Dawn of a New Beginning

“Thirty years ago, Reno said hello to Hollywood when the MGM Grand hotel-casino opened a show that became the toast of the town.” Susan Skorupa Reno Gazette Journal, August 24, 2008 The MGM Grand Hotel and casino opens its doors in the spring of 1978 in Reno, Nevada with the pomp and circumstance of a Royal Gala resembling Oscar night in Hollywood. Like fresh blood, the red carpet ushers a new era in gambling euphoria away from old family owned downtown casinos. Breezing through the Reno Gazette, on the 30th anniversary of the MGM, took me back quite a few years but also aroused a latent desire to take pen to paper, or in modern language, use the computer keyboard to recall a past life, friends, mixed emotions and things that were not so clear then. However, my aspirations were put on hold. Eventually, my recollections and my hands will give light to something that arrived by mail yesterday – a consequential diary. Turning the pages back in pursuit of events and chasing the ghosts of memory, I jump in my time capsule and race along winding roads to compile pictures and ideas of yesteryear brought to light by the infamous human mind and by my friend Olivia Gallagher and her journal. I see the young inexperienced jobless girl who first landed in the area as a tourist and ski bum 35 years ago for a few unexpected winter days before the spring of 1978 and returned later that same year to make it her home. I found a dusty box of pictures stashed away in a closet. “Wow! Is that me?” I am looking through the fog of bygone adventures and deep nostalgia with my anti-fog rose-colored glasses. It is hard to believe that 35 years have gone but I am back in time. I, yours truly, Marcella “Mar” Martin, would have never paid any attention to the grand opening except that I had never seen anything like it before and the media attention was quite spectacular for the little town and the people of Reno. As dawn peeks on this sunny spring day in 1978, this small sleepy western town nestled in the Sierras rises amidst local controversies and the flares of media fanfare. The dry sagebrush, blowing hastily, dusts the grounds scratching the desert-like terrains nearby as it usually happens on a chilly windy day here as if to remind us of a lethargic legacy of ghost towns, gun fights, old gambling saloons, brothels and Madams, settlers, pioneers and gold strikes, and the Wild West glory attributed to these parts. The crowds gather and anxiously wait the heralded birth and baptism of the largest casino in the world to date. Twilight brings the debut of the latest addition to Reno, “The Biggest Little City in the World.” The novelty is just right for a girl of 23 and I join the crowd. My curiosity leads me to partake of the live action. The massive beams of light crossing each other reach for the cool starry sky and shadow controversies. News channels take their position with their bulky equipment and blinding lamps. Parking attendants hurriedly shuffle luxury automobiles to their valet section. Locals react with astonishment and gather around to quench their curiosity and witness the spectacle. Reporters engage in interviews snagging and pressing with microphones at visitors and invitees on the main entrance. A bespectacled young reporter in a wrinkled black suit announces, “This is KOLO news Channel Eight bringing news to you as it happens.” Working and squeezing his way through the crowds, he then inquires, thrusting his microphone in the face of a middle-aged man. “Let’s see what this couple here has to say. Excuse me folks, pardon me, excuse me sir, Is this your first visit to Reno?” Taking a step back, the man answers, “No, we were married here a year ago. We met at Harrah’s five years before at a convention. We are celebrating our anniversary with the opening of The Grand.” “Enjoy the celebrations,” the reporter says with a smile. “Thank you,” the wife responds. The reporter eyes another couple, younger and sporting leather pants and jackets. “Step into the light! What is your name? Where are you from?” “Hi, I’m Tammy from San Jose, California. This is my boyfriend Joey. Hi Mom!” Tammy shrieks and Joey steps in front of the camera to make faces at the viewers. Irritated, the young reporter eyes a man wondering nearby clad in a gray and blue long sleeve cotton hoodie with the University of Nevada logo, Hawaiian shorts and sandals, and moves towards him. “What do you think of tonight’s events?” “Well I guess this is the site of the new strip. They are trying to make this into another Vegas but we will be witnessing a new ghost town right here pretty soon.” Distracted by an intense argument between two other men, the microphone shifts towards the mouth of the one holding a beer can in his right hand. “Sir, do you have any thoughts on tonight’s events?” The tireless reporter interrupts. A tall red-bearded man tips his cowboy hat with two fingers and answers the reporter with a sarcastic grin after he spits on the floor and clicks the heels of his cowboy boots. “Well, I don’t know how this giant is going to make money outside the downtown area and in a small town like this is. The city planners are crazy. ” “Ha, Ha, Ha, well lets hope it becomes popular,” the reporter adds. I am on the outside looking in like a stranger in paradise. I reach the doors guided by those ahead of me and follow blindly without a will attracted by a magnetic force. As I walk inside, I experience altered states of overwhelming awe, joy, and a transformation ensues as if by magic. It is a night of entertainment and of alternate realities. Once inside, the exuberance and excitement of the night signals a desire to participate in the activities. I am transported with my first steps of naïve admiration, towards the exotic magnificence and glamor of the costly enterprise. Thrilled to play a part in the gamble, I join the shuffle at one of the games and buy my first two cards with 10 dollars. A blackjack pays me 15 dollars or three five-dollar chips on my 10 dollar bet. Easy money! I know the game well as a player or so I think. I practiced in Vegas before. My story begins here at The Grand with the people I meet now as a player, and winds through the lives of those I meet later in the next eleven years of my life as a dealer. The experiences and surprises I take with me are many but the predominant philosophy is that through the years of homo sapient involvement in the cycles of history, as humans we do what we do because we are what we become. In spite of technology, innovations, and our creativity, we still have the same confrontations in life and our putative concepts. We drag our past and our belief system without much introspection. Tonight, during the lofty celebrations at The Grand, I mix in with a diverse crowd and choose third base, the last spot on the blackjack table to the dealer's right hand. The opening night affair, with elaborate advertisement and media attention is a grandiose tribute to the worldly charismatic and distinguished high-rolling clientele of about 1,900 invitees. Many visitors also roam the corridors with their curious stares everywhere. Casino pit bosses get ready for a night filled with action, and high stakes. “No shit!” a white-haired man in a tuxedo seating next to me shouts, throwing his hands up in the air, his face sagging with dejection at the $1,000 bet he lost. “I broke,” he says. Beside him, a young woman in a gold glittery long dress giggles, as she follows the detailed instructions of a ruddy-cheeked man she has just kissed. She kisses him again for luck and rakes in the winnings in tall stacks of chips.