boise

Boise

chicago

Chicago

denver

Denver

houston

Houston

lasvegas

Las Vegas

madison

Madison

philly

Philly

pittsburgh

Pittsburgh

portland

Portland

saltlake

Salt Lake

We make podcasts and newsletters that connect people with the cities they love.

City Cast Las Vegas

People, places, and scenes from Las Vegas' past.

Just looking at these photos you can feel a foundational aspect of Las Vegas’ lore clicking into place — the louche glamor and freewheeling approach to good times that the Rat Pack injected into the city’s DNA. (Fun fact: Frank Sinatra preferred “The Clan” to “The Rat Pack.”) “With due respect to Elvis, Liberace, and countless other superstars,” writes local author Steve Bornfeld, “it was these guys who turned this town into THE TOWN.”

The Rat Pack, already famous for their gigs at The Sands, kicked their legend up a notch with the August 1960 release of “Ocean’s 11,” the plot of which you already know from the (cinematically superior) remake, and which hardly matters. The point here was the charm and sing-all-night, film-all-day vibe of its stars, set against the vibrant backdrop of Las Vegas. “In any other town,” the film’s tagline went, “they’d be the bad guys!”

That energy crackles in these shots from the downtown Las Vegas premiere of the movie — ordinary folks lit up by the combined wattage of Sin City neon, Hollywood klieg lighting, and pure celebrity. Everyone’s well-dressed, well-behaved — the social, political, and racial turbulence of the 1960’s are still beyond the far horizon.

Plenty of the Rat Pack’s shtick wouldn’t pass the cringe test now, of course. Nonetheless, this is classic Vegas — the effortlessly cool older sibling of that other strain of pop Vegas mythology, the wild bender as personified by “Fear and Loathing in Las Vegas” and “The Hangover” — and it’s what people usually mean when they lament the long lost ring-a-ding-ding of the Vegas that used to be.

 for Desert Companion is an insanely entertaining compilation of “Ocean’s 11” trivia, perspectives, and insights.

Just looking at these photos you can feel a foundational aspect of Las Vegas’ lore clicking into place.

Remembering the Original 'Ocean's 11' in Las Vegas, with the Rat Pack

Remembering the Original 'Ocean's 11' in Las Vegas

Las Vegas History

Remember Rosie the Riveter, the badass icon who represented the working women of World War II? Did you know that Nevada had its own version? Her name is 

 and she’s a symbol of the strength of Nevada women during wartime.

Sending a great number of men abroad to fight the war meant an increased demand for people to fill vacant jobs. That’s where the women of Nevada stepped in. The term “Magnesium Maggie” was coined by Irene Rostine, 

. The term pays tribute to the women in the southern Nevada workforce, the majority of whom worked at a magnesium plant in Henderson.

Like her sister Rosie the Riveter, Magnesium Maggie is born out of gender politics in wartime America, and here in Henderson, many of the working women enjoyed something that has been denied to them across the country for most of its history: the same pay as their male counterparts. While many industries took advantage of the loopholes in federal equal pay laws, companies like Basic Magnesium Industries paid women the same $.90 per hour that they paid men.

Do you have a Magnesium Maggie story you’d like to share?

Share a Magnesium Maggie Story

Magnesium Maggie: Nevada's Version of Rosie the Riveter

City Cast Las Vegas lead producer Sonja Cho Swanson drops some knowledge on a piece of Nevada history.

Nevada has hundreds of ghost towns (more ghost towns 

, in fact), but only one of them is underwater — at least until 

: The town of St. Thomas, a former Mormon settlement founded in 1865 on the route between L.A. and Salt Lake City. 

At its peak, St. Thomas had 500 residents, a post office, and even an 

. In September 1935, President Franklin D. Roosevelt formally dedicated Boulder Dam, and Lake Mead began to fill up. By 1938, when this photo was taken, the Lake still hadn’t reached capacity — it would take seven years to fill. 

Well in advance of dam construction, the federal government told the residents of St. Thomas that they would need to move and would be reimbursed for their homes. The government-owned most of the town by 1932. But 

: Hugh Lord, who owned a garage, waited until the waters were high enough for him to step into his boat from the front door. Then he set fire to his house and left.

There’s one more town that was covered by the rising waters of Lake Mead: An archaeological site near Overton called the 

, or sometimes the “Lost City,” a complex of homes, agricultural sites, salt caves, and larger buildings (one had 

). The site had been home to several successive groups of Native Americans, including the Anasazi, the Pueblo, and eventually the Paiutes. 

For unknown reasons, the site was abandoned hundreds of years ago, but archaeologists have been studying the site for the last 100+ years. In fact, they were working frantically until the last minute before Lake Mead’s waters covered the site. Today, the receding waters of the lake have revealed the site once again, now badly damaged by erosion, but 

 like drones and 3-D imaging to learn what they can about the Lost City.

The Creation of an Underwater Ghost Town

On Monday, Daniel Weinman of Georgia won $12.1 million in the World Series of Poker, the tournament’s biggest-ever payout; he topped the largest-ever field, 10,043 players. Both numbers would have been hard to imagine for the World Series players around the table above — this was sometime in the 1970s, when the series was still young. But if any of them might’ve pictured such a huge win, it would have been the unassuming-looking guy in black and gray. That’s 

, winner of the first-ever WSOP tourney in 1970, as well as the second and fifth — which paid him $160,000. (Curiously, in the first tournament, he was 

 winner by the other players.) He died in 1995.

Some of his exploits are legendary. Jon Bradshaw’s 1987 book about gamblers, 

 includes a gripping account of the 1973 WSOP tournament in which Moss lost to fellow icon Pug Pearson in a dramatic, back-and-forth match, after being saved several times by his last card. Moss appeared unflappable the whole time. “I never choke,” he told Bradshaw. “I play for the cash, and you don’t choke for the cash.”

A true hustler, Moss also claimed to have won (and lost) fortunes betting on golf and bowling — “What folks are bettin’ on, you learn to play,” he said — including a $100,000 golf match at the Desert Inn course. But it’s poker he’ll be remembered for; he was a charter member of the Poker Hall of Fame. “I’m a spender,” he said. “Most people are savers. Savin’s not in me.”

With the World Series of Poker just ended, we look back at gambling great Johnny Moss.

Remembering Las Vegas Poker Legend Johnny Moss

Remembering a Las Vegas Poker Legend

Eight years ago this week, President Obama created the Basin and Range National Monument a few hours north of Las Vegas. Along with the preservation of the area’s natural and Indigenous resources — and some political considerations — a major reason it came into being was to protect the massive work of land art you see just a part of in the photo above: “City,” by Nevada artist Michael Heizer.

Technically, I suppose, this photo isn’t “from the archive” — it’s much too recent. But in every other meaningful way, it’s 

 time. For instance, 50 years: That’s how long Heizer labored on what you see, beginning in 1972, when, at 27, he bought some cheap land and began moving dirt around according to his grand vision of a highly stylized, perfected, monumentally immersive landscape experience. For decades he labored on it pretty much by himself, running through his money and wrecking his health. Eventually donors and institutions pitched in.

But “City” is also about the experience of time — both the long hours necessary to explore it, as you can tell from the picture (it’s 1.5 miles long and half-a-mile wide), and in the texture of being there, isolated from any sense of what time period you’re in. This could be an ancient ruin, a secret annex of nearby Area 51, or some unknown thing beamed in from the future. It’s the eeriest, coolest damn feeling you can imagine.

I got to wander “City” a few weeks ago; I’m still dwelling on the experience. Some of my thoughts about it will be included in a couple of podcast projects I’ll hip you to next month. And if you think 

applications for the next visiting season

Eight years ago this week, President Obama created the Basin and Range National Monument; one major reason was to protect "City," a massive work of land art by Michael Heizer.

A Look at Michael Heizer's Earthwork Near Las Vegas, "City"

A Massive Complex — of Time

 hand drawn map of a shooting. Aided by a Metro officer, it was drawn by the girlfriend of Erik Scott after police officers shot him seven times on July 10, 2010, killing him. It tried in its way to capture the chaos that unfolded in the parking lot of a Summerlin Costco, in full public view.

The map was among the pieces of evidence presented in the coroner’s inquest a few months later. A coroner’s inquest was the procedure used to evaluate police shootings, then either exonerate or hold accountable the officer(s) involved. Actually, I shouldn’t use 

; at the time of this proceeding, the inquest’s box score was beyond lopsided: In more than 200 inquests, only 

 had a cop not been cleared. That was in 1976. They were cleared this time, too.

 shooting, one of two high-profile instances that year (the other involved the troubling death of 21-year-old Trevon Cole in a botched drug raid; Metro had to 

). It eventually prompted broader considerations of Metro’s use of force, including 

, “Deadly Force.” Certainly, Scott’s family, which 

And it led to an attempt by Clark County to 

 into more of a fact-finding review, a move opposed by police, some of whom sued to stop it. Eventually, the reformed process was watered down and implemented. Though, as my colleague, City Cast Las Vegas co-host Dayvid Figler, a longtime Las Vegas defense attorney, says, “It isn’t any better.” As KTNV reported after a police shooting a couple of years ago, at the time there had been more than 80 reviews, and none found police at fault.

A 2010 shooting in Las Vegas prompted reforms — did they work?

2010 Police Shooting in Las Vegas Shows Difficulty of Change

A 2010 Shooting and the Difficulty of Change

what the man on the right was listening to; sadly, that antique donkeygram technology has been lost since this photo was taken, on July 4, 1909. (It was probably something about his donkey’s extended warranty.) I do know this: Just three days earlier, July 1, Clark County had been officially established. It was named after Sen. William Andrews Clark, who brought the trains to town.

So these folks had plenty to celebrate. They had Independence Day off — but only because it fell on a Sunday that year, as July 4 didn’t become a paid federal holiday until 1938 — and their county had taken an important step toward the future.

Obviously, more has changed in 114 years than just hat styles (though listening to asses is still regrettably common). The county’s population was 

 then. Now, at 2.3 million, Clark is the nation’s 11th most populous county, accounting for 73% of Nevada’s population, yet just 7% of its land. The county government is the second largest in the state, after, well, the state. 

On July 1, 1909, Clark County was officially established. It was named after Sen. William Andrews Clark, who brought the trains to town.

Happy Birthday, Clark County, Nevada

Happy Birthday, Clark County

As you look through the many images of the 1999 Pride Parade in historian Dennis McBride’s voluminous and invaluable archive of LGBTQIA material at UNLV, it’s clear that (a) attendance was a bit, let’s say, sparse, back then, but (b) the ebullience of the participants wasn’t diminished.

Twelve years later, due in part to the Vegas heat, the 2011 parade and many Pride Month functions 

 — though there has been plenty of recognition this month, and local LGBTQIA leaders say that, in fact, they stage Pride events all year. And more attention is being paid:

Looking through the many images of the 1999 Pride Parade in historian Dennis McBride’s archive of LGBTQIA material at UNLV.

Las Vegas Pride, Then and Now

opened as a movie theater in 1944, often hosting box office premieres with celebrities in attendance. If you’ve traveled along the west coast and this building looks familiar, that’s because it was designed by S. Charles Lee — the same guy that dreamt up Fox Theater in Beverly Hills and The Hollywood Melrose Hotel.

Standing tall at the corner of Charleston Boulevard and Maryland Parkway, the establishment has exchanged hands several times and was converted into a music venue in 1992. It shuttered its doors in 2004 and has been dormant until a recent renovation project.

Developer J Dapper purchased the theater in 2021 and has since undertaken a massive renovation projected to cost north of $10 million. After a 20-year hiatus, the theater hosted a 

 on April 7, the newly illuminated marquee symbolizing the return of a historic Las Vegas landmark. Renovations will take around two years to complete.

I want to hear about your favorite Las Vegas landmark.

Share a Vegas Landmark

A Look Back at the Huntridge Theater

 downwind of the official legislative session, and politics is still in the air ... so what the hell: Let’s throw it back 14 years to June 16, 2009, the day John Ensign’s halo officially came off. That’s when the Nevada senator — said at the time to harbor tentative White House aspirations — publicly admitted to an affair with one of his staffers, Cynthia Hampton, wife of another staffer, Ensign's (soon-to-be-erstwhile) friend Doug Hampton.

His admission opened a real can of squirms: ruptured friendships, allegations of threats, as well as talk of improper payoffs (did Ensign give Cynthia more severance pay than he reported? And why did Ensign’s parents give the Hampton’s $96,000?), and the cryptic involvement of a secretive Christian fundamentalist political society known as The Family. 

The whole timeline is sordidly fascinating

 scandal in Nevada history — there have 

 — but it was certainly enough to interest a Senate ethics committee. Its investigation was still ongoing in the spring of 2011 

 a year before his term was up. He returned to normal life as a veterinarian. His fade from the public eye was apt for a politician whose most statesmanlike quality, as one wag noted at the time, 