Two days after Sheldon Adelson christened the largest hotel-casino in the world—the $2.6 billion, 10.5 million-square-foot Venetian Macau—Bill Boyd stood a few feet from the sports book at the Eldorado Casino in downtown Henderson and chatted about nickel-and-dime cups of coffee.
“When we started here in 1962, we charged five cents for a cup of coffee, and a number of years later we decided to raise the price of coffee to 10 cents,” a dark-suited but tieless Boyd said on the morning of August 30 during a sweep through the spruced-up Eldorado. “And the community almost revolted against that. They couldn’t believe it. So we had to put off raising the price of coffee for a while.”
For about a decade. It wasn’t until the late ’70s that coffee meant dime time at the Eldorado.
“It was an interesting time,” Boyd said with a chuckle. In 1962, he was given stock in the property when it was called the Wheel and had been shuttered. The deal was arranged when the original owner could not afford legal bills he owed the Boyds and gave Bill Boyd 10 percent of the company. Over time Boyd and his father, Sam Boyd, bought out the remaining partners in the property, and the casino became the first family-run gambling establishment.
The place has been in operation so long that Boyd is now approached by the grandchildren of original Eldorado players as he makes his bimonthly visit to the casino: “Hey, my grandfather led the Great Eldorado Coffee Revolt.” The Eldorado is also used as a kind of single-A franchise for Boyd Gaming Corporation as it builds Echelon Place at the old Stardust site. Five Boyd Corporation general managers got their start at the Eldorado; Leif Erickson, who was GM of the casino on the day of Boyd’s visit, has since been sent up to double-A—the Gold Coast.
But the 30,000-square-foot Eldorado itself hasn’t changed much over the years, even with its recent makeover, which has totaled $3.1 million, including $95,000 from the City of Henderson for the recent exterior refacing. Customers are still demanding and acutely aware of the value of a nickel. Earlier this year the Café (one of the casino’s three dining options; Mariana’s Mexican restaurant and the snack bar are the others) offered a 99-cent breakfast special. One customer, on two separate visits, stormed out of the restaurant when told toast was not included in the priceless offer.
Such episodes are commonplace at the old casino, which sits on the corner of Water and Atomic in downtown Henderson and is a component in that small district’s revitalization effort. Boyd didn’t order up anything spectacular. A fresh coat of paint inside and out, new wall coverings and carpeting throughout, and a series of five framed murals by Henderson artist Giuseppe Abreu placed in line along Water Street. Such entertainment legends as Humphrey Bogart, Cary Grant, Frank Sinatra, Sammy Davis Jr., Jimmy Durante, Edward G. Robinson, Kirk Douglas, Ingrid Bergman and Jimmy Stewart are shown gambling and carousing in 1940s-era settings (none of the mural subjects ever visited the Eldorado, but they were used anyway in the paintings as conversation pieces for pedestrians walking along Water Street). Boyd’s favorite shows him and his father, Sam Boyd, posed together on the casino floor, amid happy gambling activity.
Also along that stretch of Water Street are somewhat less artistic but more revealing reasons for the Eldorado’s success: stand-up street signs promoting the casino’s $5.99 Blue Plate Special and the Bellybomber, the one-pound hamburger and fries that goes for $4.99.
Back inside, two Eldorado sports book regulars explained why they spend each day at the casino betting on horses and humans.
“They try to take care of locals, and here it’s all locals,” David Herod, a retired insurance agent, said as he took a break from watching equine competition. “My wife is a sucker for these [video poker] machines, so we get a lot of meal tickets, that kind of thing.” On this day Herod said he liked the Chargers, laying three, to cover against the 49ers (he would push that bet).
Nearby, Douglas Sides, an Air Force veteran who was stationed at Nellis Air Force base from 1958-’61, recalled visiting the Eldorado before the Boyds even owned the casino.
“I saw George Jones here in 1959,” Sides said. “He was right here, in the back. George Jones—the only guy who has even a lower IQ than George Bush.” At that, Herod said, “Hey! Watch what you say!” And that’s how it goes at the Eldorado, where such cronyism helps build empires.