You'll Find Your Share Of Memories There. . . .

Vegas Vic waiting to welcome us to Las Vegas.
"Howdy, You All, come right in!"

Lincoln County Lynx - Center, George Wimsatt

Got to get this snap right before the game in Las Vegas.

Ina Wadsworth, Ruby Lee, Wanda Nielson "Cruising" Freemont St.

Probably heading off to the El Cortez.

The El Cortez Hotel and Casino of the 1940s and 1950s
Rat Pack Members, Dean Martin, Sammy Davis, Jr., Frank Sinatra

Peek-A-B00!

A suite at the El Cortez in the 1950s

When I was a teenager in the 1940s, a very popular radio program
was "Your Hit Parade". It was broadcast each Saturday evening
and offered the most popular and best selling songs of the week. In
the beginning, it offered the top 15 songs. Later, a new and more
exciting format offered a countdown to the top three songs, with the
number one song announced with much fanfare, for the grand
finale.

The title of this story comes from a song written by Johnny Mercer
in 1944 and recorded by Frank Sinatra, the swoon master of all the
giddy "bobby sox" crowd . It was a "Your Hit Parade" winner in 1945,
and one of my favorites. It was titled, "Dream (When You're Feeling
Blue)". The chorus of the song was fitting for me, a high school
freshman.

So, dream when the day is through;
Dream, and they might come true.
Things never are as bad as they seem.
So dream, dream, dream.

When I was in high school, some of my most exciting times were the
trips the students took to Las Vegas. The different student body
clubs had trips affiliated with their studies. The Pep Club had
several trips each year. Even though Las Vegas High School was
much larger than Lincoln County High School, they competed in the
same league in boys sports. The Pep Club usually had a trip to Las
Vegas for a football game and a basketball game. If we made the
league or district playoffs, which we often did, we would have
another trip.

They kept the girls separated from the boys on these trips and the
ball teams were also separated from the other boys. The athletes
and coaches always stayed at the Wittwer Motel in North Las Vegas
and the girls stayed at the Sal Sagev Hotel in downtown Las Vegas.
I guess they figured all the distance and no cars, there would be no
breaking curfew or getting into mischief. I can honestly say that it
did not always work the way they intended it to.

As we were not allowed to go onto the Strip, or any establishment
except those on Freemont St. and Las Vegas Blvd., the Sal Sagev
was the perfect place to stay. It is located at One Freemont St.
and is the smallest and oldest hotel on the street. It opened in
1906 as the Hotel Nevada, and in 1931 became the Sal Sagev (Las
Vegas spelled backwards). In had one more change in 1950 when
it became the Golden Gate Hotel, home to the famous $.50 shrimp
cocktail, (but that is a story for another time.)

One of the girls favorite destinations was the El Cortex Hotel and
Casino. It had a lot of glamour, and a bit of notoriety, attached to it.
It was owned by mobster/gangster Bugsy Siegel. It had opened in
1941 and was considered the finest such establishment in downtown
Las Vegas. Bugsy bought it in 1945 when he migrated to Las Vegas
from California when authorities shut down California's gambling
operations. He ruled his little kingdom with a flamboyance new to the
downtown area, throughout 1945 and 1946. In late December of
1946, he sold it to open the Flamingo on the Strip. While he was at
the El Cortez, you could usually find all, or part of, Hollywood's
"Rat Pack" there, either as entertainers or as Bugsy's honored guests.
The Rat Pack consisted of Frank Sinatra, Sammy Davis, Jr, Dean
Martin, Joey Bishop, and Peter Lawford. It had long been written
about the Rat Pack's ties to the gangster scene, especially Frank and
Dean, and they were close personal friends of Bugsy. Now, to a girl
in her teens from the tiny little town of Panaca, Nevada, that was
heady stuff, for sure! At that time, ole "Blue Eyes", as Frank was
called, was the crooner who was making all of the girls hearts flutter,
and the rest of the Rat Pack shouted "Hollywood Entertainer"!

Cruising Freemont St. several times a day was mind boggling to me.
I loved the noise, the millions of lights, the people thronging the
streets, rushing from one establishment to the next, intent on
their individual missions and often not paying attention to who they
were bumping into or knocking for a loop. I was enthralled with the
famous "Vegas Vic" neon sign, a 40 foot tall cowboy wearing a big
stetson and boots, with a cigarette in his mouth, forever waving
his arm and welcoming us to Las Vegas and Freemont St.

The El Cortez is located at 6th Ave. and Freemont St., one block off
Las Vegas Blvd. To make it even more exciting and mysterious,
as we walked Freemont St., we could reach it by taking the pedes-
trian walkway to the hotel's main entrance. The walkway was a
marvel. It was 1,500 feet long with a 90 foot high overhead canopy
with thousands of small blinking lights. It connected several hotels
along Freemont St. from Las Vegas Blvd. to Main St.

When you stepped from the walkway into the main entrance of the
hotel, you stepped into glamour, beautiful marble floors, paneled
walls, elegant draperies, plush furniture, and walls lined with
autographed pictures of Hollywood celebrities, sports celebrities,
political greats, and scenes from Broadway and Las Vegas shows,
and Bugsy reigning supreme with the headliners of the day. Of
course, we were not allowed to go into the casino, but we would
often catch a celebrity walking in the lobby, and it could be one of
the Rat Pack. Bugsy was often seen walking around with the ever
present cigar in his mouth, very much the genial host. Just
knowing who he was, and what he did, made us giggle, even as we
shivered if he looked our way.

We couldn't afford to eat in their main dining rooms, but could go to
the coffee shop, or get a hamburger, hot dog, or ribs, at The Grill.

Bugsy had added the Tower behind the original hotel and casino to
jazz it up and add more rooms. One of the sneaky things we loved
to do was to ride the Tower's elevator, getting off at each floor to
walk the hallways, hoping to be able to look into a room as a maid
was cleaning, or a guest was entering or exiting. The rooms looked
so glamorous and opulent.

It was at that time that I made myself a promise that I would one
day stay at the El Cortez Hotel. I wanted to walk those hallways
as a guest and use my key to enter one of those beautiful suites.
I wanted to partake of the famous El Cortez smorgasbord in the
huge dining room and browse the gift shops. It seemed a pretty
lofty goal for a teenager from Panaca.

Did I achieve that goal, realize that dream? To find out, you will

need to read my next story.

Families Are Forever. . . .

The Nephi John and Eliza Jane Terry Wadsworth home in Panaca.
James Allen Wadsworth, my father, lived in it while he was growing
up and later with his wife and family. I lived in it from the age of 2
until I was 11 or 12.

It is now the home of James Leo and Kathleen Vickers Wadsworth.

From the book - George Allen Wadsworth - Pilley to Panaca
September 10, 1896, "The new brick dwelling of N. J. Wadsworth
was nearing completion. When finished it would be the finest
residence in the county".

The new house was a big two-story home built by Albert Miller
of St. George. The home was eagerly looked forward to, for the
family included ten members and another was expected. After the
Wadsworth family moved into the house, it became known as the
"Castle", a name it is still affectionately called 115 years later.


I received a beautiful letter from my brother Leo yesterday. As
I was reading it again this morning, I was thinking about my
parents and my siblings. Of my two brothers and four sisters, only
Leo, and Delores are still living. Of George's three brothers and
three sisters, he is the only one still living. Both George and I were
the second youngest in our family.

Our mortal life is fragile. It is really but a moment in the eternities
to come. I grew up in a home with wonderful parents. They loved
me and my siblings unconditionally. They raised us to be good,
moral, people. We grew up with a deep and abiding love for our
parents and our siblings. We honored our parents and their desire
for us to love and respect our siblings and treasure our family ties.

Our parents set the standard with us to do all we could to preserve
family ties, the ties that bind us together eternally. We worked hard
to do this after our parents died. We carried on family traditions,
continuing to publish the James Wadsworth Tribal Gazette newsletter
and hold our Family Reunions. We have worked hard to instill within
our children, grandchildren, and great grandchildren, the importance
of our extended family. My generation will soon be gone and it will be
their responsibility to make sure their progeny continue what we
have worked so hard to preserve.

Leo, is now 90 years old, Kathy is 88, George and I are 80, and Pete
and Delores are 78. As patriarch of our family,Leo is the last source
of much of our family history and personal stories. Yes, Delores and I
know some of the stories but we are so much younger than Leo, there
are many that we have not heard.

As I share my personal history on my blog, I am writing stories about
my grandparents, parents, and siblings. These are stories my parents
aunts, uncles, and older siblings have told me, and also from reading
their personal histories, doing genealogy research and reading
published books about my ancestors.

Many of the stories I share have come from Leo. He has been so
wonderful about sharing them with me. Frequently, I receive a letter
from him with a beautiful and touching story. Such is so with the
letter I received from him yesterday. It has a story about Dad and is
also filled with his thoughts and reminiscences about his siblings. I
thought I would share it with you.

Sept 11, 2011
Panaca, Nevada

My very dear Ina and well loved, George,

Have been meaning to write for weeks, but never got around to it
because I convinced myself I'm too busy.

You will have to put up with my scrawl because I'm out of tape on
my 20 year old typewriter. I have several new ones someplace in
this house but I don't feel like looking.

If I didn't love this old house so much, I'd get out of it and go to a
lower altitude where both Kate and I feel better.

It may or may not be, but I often feel a presence in this house. Quite
often Grandma, and occasionally, Granddad. I woke up this A.M. with
the feeling Dad had been here in the night. Over and over in my mind
this A.M. I hear "Oh, the roses are blooming in Picardy", along with
'The End of a Perfect Day". Another favorite song of Dad's, "Lilac Time"
and memories of France are so closely associated with Dad in my mind.

Dad loved the famous tenors, Thomas L. Thomas and John (whose
last name escapes me.) We, Dad, had several Victor 78 records by
those two. He especially loved John, the great Irish tenor of the late
10s and 20s.

I don't know how much Ina knew of Dad's bad several weeks near the
end of the war (World War II), Dad was hauling a load of ammunition
to our front lines and his ammunition train was straffed by the
German Air Force. While he was cutting one of his beloved draft
horses who had been killed, from the the team, a wounded one kicked
his bad hip. He was already bruised and battered and sick, in the early
stages of the terrible flu that was epidemic at that time. He was sort
of abandoned for the medics to pick him up. A French farm woman
and her adult daughter found him. He was with them for several
weeks, very ill and nursed by them, before he was found by American
medics and returned to his regiment.

There is, of course, much more to this story, but the only two I knew
of who had the whole story were Uncle Lafe, and especially Uncle
Jack ( Nephi John, Jr.) and neither would ever tell the whole story,
but I heard enough for "surmising" (is that a word) to relate it.

I spend so much time thinking of my family. I had such a wonderful
host of immediate family, then aunts and uncles, and of course, cousins.

The most vivid and precious memories are of my siblings. I had a
separate and distinct relationship with each. Every time I get in a car,
I can see Ina sitting behind the wheel with tears streaming down her
face. I offer to let someone else teach her to drive but she would
always say, "No, I want you."

I see her shinnying up old Pardner's leg until she could reach the
stirrup. I see her on Silver, "in command". Then when she finally
talked me into letting her ride Lobo, the only female who ever did.
Ina was an excellent rider. She loved the horses and they trusted her.

I can't butter a waffle without thinking of Edna. She would never eat a
waffle until she had butter in every crevice. She was so intent.

Theresa was something special to all of us. The last time I saw her,
she sent all who were there out to shop because she wanted to visit
with me one on one.

Martha, was of course, Martha. My tag along sister. I have many
memories of her and of David and Delores, my only brother and baby
sister.

Those are some of his memories and reminiscences in the letter. He
talks about his and Kathy's health and closes with this:

"On the 26th of this month, Kate and I will celebrate our 60th
Wedding Anniversary. Just to remind you, Nephi John and Eliza Jane
and James Allen and Lois Stewart celebrated their 50th anniversaries
in this house. I would bet there are few houses that have had three
such celebrations for three immediate generations." He talks about
opening the old home for a celebration in their honor when they are
feeling better, maybe October.

He closes with this, "Our grandson, Jared, his really wonderful wife
and their new baby have called and want to "do us" at the house on
the 26th. We welcome it."

I wanted to share this letter because it contains some history, and
memories that I share with Leo. I, too, have felt a presence in the old
house. When I was a child living there, I often felt it so strong in the
upstairs master bedroom, on the balcony, and in the parlor, that I
was often frightened of something I was too young to understand
until one night I heard the grandmother I never knew whisper, "I
love you." Now, like Leo, I would just feel it as a confirmation of the
eternal love of our family. Many times during the day, I look at the
picture of the old house which hangs here in my home, and I smile.

Families are forever and I am grateful to know that we do have an
eternal family. The knowledge that we can be together, forever,
makes it easier to bear the trials we face throughout our mortal life .

A point of interest; Knowing of Dad's love for the song, "When You
Come To The End Of A Perfect Day" which had been sung at his father's
funeral, Mother asked George if he would sing it at Dad's funeral
service. I have never heard him sing more beautifully.

Dad had a beautiful singing voice. He sang tenor. At one time he
was invited to sing with The Tabernacle Choir after General
Authorities visiting Panaca for conference, heard him sing.

The great Irish tenor, John, whose last name Leo did not recall, was
John Count McCormack. Three of his most famous songs which Dad
loved, and which I often heard him sing, were "It's A Long Way To
Tipperary", "Keep The Home Fires Burning", and "Believe Me Of
All Those Endearing Young Charms". Keep The Home Fires
Burning and It's A Long Way To Tipperary were very popular songs
that were sung during World War II.

I made reference to the song "Lilac Time". Along the fence in front
of the old home, lilac bushes were planted. They bloomed in
profusion every spring and summer. The scent permeated the air
around the home. A fresh bouquet of blossoms was always in the
dinning room and parlor. Often, I can still smell that glorious
fragrance, and it evokes precious memories of my family.