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."

Was talking about Fitz last night, and someone suggested I  do this blog.....I truly like this man, I wish I had been able to spend more time with him..... I doubt that many did.

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."

Good time of the year for an old retired guy. Wimbledon to watch, not a big tennis fan but this one is certainly worth following, and, we've got some trials for the upcoming Olympics which will be held next month. I remember when the last Olympics closed, at my advanced age, I often wonder if I will "be around for the next one." Sure enough, here I am.

I have always been a track and field fan. Started years ago watching my brother high jump and broad jump, and later he was a track coach, and followed the Wilbur Wright Track Team and occasionally drove some of his team to away meets. Dayton was also a good "track" town. Many big meets held at the old University of Dayton track, and have attended many Jesse Owens Meets in Columbus. Another great, Dave Albritton was from Dayton and had the opportunity to chat with him on a few occasions. He and Owens both participated in Berlin, and both were highly visible at various sporting events around Dayton. I think I am right in saying that Albritton coached track at Dunbar High School in Dayton, and produced some outstanding teams.

So, again we an watch all the participants march in, see the flame lit and watch the exploits of the participants, a lot of good pure emotions. Track takes a lot of dedication and practice, and the Olympics can be the reward for all that hard work. A number off sports, the reward is millions of dollars, track and field, a Medal, gold, silver or bronze.

Years ago, working at Lake Tahoe, before the Winter Olympics held there, the Disney studio did the decorating and the statues at the complex. Mr. Disney and his wife stayed at the Nevada Lodge where I worked and we occasionally had the opportunity to speak to them.

U  S  A  ...... U  S  A .... hopefully we will hear those chants again, American flags will wave, patriotism will be high .... looking forward to the events ... U  S  A ...... U  S  A.

Jack

I don't know what made me think of it this morning, but my thoughts went back many years, to the Crystal Bay Club, North Shore, Lake Tahoe. That was in the days when there was a slow, two-lane road around the lake, a Summer resort, many places closed for the Winter.

The North shore had a few casinos, as did the South shore.

I worked at the Nevada Lodge, first Winter it had been opened, and had a room under the Crystal Bay Club, which was right across the street, nice. Since there weren't many places open, we spent most of our time in the Crystal Bay Club. I got to know the bartender there well, Jack, only his last name is forgotten. Don't know why, but we called him Homer, Homer Lipschitz.

 In the mornings a crowd of us would often go to someones home nearby, around the lake, fixed great breakfasts, had some really nice times. The lake was beautiful in those days, before the Winter Olympics and all the crowds and new construction.

Back to Jack, or Homer. One shift at the club, he had a heart attack and ended up in the hospital in Carson City. As the story goes, when he came to and woke up some hours later, his wife was on one side of his bed, and his girlfriend on the other. He said he just closed his eyes and went back to sleep. Never did hear how the story ended, but knew the best part.

Which one?

One of the miners in Chile has a wife and a girlfriend. Apparently they are saying the wife is giving way to the girlfriend. Does that mean the wife is going to be up there waving "Good Bye" to him.

Reminds me of a friend I had in Nevada, at Lake Tahoe. Name of Jack, forget his last name.

Jack had a heart attack, while working, and was taken by ambulance to the hospital. Not sure if he went to the one on the South side of Lake Tahoe, or to Carson City.

Story goes that when Jack first woke up, on one side of his bed, his girlfriend, on the other side, his wife. All that tension, and a heart attack too.

Reportedly, he kept his eyes closed and waited for one of them to leave. Never heard how it ended.

My Grandfather, Caleb Dooley, is buried in Marion, Indiana, with his first wife on one side, and his second wife on the other.  IF ..... anyway, can you imagine how he is spending eternity, with his wives discussing him, or worse, arguing?

Purgatory, either way.

Fotos..

The Masthead fotos ............................

On the left, my Grandaughter, Amanda, with my new Great Grandchild Brooklyn Jean Dilts.

On the other side, the corporate headquarters of the Longaberger Basket Company here in Newark, Ohio. I met Dave Longaberger and spoke with him on a number of occasions, a very nice man. I watched this being constructed, very unique.

Tahoe, beautiful, and I worked up there in the 50's and early 60's, before it got so commercialized. It was rustic beauty, and in those days we had it to ourselves. A narrow two-lane ran around the lake.

I trained and worked for Lincoln Fitzgerald at the Nevada Club. He was an icon in the industry, ran a warm friendly casino, was innovative, and took good care of his employees. He and the Nevada Club are all gone now, a BIG part of Nevada history that has been forgotten.

The Reno Arch as it was in the 50's, walked under this many, many times.

One more Tahoe story ..............

One came to mind. All the locals hung out at the Crystal Bay Club on the North side of Tahoe. Back then, there were not many places up there, open year round, so the Crystal was the place to be.

And, it was right across the street from the Lodge where I worked. Then, the Crystal had a number of motel type rooms under their main building, and I rented one of those.

Get up, shave and shower, go upstairs, have a coffee at the Crystal bar, walk across the street, put in your eight hours dealing to the few customers we had in those days. Generally, the North end was closed during the Winter months. They kept it open then, to get ready for the Olympics and the anticipated growth when it all expanded.

So, the days were pretty slow. Then, after work, go back across the street to the Crystal, amuse yourself at the bar until time to go to bed, and start the process all over again. There was not a lot to do then, very few places open, so entertainment was at a minimum.

One of the bartenders, Jack, and I cannot remember his last name, got to be a good friend of all of us. He had a great sense of humor, had many stories, knew everyone, and had been at the lake for quite a while, and had many stories to tell.

I ran around with him quite a bit, would occasionally go to someones house for an early morning breakfast, we all just had a lot of fun together.

One day, Jack had some severe chest pains and passed out. The ambulance to him to the nearest hospital, which in those days was in Carson City, quite a distance away. Jack was unconscious when they put him in the ambulance, and apparently stayed that was for quite a while.

When he finally came to, and woke up, standing on one side of his bed was his wife, and on the other, his girlfriend. The story goes, he just closed his eyes and prayed, not knowing what to do. This was told to me by a good friend of ours who was sitting outside his room, in a waiting room, and knew what was going on, and was helpless to do anything.

Knowing Jack, he probably talked his way out of the situation, but he had to do a lot of talking. I always wondered what ever happened to old Jack.

A Morning to Remember ....................

I took Caleb, our dog, out, early this morning, and I was greeted by a crisp, clear, cool autumn morning hitting my cheeks. For some reason, I was instantly taken back to a similar morning I experienced in the late 50's, my first morning walking out of my room at a small lodge, on the way to work, at the Nevada lodge, at Lake Tahoe.

This was before all of the development that took place prior to the Winter Olympics, it was still rustic, one two-lane road, and basically as it was during the 30's and 40's. North Lake Tahoe was strictly a Summer resort. There were ski lodges that opened in the Winter months, but nothing like it is today, or even as it became in 1960.

I had taken a room in a small lodge, had a basement room with my own entrance, and I will never forget that morning. The fragrance in the air, all those pine trees, the cool air, the bright clear, clean alpine air, and I was on my way to work, just across the street, at the Lodge, as a dealer, working for Lincoln Fitzgerald.

I had worked in Reno for him previously, but had left and returned to Ohio. A number of changes took place in my life, I called him on the phone, asked if he had any openings, and he told me to "Come on out, I have a job for you." This in itself made me feel good. Fitz, remembering me, the grouchy old seasoned gambler who was a legend around Nevada, remembered me.

I took the train from Ohio to Reno, had too change trains in St. Louis. That was in the days of drawing rooms, club cars, dining cars, elegance, and not many dealers. I was received with a "celebrity" status among my fellow travellers. "You're a dealer, in one of the clubs, WOW."

In St. Louis, as the train was loading, an "entourage" came on board, family, kids, maids, nurses, a whole group. Augie Busch, was taking his family to California. Needless to say, there was ample Budweiser for all, compliments of Mr. Busch.

I still remember getting off the train at the old station, in Reno, and going directly to the Nevada Club, to let Fitz know I was in town.

"I want you to start at the Lodge, up at Lake Tahoe, day after tomorrow." He had bought the Lodge when I was back in Ohio, but the thought of working up at that "wonderland" made me feel special. And, then as I talked with some other dealers and told them where I was going, they were envious. A very select "few" were chosen to go to the lake, or "work up on the hill" as it was called.

Anyway, I got a ride to the lake, found a place to stay, unpacked and decided to take a walk through the Lodge. I knew a few of the dealers, spoke with them, and the more I took in all that atmosphere, the more excited I got about this new job.

"Doc" Ledford, one of the shift managers, put me on the day shift, to start with. Old one eyed Burt was working, Eddie Beatty, Bettye Johnson, were all dealers I knew from downtown. I was really impressed, with myself, this little "kid" from Ohio, was going to be working at Lake Tahoe, at the beautiful Nevada Lodge, heaven on earth to me.

That is why I still remember that first morning. I was already on "cloud nine," had on my heavily starched white shirt, French cuffs, nice cuff links, gorgeous tie, tasseled shoes, alligator belt with an attractive buckle, and my green apron in hand .... that Tahoe wind on my face, life was good, not a worry in the world, walking across the street from where I lived, in a log paneled room to the Lodge..

I will never forget that feeling, or that morning, life was as good as it gets, and I was one of the "elite" few, that Fitz chose to work up there.

Johnny Mathis

Watching TV, switching back and forth between the Little League game and a PBS Johnny Mathis special ..... got me to thinking of the last time I saw Mathis ..

Late 50's or early 60's, Mathis was at the South shore Room at Harrah's at Lake Tahoe, South Shore. I had seen him before, and he was a favorite, living the the 50's you had to like him. Spent a lot of time listening and dancing to Mathis, Tommy Edwards, his Christmas Album in December was a necessity.

Somehow, probably my friend Joe Francis at Harrah's, I got two "comps" to go see Mathis. I think I was with an old school friend, but regardless, went up the mountain to Lake Tahoe.

We were seated at a table for four, and the maitre de came over and asked if he could seat two people with us, we said sure.

The seated an elderly man, who was accompanied by a younger man. The younger man introduced his companion, Henry J. Kaiser, retired industrialist and millionaire,who was retired and lived at the lake. The younger man was his secretary.

For those who don't know the name, Kaiser Aluminum and other companies, built ships during the war, he had a car named after him, the Henry J., among other things.

We chatted some, ate a delicious meal, comps are always better, dinner was over, the lights dimmed .... the black stage curtains were closed, a small bright spot was turned on, and there was John, in the spot, all the women, and a few men, sighed. He was a good looking guy.

John started singing his first song, to a rousing ovation, "Chances Are," and in the darkened room, our companion, Henry J. Kaiser, an old man, arose, and started walking around the room. He even walked down close to the spotlighted Mathis, not sure if he saw him or not, to get a better look.

His companion finally got up and ushered his boss back to the table. In the darkness I am not even sure if many people saw him, but security made no attempt to get him. We were told that he had done it before .... no one else, other than Henry J. Kaiser could have gotten away with it.

Mathis just sang, all the favorites, one right after another, each song when he started was met with an ovation.

About half way through, at the end of one song, Johnny finally spoke, "Bet you didn't think I could talk, did you?"

I had a friend who lived in Vegas, was a fairly close neighbor of John and knew him rather well.

Almost any Mathis song brings back a flood of memories.

George Whittell

George Whittell had a life-long fascination with the latest technology of the day, particularly that which manifested itself in aircraft, automobiles and boats.
Among the many he owned were a Douglas DC-2 airliner, outfitted in luxury for his private use; a Grumman Goose amphibious airplane, five of the most uncommon Duesenberg motorcars, a 145' pleasure yacht named Elia, and the legendary 55' speedboat, Thunderbird.
The latter is certainly one of the most unique and elegant wooden vessels crafted in the Twentieth century and is as much a work of art as a means of transportation.
Commissioned by Whittell specifically for Lake Tahoe while he was building his fabulous estate there, the Thunderbird was designed by famed naval architect John L. Hacker and built by Huskin Boat and Motor Works in Bay City, Michigan.
Enamored by the art-deco styling of the era, it is said that Whittell asked Hacker to incorporate the lines of his DC-2—also named Thunderbird—and Duesenbergs. Fashioned of double-planked mahogany and having brushed stainless steel cabins, the new acquisition enabled Whittell to get about Lake Tahoe with unmatched style and speed.
Originally outfitted with twin 550-horsepower Kermath V-12 Sea-Raider engines, the vessel could cruise at more than 50 knots. To accommodate the Thunderbird its notoriously reclusive owner ordered the construction of a 100-foot long enclosed boathouse with 600-foot tunnel that would connect it to the main residence, both blasted out of solid granite.
Shipped by rail and completed at a cost of $87,000 (over $3.3 million in today's dollars), Whittell took delivery of Thunderbird at Mayfield’s (Tahoe City Marina) in 1940.
For the first time that year, she crossed the Lake to her new home in the pre-dawn hours of July 14th. The aging sportsman cruised extensively that summer and the next, shuttling friends and supplies from nearby communities and showgirls from the Cal-Neva casino for lavish parties at his estate.
Following the U.S. entry into World War II, possibly afraid that his beloved yacht or its engines might be conscripted into military service, Whittell hid her away in Lodge's boathouse.
Whittell became even more reclusive as he entered his seventies. His yacht was seen so infrequently that it seemed to some who caught a glimpse to be nothing more than an apparition.
When Whittell broke his hip late in life and refused surgery to repair the fracture, he was confined to a wheelchair and unable or unwilling to use Thunderbird.
Resting idly in the boathouse for many years, Thunderbird was rescued by casino magnate and car collector William F. Harrah who purchased her from Whittell in 1962 along with two Duesenberg autos.
Harrah rotated the vessel between his Skyland, Lake Tahoe villa; restoration shops in Sparks, Nevada; and winter storage at the Whittell boathouse.
Harrah’s workmen added a matching stainless steel superstructure and replaced the original Kermath engines with vintage WWII fighter aircraft engines: these V-12 Allison V-1710 motors develop 1100 horsepower each.
Harrah called Thunderbird his “70-mile-per-hour cocktail lounge” and frequently entertained showroom headliners aboard including Tony Bennett, Sammy Davis, Jr., Liberace, and Bill Cosby, to name a few.
Harrah was meticulous and, each year, his team sanded down the wooden hull and applied ten new coats of varnish!
Thunderbird is now owned by Foundation 36, a Nevada public charity founded by casino entrepreneur Bill Watson for the purpose of saving Nevada’s historic and cultural treasures. Tahoe’s most famous yacht still operates and serves as a cruising classroom to educate the public about Lake Tahoe’s rich maritime heritage and fragile marine environment.
When she is in port, Thunderbird resides in her original boathouse and may be viewed as you tour the Thunderbird Lodge estate.