I could never explain it to you, or anyone ......

What makes good history? I doubt that there is any mention of Harolds Club in any of the history books in school. At one time, there was advertising for this club, literally, all over the world, "Harold's Club of Bust."

I remember Dave, our bartender at the Primm, told of working there the day they opened on South Virginia Street in Reno. A small club, Dave was on the Wheel, he said the first spin, he was nervous, the ball jumped the track, rolled out the door, into the gutter, and down a drain. They had to hold up the game to find another ball.

I first entered into Harolds World, and that is what it was, in 1956. New to casinos and casino life, I was in awe, it was a world all its own. Western bedecked dealers, gun collection, a bar of silver dollars, awesome. I never worked there, I wish perhaps that I had, but, I worked for Fitz, and that is another whole story.

I have seen an exuberant father and son, one being wheeled around on a "slot cart" ... celebrating, doubling bets on a 21 table, handing out silver dollars. I saw them close a wheel, shut it down, telling a group of young "winners" to keep their hundred thousand and finish their education. I saw signs when I was in Japan for Harolds Club, saw one on Okinawa. I saw L. Ron Hubbard speaking once on the 7th floor, saw Del Ray, a magician, giving some pointers to Harolds 21 dealers, have heard old matinee idol Carl Ravazza, come from the back of the room, singing lilting French songs. I walked through there many times, took it for granted, not fully appreciating the surroundings I was in, and all of its uniqueness.

I could never "explain" Harolds Club to anyone, it and the Nevada Club were truly unique, and are responsible for Nevada being what it is today, and perhaps the industry, which is assisting in the rescue of many states, today. There are no "memorials" to either club, or to Fitz or the Smiths, just memories, some of which is being preserved in the above movie and, in the works of Dwayne Kling.

Water, water, everywhere.......................

I think it was '56, working at the Nevada Club in Reno, the Truckee River was over flood stage, water rising, in the club, policy was, keep dealing until the water gets to the "money drawer" on the table. People kept playing the slots though, something to see. As I recall,, the Truckee did that almost very year when the snow melted up on Mt. Rose.
SAN FRANCISCO (AP) — Northern California is bracing for more stormy weather this weekend after heavy rain and strong winds knocked out power to thousands, delayed flights, tied up traffic and flooded some roadways.

After the second in a series of storms slammed the region Friday, scattered showers are expected Saturday before a third storm strikes Sunday morning, according to the National Weather Service.

A flash flood watch will remain in effect for most of the San Francisco Bay Area and the Santa Cruz Mountains throughout the weekend. The storms could cause rock and mud slides in areas already saturated and affected by wildfires this summer, said NWS forecaster Diana Henderson in Monterey.

"It's not a super storm by any measure, but this is pretty significant," Henderson said. "We should see periods of moderate to heavy rains."

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."

The "Sub"

We had a restaurant downtown here in Newark, some years ago, and I used to send out a fax to a list of our customers. Close friend Craig kept all of them, and gave them to me last week. In reading over them, many fond memories came back. Read one this morning that brought back a "Nevada" memory I had related.

In my "dealing" days in Nevada, many stories circulated about incidents that had happened around town. Harold Smith wheeling his Dad around the club on a cart one New Years Eve, the time the IRS closed a table at Harold's Club, Sandy being hypnotized and falling asleep while dealing at the Golden when Baron Von Brenner was appearing on stage, the guy who crawled under a crap table one New Years Eve at the Golden, cutting a hole in the bottom of the money box and collecting all he could get, a lot of good stories.

One I saw, and can attest to, happened at the old Palace, one of the older casinos in town. They had the old floor that was made of little white tiles, very old.

Some friends and I were sitting at the bar one evening, talking and watching the "action." We noticed one of the crap dealers, who seemed to be new, and we also noticed a few of the "moves" he was making, and, obviously, to us, he was inexperienced.  To us, they were very "tell tale."

One method of stealing money, if you were so included, was to wear a "sub." That, being a dealers apron, double layered, with an opening on the side to slide in either money or chips, one way to steal money from the house. Let me say in all my years in Nevada, in the casinos, I never stole a penny from them, that was just not for me. I think much of the success I had in Nevada came from having a good reputation. I was a dealer, box man, floor boss, managed a casino pit, and was in consideration to manage a casino, all before I was 30. I am proud of that.

Also, when I worked out there, we used actual silver dollars, chips were for the higher denominations. We noticed this dealer going to his sub, with silver. A smarter dealer would have "gone South" with chips, they weighed much less.

Anyway, he was going on a break, performed the ritual of brushing his hands, took about three steps, and his sub was weighted down, and broke. We estimated that about 20 silver dollars hit that hard tile with a bang, then, noisily started running around the floor. Gotta hand it to him though, he just kept on walking, right out the door. Never saw him again.