking in a long weekend and a great few days in Reno. And of course some time up on the mountain doing some Winter sports.

I thought of old Hoot Havens, actually Jerry, and his Ford, the one where the top moved down into the trunk. I thought of Don Eammelli and some of the deals we got him into. I remember the "Crap Suckers" he bought, a truckload, cleaned your drains. They ended up in his basement, water and heat turned them into one big blob. Or, the watches he bought, all pinwheel movements, the one we sold to the dealer as a gift for her son, set it on the TV, got heated, when he opened it, the crystal popped off, hit the ceiling.

Jeanette Fenner, worked at Harold's Club, rented an apartment from the "Slot" guy, Bob I think, Had his picture posted in all casinos in the state. He hit a lot of jackpots, way too many. Alice Tuttle rented from him, had the basement apartment. I think Alice worked at Harold's also. Both 21 dealers. I remember stories of when she was married to Jimmy, they saved their tokes all year (which was a LOT of money in those days) and splurged them on each other at Christmas.

Fitz and Meta always come to mind. I wish I had stayed with Fitz, big mistake leaving him. Rumors were that I would have gotten the Bal Tabaran to manage, or at least have a nice job there, when he bought it up at the lake. I don't know how far I might have gotten if I had stayed with him.

Danny Fagan always comes to mind, Mark, Bettye Johnson, Thelma Ganz, all were part of my early training at the Nevada Club. It's hard to believe that I outlived the old Club. It is gone, I am still here. The largest part of Nevada history was lost when they tore down Harold's and the Nevada Club. Times change, I guess. I would not recognize Reno today. I will just keep the fond memories.

A Nevada Memory

An old memory from the late 50's came to mind this morning. I have a new website up for my 78 birthday, 78 Birthday Site and I have a foto page, was looking at that, and some memories came floating back.

I was working at the Primm, graveyard, 3 am to 11 am, which left a lot of good daylight time to get into trouble. Some mornings I would go straight home, make a b-line to my car, which then was a Studebaker Golden Hawk, and head home.

Then, some mornings, after a good winning night, Ernie Primm, the owner, or someone, would offer to "Let me buy you guys a drink" at the bar, and Dave would fix us up. On some occasions, previous customers from the night would see we dealers at the bar, and also buy us one.

One particular morning, Ernie bought one, then two, then some customers followed suit, and before long, a party was "goin on."

Around 2 or so, the party started breaking up, for them, not for me, I wanted to keep it going, but was running short of money. Well, we could always "draw" on salary at the Primm, but Mr. Roberts, the casino manager, who was one of the finest "gentlemen" I have ever known, got the picture, saw was was happening, and about to happen, and said "No" to the draw.

So I left the Primm, walked down the back alley, and there, behind the Horseshoe Club, were three nice, bright, shiny, stainless steel, 5-gallon milk cans. I am not sure how it all came about, or even who I was with, but I partnered with someone, put a sign on the milk can ........... the Cutty Sark and Milk Fund.

It was Winter, and "Slim" one of the owners of the Crystal Bay Club at Lake Tahoe, got us drinking his "Winter" drink, Cutty Sark and Milk. I don't know if I ever liked it, or even thought about it, but in the Winter, I often drank it.

I was living on North Virginia then, almost across from the University of Nevada, split rent on a house with another guy, don't remember his name.

Anyway, I started making the rounds of clubs, people I knew, friends, etc., collecting for the "fund."

I was having a good time, so were my "donors" maybe have a drink with them and collect the change or they would put money in the milk can. This went on till around 5 in the afternoon. I must admit I do not remember a lot of it, but apparently, at some time, for some reason, I invited some to our "Kickoff Party" on North Virginia, and gave them the address. Not sure when I started doing that.

About 8, something woke me up. After a very long time, I realized I was lying on the couch, in our living room, surrounded by people, mostly strangers, in a room full of people, mostly strangers, who were having a party, celebrating the kickoff of the Cutty Sark and Milk Fund.

And there was I, in my shorts, surrounded by probably 50 people, all looking at me.

As I walked to my bedroom, I was sent off with a thunderous applause, for the founder, of the Cutty Sark and Milk Fund.

At one time, Don Eammelli, my Shift Boss, had that can and was keeping it as a souvenir, I was told he had it in his Recreation Room as a reminder of the good old days.

Those were the days ...........................................

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.