Citizen Hughes - Michael Drosnin [61]
With Laxalt firmly behind his plans to acquire the Stardust and Silver Slipper, with all opposition to his Monopoly game melting before his munificence, Hughes began to worry that a horde of freeloaders would also be licensed.
“I am informed that, since word has gotten out that our applications will be approved, everybody and his little dog is filing for a gaming license because they all reason that if the Commission passes ours they cannot very well refuse somebody else. So what I want is a report on those applications which are nearest to being considered favorably, in order that we may take whatever preventive measures may be indicated.
“Bob, competition is moving in on all sides on a rampant basis,” he added. “Every time somebody starts the preparation for the opening of a new casino I suffer very substantially.”
It was agony. Hughes could no longer enjoy the prospect of expanding his empire. He could only dread the “excessive competition, or the threat of future excessive competition, or competition of a type which I consider harmful.” He demanded that Maheu “cast an evil spell” on all rivals to his power.
Maheu was not optimistic. “Unfortunately, Howard, our problem is one of changing the philosophy which permeates the entire area, and that is going to take some time. It is generally known that for the last six months, there has not been one room available in Las Vegas on any weekend, and, as a result, many people don’t even attempt to come to the city.”
Hughes was unmoved. It was that kind of thinking that led to disaster, and he could prove it.
“I just cannot go along with your philosophy and that of the community, which seems to be: lend a helping hand to everybody who wants to build a new hotel or casino, the more the merrier!
“Please remember, Bob, that it was this philosophy, that there is no bottom to the barrell—it was this philosophy that led to the 1929 stock market crash and seven of the worst years this country ever faced.
“It was this same philosophy that led to the construction of a miniature golf course on every corner in Los Angeles, and the horrible, tragic crash of this industry—taking with it all the little people involved.”
First the Great Depression. Then miniature golf. Next the ruin of Las Vegas.
“You say you can’t get a room. Well, Bob, that is just the way it ought to be. Do you think for one minute that ‘21’ and El Morrocco in New York would be such a success if they were not jam-packed to the roof so that it is impossible to dance or even to breathe in there?
“People only want to go where it is impossible to get reservations—they only want to go where it is crowded and where everybody else is trying to go. Please believe me, I know from bitter experience.
“The first time it is not, as you say ‘impossible to get a room’ in Las Vegas, then you better start worrying, because serious trouble is ahead—and not very far ahead.”
In fact, Hughes already saw serious trouble all around him. These threatened new hotels and casinos were not merely dangerous competition, they were something far worse—contamination! Soon he would be surrounded by impure water, swarms of mosquitoes, carnival freaks, and filthy animals.
“Bob, there are almost ten new hotels announced. The one that troubles me the very most is the new Holiday Inn right smack in front of the Sands. To make it much worse, they are planning to make it a Showboat sitting in a huge lake of water. A Showboat with a pond of stagnant infested water.
“If they are considering using water from Lake Mead, the effluent in the water would smell to high heaven. Jesus! when I think of that lake of sewage disposal on the front lawn of the Sands. Ugh! It may even smell up our Sands Golf Course. Whatever the source of the water, there would be the additional problem of mosquitos. They would not be able to have water running in and out, so it would become stagnant and an ideal place to breed mosquitos.
“If this crumby hotel cannot be stopped, I would just as soon sell at a loss the Sands.