Sunday, September 26, 2010

Laughlin, Nevada



Don Laughlin, the Colorado River casino magnate, was born and raised in Owatonna, Minnesota.  While in high school he earned money as a fur trapper.  He did well and being a born entrepreneur he took the profits and bought slot machines and installed them in hunting lodges, which eventually earned him $500 a week.  His high school principal gave him an ultimatum: get rid of the slots, pay more attention to homework or get out of high school.  Since Laughlin was making about three times what the principal was earning, he got out of school.
    In the late 1950s, Laughlin migrated to Las Vegas and bought the 101 Club, his first casino.  By 1964 he had sold the club and was looking for a new enterprise.  It always had been his aim to find a place on a state line because as he figured it, “you get much higher play there than anywhere else.”  In his Las Vegas club, he estimated nine out of every ten people were there just to have a drink, but on a state line all ten come to gamble.  One day he motored out to South Pointe, a tiny wide spot in the road located on the banks of the Colorado River at the southern tip of Nevada along the border with Arizona. There sat a run down eight room motel and cafe, so without blinking an eye he bought the place, moved his family into four of the rooms, served all you can eat chicken for 98 cents, installed twelve slot machines and a couple live gaming tables and by so doing hoped he could make some real money and that is exactly what he did!  The little run down motel soon became the high rise Riverside Hotel and Casino.  South Pointe got a name change and became Laughlin.  And the man from Owatonna did indeed make some real money; he made a fortune. 
    Today, there are eight other casinos, with 10,000 rooms, 60 restaurants catering to close to 5 million visitors each year.  You do the math.  




Q




Friday, September 3, 2010

Buckland's Station

Samuel S. Buckland left his home in Ohio in 1850 at age twenty-four.  He traveled south, got on a boat, sailed through the Panama Canal and wound up in California.  Later, he ventured into the western part of the Utah Territory, which would eventually become Nevada, and established a ranch along the Carson River at a logical stopping off place for hundreds of travelers who crossed the Great Basin on their way west.  In 1860 he built a log cabin for his family, a store and saloon for the travelers and corrals for cattle and horses.  He named the property Buckland’s Station. Then the enterprising Buckland constructed a bridge across the Carson River and charged a toll to cross: $.25 for pedestrians, $1.00 for buggies, $1.50 for light wagons and $2.00 for heavy wagons.  Before crossing the river, travelers stopped at the station and replaced their trail weary animals, replenished supplies, and swigged down rotgut whiskey.
    Until 1861 when nearby Fort Churchill was established, Buckland’s cabin served as a Pony Express Station, where riders changed horses.  Two months after beginning operation the station witnessed a remarkable feat of horsemanship.  “Pony Bob” Halsam, one of the most famous Pony Express riders, made the fastest trip ever, galloping 120 miles in 8 hours and 20 minutes - the message Halsam carried, Lincoln’s Inaugural Address.
    The lead picture isn't the original building on the property.  This house was constructed years later when Buckland acquired all of Fort Churchill’s buildings in 1870.  The army abandoned the fort that year and Buckland paid $750 for the privilege of carting away doors, windows, lumber and hardware.  He moved his family into the new building and rented out extra rooms to travelers.  Samuel Buckland, his wife Eliza, and six of their nine children are buried in the cemetery at  Fort Churchill.      
    In 1994, the Nevada Division of State Parks acquired the building.  Not long ago it was jacked up and given a new foundation and paint job.  Today it's all spruced up and is the interpretive center for the Fort Churchill State Historic Park.  Too bad, I liked the old look better, something about aging wood and peeling paint that gets to me.

Q