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Eater
22-05-2025
- Eater
Where the Wild West Never Left: The 150-Year-Old Legacy of Nevada's Saloons
The poker game was fixed — that's the story anyway. An out-of-work miner got 'caught gambling crooked,' so the dealer pulled a pistol and emptied six bullets into the man, so says the 1915 coroner's report. Three of those bullets shot clear through the Pioneer Saloon's prefabricated walls, marring the pressed tin near the front door. The lore and mythos of the 112-year-old Pioneer Saloon is as alive today as it was the day those bullets penetrated its walls. Steeped in American nostalgia, Nevada saloons are crucial artifacts of early Nevada history — as raucous as the men and women who packed them, as rich in community as their towns' earth was in silver, and as roughshod and brutal as the boom-and-bust mining camps where they were built. Located about 45 minutes southwest of Las Vegas in the town of Goodsprings, Nevada, Pioneer Saloon still welcomes customers at its heavy wooden tables, still slides sweat-slicked mugs of frothy beer across the cherry wood bar. The clientele has evolved — motorcycles outnumber horses and letting loose looks more like dancing than rowdy card games — but the spirit remains. In the early 1900s, saloons in Nevada existed as more than watering holes: They were community centers attended in equal measure by laborers, postmasters, clergy, and highwaymen. They bore all the iconography of the American Wild West — roiling dust clouds, dusky wooden rafters, and the cacophony of boisterous young men on leave from the mines or fresh off the railroad. Through the alchemy of their social legacy and the infinite mystique of the Old West, Nevada's saloons have contributed to a folklore uniquely their own. Clouds of dust hang in the column of sunlight that spears through the front door and onto the hardwood floors of the Pioneer Saloon. A hazy glow looms over the century-old bar's patterned copper walls, the cast-iron potbelly stove, and the 19th-century cash register. Laborers built the saloon in 1913, just in time for the mining town of Goodsprings to boom to its peak population of 800 people. From the saloon's outdoor deck, the Yellow Pine Mining Company's triangular headframes and old mining shafts can still be seen dotting the surrounding hills. Railroad tracks that used to transport mined goods are traceable in the landscape — they once went clear through the property where the Pioneer Saloon's current owner, Stephen Staats, now lives. 'If you came in 1913 you would see the exact wall, ceiling, and flooring as you see right now. The difference is, you had to turn your weapons in.' 'If you came in 1913 you would see the exact wall, ceiling, and flooring as you see right now,' says Staats. 'The difference is, you had to turn your weapons in.' Other changes have been made over the years. A copy of the coroner's report hangs next to the trio of bullet holes. One wall displays memorabilia of Clark Gable and Carole Lombard, an homage to the time when the actor spent three days at Pioneer Saloon, awaiting terrible news of his wife after her plane crashed into nearby Potosi Mountain. The offerings have evolved from swill poured out of barrels to a full whiskey bar with a kitchen that smokes barbecue ribs until tender and churns thick old-timey milkshakes in flavors like bananas Foster and chocolate chip. It's a fair representation of what saloons looked like in the late 1800s and early 1900s throughout Nevada. Virginia City's heyday of 100 or so saloons ran the gamut from 'bit houses' with cheap pine bars and a smattering of black bottles to upscale 'two-bit' saloons with spacious rooms furnished with walnut counters, massive mirrors, and glittering rows of decanters, as Ronald M. James details in The Roar and the Silence: A History of Virginia City and the Comstock Lode. 'There was ample clientele to support the more dignified businesses that catered to those who preferred not to drink in the company of the Comstock's average customer,' James writes. At the southern end of the state, downtown Las Vegas's Block 16 emerged as a strip of saloons for those entering town via the new railroad depot. Many of the saloons there, like the Arizona Club, started as tents, evolving into wooden structures and eventually brick buildings as the Las Vegas townsite rapidly grew following its 1905 founding. Nathan Harper, archaeologist for the Southern Nevada Water Authority, portrays the Arizona Club saloon as the Queen of Block 16, opulent with its stunning leaded glass front, gas lights, and mahogany bar. Here, men sipped sloe gin fizzes for 15 cents, played dice games like chuck-a-luck, and stole away upstairs for female companionship. Throughout the state, saloons were spaces for men to eat, drink, and carouse. Women were present, occasionally as saloon tenders, sometimes as hurdy-gurdy girls who would dance with men for money, and often as sex workers. Still, as A Social History of Bourbon author Gerald Carson insists, the bar's crowd represented an egalitarian society: 'Men in work clothes could meet with the editor, the postmaster, or a member of the state assembly.' Tales endure of the Gold Hill News paying an editor an extra allowance of 'whiskey money' to loosen the tongues of local citizens, of clergymen who preached so powerfully in Close and Patterson's Saloon that they were able to baptize four gamblers and 15 hurdy-gurdy girls. While still operating under the name of Samuel Clemens, Mark Twain spent time in Virginia City, where he noted that 'the cheapest and easiest way to become an influential man and be looked up to by the community at large was to stand behind a bar.' Not unlike bars of today, saloons were compelling social centers, says Michael Green, a UNLV history professor and department chair. 'You had a significant number of miners who were looking for places to hang out. Especially in the early days of mining towns, they were developing their institutions,' Green tells me. 'Where do you go when the day is done, to eat and drink and talk to other people? The saloon is the logical place.' 'There's no such thing as a successful hermit.' Shows like Bonanza , Tombstone Territory , and Westworld weren't far off in depicting saloons as roughshod casinos and raucous opium dens. But there was more to it. 'There was, in short, a need for services and for social expression, a personal feeling of belonging to an in-group, for warmth and companionship,' George Carson writes in The Social History of Bourbon. 'The saloon met those needs.' Belmont, Nevada — smack-dab in the middle of the state — sprang to life after a massive silver discovery in 1865. The town peaked at a population of 2,000 people in the 1870s before the mine dried up and it dwindled to its current size of about a dozen residents. Tracy Bilyeu, the current owner of Dirty Dick's Belmont Saloon, says, 'This is the end of the road.' He means it literally — the asphalt turns to dirt beyond the bar. But he also suggests that Belmont is a place for people who 'don't want to interact anymore.' He bought the bar because its sale included a cabin, some of the limited property available in the living ghost town. And while the bar is frequented by tourists from abroad who are eager for the thrill of the Wild West and the open road, it's more commonly attended by neighbors. 'It's a community center more than a traditional bar,' he says, adding that when shut-ins yearn for company, they come calling: 'There's no such thing as a successful hermit.' In a town run on generator power, where the carcasses of 19th-century mining machines and crumbling redbrick arches outnumber residents five to one, the sentiment rings especially true. Saloons excluded not just women but also people of color, particularly during 'de facto segregation' in the late 1800s and in tandem with the anti-Chinese sentiment surrounding the Exclusion Act. Professor Green says Block 17, near Block 16 in the Las Vegas townsite, became a segregated area for Black Americans and other minority groups. In Pioche, Nevada, Chinese immigrants created parallel social and commercial infrastructures; the Chinese American Pei family opened the Overland Hotel & Saloon, which still operates today as a tourist destination. In 1864, William A. G. Brown founded the Boston Saloon, the only documented Black-owned saloon in the state — and one of the few known in the American West. In Boomtown Saloons: Archaeology and History in Virginia City , Kelly J. Dixon reports that Brown's bar served expensive cuts of lamb and beef, poured wine into smooth crystal goblets, and reserved delicate aperitif glasses for sipping sherry and cognac. 'Such a fancy saloon likely was a source of pride for African Americans, given the concurrent contexts of prejudice and optimism associated with the post-Civil War reconstruction era,' she writes. Plenty of turn-of-the-century saloons crumbled into dust along with the mining camps in which they resided. Those that lived on faced Prohibition, when the Anti-Saloon League demonized everything that made them popular. 'In the complex set of circumstances which produced constitutional Prohibition, the saloon died and its tradition and legends died with it,' Carson writes in The Social History of Bourbon. The idea of the saloon became so intertwined with 'evil' that saloons opening after the 21st Amendment repealed Prohibition invented euphemistic self-descriptors: taprooms, taverns, piano bars, and cocktail lounges. 'The modern drinkerie, done up in red leather and fluorescent lighting, is no longer recognizable as the plain citizen's club, refuge, or palladium of liberty,' Carson writes. Nevada saloons that have scraped their way into the 21st century have been immortalized as living myths — somewhere between a carnival attraction and an experiential museum artifact. The Genoa Bar and Saloon has been operating since 1853, 11 years before Nevada even became a state. Its relics include an original wanted poster offering a reward for President Abraham Lincoln's then-unknown killer — and the bras of more contemporary visitors, strung from the rafters. Since 1876, the Bucket of Blood has been serving Virginia City — constructed after the Great Fire of 1875 and sitting on the remnants of the Boston Saloon. In that time, it has transformed from a modest 12-stool bar into a larger establishment that caters to visitors and their curiosities, in much the same way that Virginia City preserves its history while curating stagecoach rides and souvenir shops for tourists. At the Springs Preserve, Harper helped develop the interactive Boomtown 1905 exhibit, which features a reimagining of the Arizona Club. 'There's actually a long history of reconstructed Old West towns,' says Harper. In the 1940s, the Arizona Club's mahogany bar and leaded glass front were moved to the Gay Nineties Bar at the Last Frontier Village, a Western-themed attraction at the New Frontier Hotel & Casino in Las Vegas. During the mid-1900s, recreated frontier locales served as a way for Nevadans to connect with the stories told by parents and grandparents who lived through that era — an effort to preserve not just history, but a sense of place. Today, the impulse is different: It's more about indulging in a Wild West fantasy than finding yourself in a shared past. At the Pioneer Saloon, Staats says some visitors come because they're history buffs, some for the saloon's pop culture fame, and others simply because stepping into the rough-and-tumble, good, bad, and ugly of the Wild West is fun . Part of the saloon's mythos is its portrayal as a place where you can saunter through swinging doors, declare 'This town ain't big enough for the two of us,' buy a round with your lucky strike of silver from that morning, and erect a townsite in your name by nightfall. It's violent, dramatic, and ruggedly individual in a way that's uniquely American — battle born, as the state flag says. The popular video game Fallout: New Vegas offers a digital recreation of Pioneer Saloon, set in a postapocalyptic version of Nevada. In the game, the Pioneer Saloon is fictionalized as the Prospector Saloon, the starting point of every player's journey. Gordy Siddons — who Staats says is more accurately a foundational part of the Pioneer Saloon than a mere employee of it — is rendered as a character named Easy Pete. A corner of the Carole Lombard room is reserved for video game memorabilia. Once a year, Goodsprings' population explodes from 100 to 4,000 for the Fallout Fan Celebration — and welcomes fans like 27-year-old Joshua Ounsey, who visited the saloon from New Brunswick, Canada. 'The roof tiles are the exact same in the video game,' he says. 'It is almost an exact one-to-one recreation of the town itself. It's beautiful.' Staats says that the Fallout connection is only the latest chapter in the ongoing story of Pioneer Saloon. The gravel lot where horses were once strung is now motorcycle parking for bikers who regularly ride out to Goodsprings. Poor souls like the wily poker player who was killed on its grounds are rumored to still wander the premises — rich fodder for the ghost hunters who journey to the saloon to make contact with their tethered spirits. The saloon's cacophony of old is drowned out by live bands and hobbyist musicians who plug into the amp or settle into the drum set. Nevada saloons may have swapped their whiskey barrels for milkshakes and their six-shooters for souvenir mugs, but their real purpose endures. In the slow thrum of conversation, the clink of glasses, and the sway of a desert sunset outside a battered wooden door, these saloons still offer what they always did: a place to belong. Sign up for our newsletter.
Yahoo
14-04-2025
- Politics
- Yahoo
Migrants in Ohio, Michigan and elsewhere scramble as Trump changes the rules
In this handout provided by U.S. Central Command Public Affairs, U.S. Air Force loadmasters and pilots assigned to the 816th Expeditionary Airlift Squadron load passengers aboard a U.S. Air Force C-17 Globemaster III in support of the Afghanistan evacuation at Hamid Karzai International Airport on Aug. 24, 2021, in Kabul, Afghanistan. (Photo by Master Sgt. Donald R. Allen/U.S. Air Forces Europe-Africa via Getty Images) Thousands of migrants to Ohio and and other states found themselves in a dangerous state of limbo last week as their permission to be here was suddenly revoked. Court challenges are being raised, but some are planning to return to their hazardous homelands, advocates said. Since early 2023, about 900,000 came to the United States in the way that many Americans say they want: They followed the rules and they got in line. Then the Trump administration abruptly changed those rules. Amid heavy numbers of border crossings, the Biden administration in January 2023 launched the CBP One app. It allowed people seeking asylum to register outside the country, wait to be admitted, receive work permits and then wait some more while their asylum claims were heard. But the Department of Homeland Security last week notified many CBP One users that they had to leave the country 'immediately,' but it didn't specify how many received such notices. Many have been told they need be gone by April 24. The administration stopped taking new registrations through the app as soon as Trump took office in January. The administration is also trying to revoke the temporary protected status of hundreds of thousands of migrants from 17 troubled countries. And on Thursday, the New York Times reported that it was trying to take Social Security numbers away from migrants with legal status. The goal is to get them to 'self deport' by denying access to basic services such as bank accounts and credit cards, the paper reported. The moves are said to be part of a flood-the-zone strategy that has immigrant advocates scrambling. Christy Staats, an Ohio-based organizer with the National Immigration Forum, estimated that thousands in the Buckeye State are affected by the CBP One revocation in all regions — including Amish country. She said a Nicaraguan family living in a rural part of Ohio called her in a panic. Staats didn't name the family or say where they lived for fear of arousing the government's attention. She said that as of Thursday, the family was planning to go back to Nicaragua. 'They bought a car here,' Staats said. 'They spent all this time waiting and not working until they got their work permit. They're working. They're paying taxes and all of the sudden their legal status gets ripped out from under them. It's been really, really unsettling.' That's especially true given the reason the family sought asylum in the first place. The longstanding socialist government of Nicaragua has become increasingly oppressive in recent years. The U.S. State Department reported that in 2023 it engaged in 'arbitrary or unlawful killings, including extrajudicial killings; enforced disappearance; torture or cruel, inhuman, or degrading treatment or punishment by prison guards and parapolice; harsh and life-threatening prison conditions; arbitrary arrest or detentions; serious problems with the independence of the judiciary; political prisoners… ' It added that the Ortega government imposed 'serious restrictions on free expression and media freedom, including threats of violence against journalists, unjustified arrests and prosecution of journalists, and censorship; substantial interference with the freedom of peaceful assembly and freedom of association…' That could be a particular problem for the family Staats has been working with. 'They played by the rules,' she said. 'They got in line. Nicaragua has been in a very concerning state for quite a few years with their communist dictator restricting more and more freedoms. They had a couple of run-ins related to free speech. The government was watching them. The husband was pulled in by the police. They were very concerned that something more significant would happen. They've been jailing journalists like crazy for quite a few years.' Adding to the uncertainty, the Associated Press reported late Thursday that a federal judge in Boston would at least temporarily stop Trump from ending the humanitarian paroles of people from Nicaragua, Cuba, Haiti and Venezuela. Meanwhile, people from other countries who received humanitarian parole through the CBP One app were getting vague and threatening letters from the government. Erin Piper of Detroit has been working for years to get the extended family of friends she made through her children out of Afghanistan. On Friday morning, she said some received letters the previous evening that said 'Do not attempt to stay in the United States — the federal government will find you.' If the goal was to frighten them, it succeeded, Piper said. 'My friends are all having difficulty reaching their attorneys (who are likely being flooded with calls) to understand if their asylum cases are enough to keep them here without fear of deportation, but they are all incredibly scared,' Piper said in a text message. 'The letter they received has only raised more questions.' In an interview on Thursday, Piper said that the 21 Afghans she's helped have known too much fear as it is. In 2020, the United States pulled troops out of Afghanistan, leaving the fanatical Taliban in charge. The group is well known for its extreme repression of women and girls, ethnic minorities and anybody who worked with the American armed forces during their 20-year presence in the country. Piper's kids befriended those of an Afghan family who had immigrated to Michigan before the withdrawal. When Kabul fell, she learned that their extended family was in extreme distress back in Afghanistan. For two years she worked with a non-governmental organization to get them visas, first to Pakistan, and then to Brazil. 'It was a really huge effort, logistically and financially,' Piper said. 'I was supported a lot by my own local church and a Christian organization. I worked with a military veteran who helped us do a very successful fundraiser with a corporate sponsor. It was definitely a herculean effort logistically, financially and in many other ways.' It was hard to find work in Brazil, so the extended family made its way through the deadly Darien Gap and made the rest of the harrowing trip through Central America and Mexico. Once there, they got in line using the CBP One app. After getting to Michigan and getting work permits, the adults took unfilled factory jobs, and the kids went to school and learned English. A teenage girl is going to high school — something the Taliban would never allow. 'They're barely scraping by,' Piper said. 'But they're here and thrilled to be here without the fear of persecution because of their ethnicity or their support for democracy. The women have equal rights here. Some have been able to work and support their families. That's been really exciting for them. Their lives are far from easy, but they're profoundly grateful to be here.' Staats of the National Immigration Forum said there's something deeply unjust in suddenly telling people who came legally that they have to go back to places they fled. 'A lot of Americans want people to play by the rules,' she said. 'I've heard 10,000 times, 'I want people to get in line. They should have to wait for their turn.' They did. They waited in line until they got their turn. This program was telling asylum seekers not to just come to the border. So they waited — some for a long time. They had a credible-fear interview when they came in at their allocated time.' 'And now their status is being revoked very suddenly,' Staats said. 'Anybody who wants an immigration system where we know who people are when they come in should be very concerned.' SUBSCRIBE: GET THE MORNING HEADLINES DELIVERED TO YOUR INBOX SUPPORT: YOU MAKE OUR WORK POSSIBLE
Yahoo
29-01-2025
- Yahoo
Muscatine woman charged in graffiti incidents also facing hate crime, harassment charges
New details are emerging in the graffiti incidents that took place in Muscatine on January 26. According to information from 11 criminal complaints, Alisa Staats, 30, is facing charges in these incidents: She is accused of throwing bricks at a window and a camera at Susan Clark Junior High, causing over $3,000 in damages. The school was named after the first child to integrate into a Muscatine school in the 19th century. The vehicle seen in security video was found at Staats' home and a search warrant turned up a brick in her home. She is accused of leaving swastikas on St. Mathias Catholic Church. There is no video of Staats doing this but a search warrant revealed swastikas in her home and the graffiti was similar to other graffiti in the city. She is accused of vandalism at Muscatine Community College, which had five swastikas and a racial slur. Video from the college shows Staats walking up to a garage with something in her hand and a search warrant turned up swastikas at her home. She is accused of vandalizing Jibaro Restaurant, which serves Puerto Rican food, with multiple swastikas and 'we don't want you here.' There is no video at the restaurant, but the graffiti was similar to other incidents. Staats is accused of placing swastikas and two names on a wall at Guadalajara Restaurant, which serves Mexican food. According to the criminal complaint, 'it should be noted that Staats has an active no-contact order with (the names on the wall). This will be considered a hate crime as it was racially motivated' She also targeted the Merrill Hotel, which was hosting a large group of Chinese students in Muscatine for events, with two swastikas. One was near the hotel's outdoor sign. She allegedly left swastikas and other graffiti at Muscatine City Hall. Staats is seen on video vandalizing the wall and spitting on a statue. The complaint says this is considered a hate crime because City Hall has no political affiliation. She is accused of leaving multiple swastikas at an address in the city that is owned by Mayor Brad Bark. Video shows Staats in the area, vandalizing other properties. The criminal complaint for this charge says this is a hate crime because of political affiliation. A criminal complaint says Staats left swastikas at Pearl City Tobacco & Liquor, whose owner is Saudia Arabian. This is considered a hate crime. She is accused of leaving multiple swastikas at Pete's Tap and a sandwich shop. Staats is also facing a harassment charge. According to that criminal complaint, she threatened the transporting officer and his family several times. She has a preliminary hearing on the charges on February 7. Copyright 2025 Nexstar Media, Inc. All rights reserved. This material may not be published, broadcast, rewritten, or redistributed.
