Hoover Dam, a dam good tour

Decades ago, Laureen and I took our very young children to visit the Hoover Dam. Recently we revisited that trip and none of it looked familiar to me. Of course, in all transparency I sometimes wear mismatched socks - so, not remembering an adventure 20 years in the past seems to be not a big deal.

“Remember when Jessica asked if you had worked on the dam?” Laureen said, as we hiked from the furthest parking lot from the Hoover Dam visitor center. “That was funny.”

I smiled. Nope, I didn't recall that question from my daughter, though I do have memories of hanging off the cliffs on a single rope while drilling dynamite holes into the rock face as we began building the Boulder Dam.

Not John R Beyer at work, but this is how it was done 

“No,” I replied, “but what was funny was when I dropped the pick hammer and it landed in Joey’s head at the bottom of the canyon. Now, that was funny. Except, Joey did walk and talk a bit differently after that.”

Laureen had arranged for a tour of the Hoover Dam, along with 33 of our closest strangers. She believed it was a total dam tour but as we stood in line with our phones ready to scan at the visitor’s center, we learned it was for the power plant section of the dam only.

“I thought it was for the whole dam,” Laureen said.

“Shouldn’t curse,” I replied.

Hoover Dam is an architectural masterpiece - pure genius, guts, and engineering.

Without going into too much history of why Boulder Dam was built in the first place, there were three major reasons - flood control since the river loved to surprise folks living shoreside with unpredicted floods which wiped out crops and towns, to provide controlled/regulated irrigation for farms which help to feed the population, and produce hydroelectric power for all those people who had moved into California, Arizona, and Nevada.

Seemed the thing to do.

In 1869, John Wesley Powell led a group of adventurers down the raging Colorado River in wooden boats. This river’s path and ferocity was unknown to most people, even the Native Americans who had lived near the flowing water for eons.

Powell managed to make it through the sometimes Class 5 rapids in the Grand Canyon and lived to write about it. He was a strong leader, who had served in the Civil War for the Union side and actually lost half of his arm during the Battle of Shiloh in Tennessee but this did not slow the adventurer down.

It was his final reports after the journey down this magnificent river in the southwest that made folks in the east understand the importance it had to the development of the country. Rich mineral finds, large tracts of vacant lands perfect for farming and grazing, and great weather made the idea of converting this river into a life giving bloodline for pioneers could be crucial for an expanding nation.

And, the pioneers heard the call and moved west.

In 1902, Arthur Powell Davis who worked for the Bureau of Reclamation decided that perhaps a dam should be built, or multiple dams.

It would be 30 years before the construction for such an ambitious project could begin.

Laureen and I wandered along with the tour to visit the power plants that make Hoover Dam so important to millions of people living in the southwest.

Over 7 million guests visit the huge Hoover Dam yearly which borders the states of Nevada and Arizona - there is actually a stamp along the dam where a photo can be snapped showing where a person could stand between both states. I chose Nevada - no personal state income tax.

A bridge for vehicles and pedestrians span the Colorado River

Our guide, Matt, was young and very well versed about the dam and the power plants we were visiting.

“We are now five hundred and thirty-six feet deep into the dam,” Matt said, after we had taken an elevator into the depths of the cement structure.

It was a bit surreal, realizing that on either side of where we were standing there was about a trillion gallons of water pushing against the thick cement walls of the dam. 

Laureen Beyer deep within Hoover Dam

“If these walls busted,” I said to Laureen, “we’d be in Mexico in a matter of minutes.”

My lovely wife has a bit of claustrophobia, so I didn’t press the issue. 

“Isn’t that weird? We could be at Cabo Wabo within an hour. Margaritas on me,” I continued.

She gripped my hand so tightly that I looked to see if she had changed places with Chuck Norris.

Matt continued with his dialogue about the building of the Hoover Dam and it was awe inspiring.

“We have to remember that the dam was started in nineteen-thirty-one and finished in nineteen-thirty-six, two years earlier than the date promised,” Matt said. “And, this was men working with picks, shovels, drills, dynamite, and sweat. An unbelievable accomplishment, no matter the year.”

Drill marks can still be seen near Hoover Dam

At the time such a construction was thought impossible. A building project as the Boulder Dam (it was later renamed Hoover Dam) had never been done and was the largest manmade endeavor attempted at the time. 

But that did not stop the chutzpah of American knowhow.

With the leadership of  Chief Engineer Frank Crow starting in 1931, the building of the dam and safety of his crews was most on his mind.

Over 5,000 workers were employed to construct the dam and the pay was not wonderful, generally four dollars per day - of course, those who had more dangerous jobs could earn another dollar. It should be noted though, this was during the Great Depression and lines of men from Las Vegas waited daily for a chance to earn a buck or two for their families.

In the years of the building, less than 100 men died during the construction - any death is a tragedy but for such a mammoth and long term project, it was not unexpected deaths would occur.

“And for those who have heard the rumors,” Matt said. “No one was covered by cement and died. No, the deaths were from men falling off cliffs, blasting accidents, heat exhaustion, drowning, and other causes. Terrible as that is.”

During our tour we learned that the amount of cement used is almost unimaginable. “Over four point three million cubic yards of cement was used,” Matt informed us.

“How much is that?” I asked Laureen, she’s smarter in these matters than me.

She simply rolled her eyes. “A lot.”

Turns out that amount of cement could produce a 16 foot highway from New York City to the city of San Francisco. That is a lot of concrete.

South side of Hoover Dam - that's a lot of concrete

We were hundreds of feet down into the dam, which is over 660 feet wide at the bottom of Boulder Canyon and a narrow 45 feet at the top, where tourists can walk.

“The dam is so wide at the bottom, that twenty percent of the cement is still curing,” Matt told the visitors.

He asked if there were any questions. “How long does the government believe this dam will last,” I asked.

“Good question,” the guide said. “Back in the fifties it was examined and determined it would last one thousand years.”

There was an audible gasp. “But today, we believe it will be closer to four thousand years. Every once in a while core samples are taken from the bottom and studied, that’s how the engineers came up with that last figure.”

In a few minutes we reentered the elevator and traveled upwards about 50 feet to where we were able to view the huge steel turbines stationed within the walls of the dam. 

Turbines on the Arizona side of Hoover Dam

“Above us are two cranes needed to lift these turbines,” Matt said. “They are able to lift three hundred tons each.”

Looking across the nearly 650 feet to the other end of the cavernous interior of the dam was amazing. Fork lifts, trucks, and everything needed to keep these turbines which produced ample energy for millions of people looked like toys in comparison to each of the size of the machinery.

There are 17 such turbines in the complex, nine on the Arizona side and eight on the Nevada side. Our guide went into a monologue about the megawatts produced as billions of gallons of water rushed into each turbine spinning its innards like a washing machine - except a whole lot faster.

I was suddenly confused with all the technical talk. 

Just one of the water pipes within Hoover Dam

Soon the tour was over and as we walked across the top of the dam, I could only ponder what John Wesley Powell would think about this dam which tamed the mighty Colorado River.

I suspect he would smile.

For more information: Hoover Dam | Bureau of Reclamation (usbr.gov)

Happy New Year - 2024

 

May this New Year that is upon us find you planning wonderful and exciting escapes to places you have never been before. This round ball of a planet has so much to offer and you have so much to offer it in return.

Happy New Year from the Mob Museum in Las Vegas, Nevada

                                 Get out and and travel in 2024!!!!

                            Traveling freely along the Amazon River in Peru - Make it yours

Alamo, Nevada

 

The Alamo, Texas

Going on a road trip is awesome. The planning, the packing, the pressure, the pain, and then the panic.

“I’m going to be gone for two or three weeks,” I looked at Laureen. “Who’s going to make your coffee each morning?”

My trip to northern Nevada, Western Idaho, Eastern Oregon, and Northern California had been in the works for awhile. I do, occasionally plan trips but most of the time I wing it. This time I had some destinations in mind - actually I didn’t but pretended I did.

My friend Paul asked, “Where are you going?”

“The byways, my friend.”

“You have no idea, do you?”

I really didn’t but I knew I would be driving north at the beginning of August. Then Laureen changed my plans.

She broke her right foot. I think it was the metamucil or the metacognitive bone, but I probably have that wrong - I do remember Laureen explaining which bone it was that was broken after the x-ray but I wasn’t really listening.

Being the dutiful husband I am, I postponed the trip to be at her beck and call. And in the following six weeks, there was a lot of beckoning and a lot of calling 

She mended just fine but I was exhausted. I had to get on the road for some relaxation.

One hurdle while driving north on Interstate 15 toward northern Nevada is that the traveler must navigate the traffic of Las Vegas.

The economy may not be looking so great right now but try explaining that to the builders in Sin City.

New housing projects are popping up like weeds. Huge industrial complexes are sprouting like weeds. Hotels and apartment buildings are growing like weeds. And medicinal cannabis clinics are appearing like - well, weeds.

It was so confusing driving in stop and go traffic along Interstate 15 with all the freeway ramps and lanes closed that finally my GPS sent me a message: ‘you are now on your own.’

Laureen called me on my second day on the trip.

“Where are you?”

“I’m on Flamingo Boulevard for the thirtieth time in the past forty-eight hours.”

“So, stop and ask for help,” she replied.

Something no true man wants to do, but I had. A kindly Las Vegas police officer advised me, “I’ve been on Tropicana for the past three days. I don’t know where I am now.”

A week later, I located Route 93 and headed north. Nearly two hours after that, I came to the small quaint village by the name of Alamo.

The sun was slowly setting in the west, as it usually does, and my energy levels were in sync with that blazing bag of  hydrogen and helium.

Since I was pulling the tent trailer, or pop-up trailer as some like to call it, I pulled into Pickett’s RV Park and obtained a space.

It was a nice place to stay for the night. Courteous folks, large sites, and shady trees.

I did not know much about this berg but soon learned it is very small. Took thirty seconds to come to that realization. No stop sign. No traffic signal. Just the long black pavement of the highway bustling past a Sinclair gas station.

The town has a population of around 1,000 people and is pretty rural. Sitting along State Route 95 only 90 miles north of Las Vegas does allow the small locale plenty of byway travelers which support the couple of gas stations and motels in the area.

Sitting at nearly 3,500 feet in elevation gives the area a coolness that the folks down the hill in Vegas never feel.

“The pavements are melting,” one resident of Las Vegas may say to another during the summer. “Let’s head to Alamo.”

“What can we do there?”

“Not become a pile of liquid goo.”

A post office has been in operation since 1905, so Alamo is not a ghost town per definition.

I took a few moments (after setting up a very bougie sort of camp with carpets, a welcome mat that I do not really mean, and exterior solar lights), to drive the few streets the town has to offer in the way of neighborhoods.

It was impressive. Beautiful green lawns, tall billowing trees set against the background of neatly painted and well-kept houses. The schools I drove by would be the envy of any larger town.

Alamo has it going on, except for a lack of restaurants and bars.

The town was founded by a group of Mormons and with their religious beliefs concerning abstinence from alcohol, none was allowed within the town limits.

That changed earlier this year, when the town board started allowing alcohol sales in gas stations and supermarkets, but bars were still a no-no. 

No issue for this traveling writer - always carry a large ice chest just in case you end up in a dry county or town. 

Many believe the founders of the town wanted to immortalize the battle which took place nearly 1,400 miles southeast of their mainly ranching community.

But, the true story may be that when the community was imagined by Fred Allen, Mike Botts, Bert Riggs, and William Stewart, they thought the name Alamo, which is Spanish for poplar, would be appropriate because of all the poplar trees growing in the area.

“Remember the Alamo trees,” Riggs may have yelled at a community meeting.

“Let’s forgo the tree part, shall we,” Stewart may have returned.

Alamo is located within the Pahranagat Valley, and no matter how hard I tried I could not pronounce that name, but it is a beautiful long valley with soft rolling hills dotted here and there with ranches. Long white fences squaring off grasslands where horses and cattle seem pretty happy just munching away.

A few miles to the south along Route 93 is the Pahranagat National Wildlife Refuge. 

It is over a 100 years old and was started by the locals as a respite for migratory fowl which would be flying here and there on their way somewhere. 

The over 5,000 acre refuge actually wasn’t created officially until August of 1963 in Lincoln County and is part of the larger Desert National Wildlife Refuge Complex. This complex, at nearly 2 million acres, happens to be the largest such refuge in the lower 48 states. 

Rumor has it that Hawaii did not return a phone call since it was embarrassed that all they had was a bunch of islands, and Alaska scoffed saying that the average citizen there had that many acres in their front yards.

I drove to the refuge and found it very relaxing and peaceful just sitting on one of the many benches that surround a large lake.

People in motorhomes, camping vans, and tents seemed very content while sitting in their lawn chairs in the designated campsites staring out across the sparkling blue waters toward the Badger Mountains to the west.

“We love it here,” Beatrice told me. “We’re from Henderson and like to get away up here and away from the hustle and bustle of city life.”

Her husband, Anthony, told me he likes to look for the green-winged teal, various mallards, pintails, and shovelers.

I had no idea what he was talking about but smiled as though I did. “Any luck today?”

“A beautiful mallard, but that’s about it,” Anthony stated. “Though to be honest, I’m just relaxing.”

Easy to see how that can be the call of the day. A slight breeze with the temperature in the mid-seventies made for a perfect outing.

The entire valley has seen humans strolling around its lush lakes and rolling hills for thousands of years.

Evidence of early American Indian tribes have either lived or traveled through the valley for the past 8,000 to 13,000 years ago. With all the abundant wildlife available in the area it was a no-brainer for the native tribes to settle here.

Deer, elk, antelope roam the hills and valleys freely making hunting relatively easy for experienced  hunters. The lakes and streams are full of trout, crappie, and catfish. Tens of thousands of fowl, of every species, make their way across this vast land giving the opportunity of those living here to have plenty to eat.

This valley had it all from ancient inhabitants all the way to the modern ones.

So, is Alamo worth a visit on its own? Not sure I would make it a final destination, but for a place to slow down for the night and relax, then definitely yes.

And, besides - it is only 13 miles to the most eastern section of the Extraterrestrial Highway.

Mentoring in the 21st Century

With all due apologies for this hasty post, we just completed a presentation at the Innovative Schools Summit in Caesar's Palace, Las Vegas, and the requests for our PowerPoint were such that we felt it worthy of a post.

Below is the link to the pdf of the presentation. Thank you sincerely to all who joined us in making a difference for kids.

Link to pdf: Mentoring in the 21st Century

For further information please contact us by email at jandlresearchandexploration@gmail.com or by text at (760)265-2676.

Racing Like the Wind

But then again  it is fast!

When out and about the thought of getting into a fast little go cart seems the right thing to do – or perhaps not for everyone.

Well it was for J and L – perhaps there had been some pre-planning ahead of time by their daughters and son-in-laws but if they had been out and about they may just . . .

A very Patriotic sort of raceway - nice touch

A day at the tracks driving a Honda-powered 200cc cart trying to be careful while pursuing first place with no regards for safety, perhaps a bit, meant a lot of fun. It was just another place to explore locally and take advantage of what was in our own backyard – almost since it was only a short half hour drive to Fast Lap in Ontario.

Fast Lap with, at this writing, has an indoor facility in Ontario, California and Las Vegas, Nevada offering some pretty thrilling moments behind the wheel of these four stroke speedsters. Some of the ‘karts’ can go up to 50 mph but most have been throttled down to 25 to 30 mph for the safety of the customers.

These go-carts are not for the faint at heart

No, this is not an advertisement but just a blog about getting out and seeing what there is to do with friends and family nearby that is exciting and thrilling.

With some imagination the driver feels as though they are at the Indianapolis 500. Okay, perhaps not but there is something to be said about being strapped into a vehicle so  low to the ground it can be reached by simply dropping one’s hand to the cement track. Recommendation here – don’t do that while tooling around the track trying to get a head of the other drivers – good way to lose a finger.

Researching this indoor racing track brought a many things to light: no license is needed but children under 18 years old must have an adult supervisor, drivers must be 51 inches or taller and weigh no more than 350 pounds, no open toed shoes can be worn, helmets must be worn at all times, no intentionally running into other cars (duh – really but it has to be spelled out for some drivers), watch for flags on the track (yellow to slow, red to stop, white and black striped race over and green meaning ‘smash the gas pedal’).

Who is that Blur?

Whenever traveling even to a locale nearby research is important – as listed above simple things like wearing flip-flops (sandals, huaraches, or whatever isn’t allowed) would have ruined the days since the concept of racing would have been a no-no according to Fast Lap. Research isn’t only for faraway lands but those things that also happen near your abode.

With the green flag twelve drivers took off trying desperately to get ahead of each other with but with the curving twenty foot wide track lined with large rubber tires for protection obtaining first place on the first lap was with difficulty. Right, left, right, straight at speeds from zero to more than twenty-five tested each driver’s mettle as they concentrated not only on the track but those speeding around them. After a couple of laps it was easier to judge distances both in gassing the carts and braking allowing sophisticated driving to occur – okay, perhaps it was just trying not to bump into the carts and trying with all your might to pull ahead of the cart in front of you without ramming head on into the wall of tires.

L and J looking oh so sexy

Of course, attention must be paid for the slower drivers – those who are simply out for Sunday drive instead of understanding the competition of RACING! Carts are meant to be sped in not coast in – drive, pivot, fly in and out of traffic, snarl, growl, and get into first place.

There are individual timers on each cart so at the end of the race the driver could see their time but we all realize that a true champion only races against themselves. Not! You gotta beat the other drivers to the checkered flag.

Waiting for the Green and then gun it for all its worth

You just gotta!

You're next, and this time I mean it!

Three fifteen or so minute races went by way too quickly but luckily between each race there was a cooling down period for the drivers – Adrenalin was pumping through the veins and everyone needed a breather. One on and one off is the normal for Fast Lap unless there are no crowds which is hardly the case since the place seems to be always hopping.

Helmets and driving suits – yes just like the big adults in the racing world – then donning the gloves awaiting the next round of races only built the excitement that was to come.

Antici --- pa ---tion

The engines were started by the Fast Lap crew and then the flag was dropped again – smell of gasoline mixed with oil was in the air – refreshing to say the least considering the entire venue is enclosed in a mammoth building. Luckily these tracks have huge exhaust systems that change the air in the building every 4 or 5 minutes which is needed or they’d be having nothing but a bunch of coughing and hacking drivers making way toward the exits.

Two hours and three races later – it was crowded and sometimes the wait between races can be a half hour or more but it was worth it. A few sore ribs from bashing into a rubber wall left J in pain but smiling nonetheless.

Donning the racing gear

Who be the speed demon out there?

A day with family in a nearby entertainment facility is what is called for sometimes. 

Forgetaboutit

The Mob Museum - Las Vegas

The following blog was never written and you never read it! J and L state unequivocally that they never visited the Mob Museum in Las Vegas - the what and where - and if they actually did would not admit it.

It's the way of the 'family' - we took an oath - had to be real since it was on the tour.

People on Facebook should think this way

Okay, say you belong to one of the infamous Mafia five families from back East - that would be New York (set up by Lucky Luciano and Meyer Lansky dividing New York up so the often fatal 'wars' would stop between rival mafia gangs) and you put up the money to build a rather luxurious hotel in the middle of a 'frigging' desert, wouldn't you want it a secret? That's the way it was back in 1947 when the finishing touches for the Flamingo were finished, after going way over it's budget of four million - it cost 6 million which did not make the families happy. But the man behind the hotel/casino was Benjamin "Bugsy" Siegal and everyone liked him - he was handsome, endearing, charismatic, and a cold-blooded killer. Bugsy (never say that to his face) was a founding member of Murder Inc. - the infamous gang that boasted at least 1,000 mob hits during its heyday. Not a man to be fooled with unless you happened to be the head of one of the five families. Bugsy didn't scare them much and after spending more than two million of the mobs money your good looks can only get you so far.

Good-looking guy, this Bugsy.

Not a good end for Bugsy

Actually, it was Beverly Hills that Bugsy got before multiple 30 caliber bullets found his head in June of 1947.

The families (the hit was authorized by Meyer Lansky himself) don't like their money spent at what they believed at the time was a waste - today - they would have given him a raise for the forethought he had in knowing Las Vegas would go from a hole in the desert to a thriving mega-capital of the rich and famous.

At forty-one, Bugsy was way ahead of the mob members who had sent him West to develop sand - so sad for the Bugsmeister and within thirty years so with the families. In the eighties and nineties the Mafia was pretty much kicked out of Las Vegas after investigation after investigation and they sold their holdings to legitimate businessmen and women. Supposedly, as of 2015 there is no mob connection in Las Vegas - of course with gambling, prostitution, drugs and such who would doubt such a statement.

A few places the Mafia had control in - as far as we know

The Mob Museum at 300 Stewart Ave in Las Vegas is a three story tell-all on organized crime in the United States. Starting on the third floor descriptions and exhibits explain how the immigrants from Ireland and Italy came to America looking for a better life and that some of those immigrants decided it was easier to steal to make a living than it was to work. The entire history runs floor to floor with sometimes graphic details and photographs sowing the brutality of the Mafia in America. There are actually signed warnings about certain rooms which may be to terribly bloody and graphic for some viewers - we visited them all.

Please stand against wall with hands behind your back

There are some rather macabre exhibits like a gas chamber chair actually which had been used in multiple death sentences, a mock up of an electric chair that the visitor can calmly sit and have a person pull the switch giving off otherworldly sounds of imminent demise, weapons of all calibers owned and used by members of the Mafia for other than good deeds, and the actual wall from the famous Saint Valentine's Day Massacre of 1929 where 7 members of Irish mobster Moran's gang were executed by Capone's gang in a mechanics garage. That was really weird seeing the bullet holes and blood spatters - unless they really red paint - no, the MOB Museum wouldn't paint over blood since that would ruin the ambiance.

Shave and a Haircut 2 bullets

Infamous names jumps out to the visitor - Al Capone, Albert Anastasia, Mickey Cohen, Sam Giancana, Tony Spilotro, Whitey Bulger, and John Gotti to name just a few litter the museum as the guest walks and reads the tales of these men. No good virtues any of them had but there was something in that museum that shed a bit of light on what most would believe were people who had no moral compass - they did in a sick and twisted way.

The Mafia code called for no harm to any family members of a 'Made Man'. Wives and children were out of bounds for killing. As poor old Bugsy Siegal was once quoted while talking with Del Webb (yes, the developer) - "Del, don't worry, we only kill each other."

We don't know a thing, Copper! Go blow your whistle elsewhere.

There, from a murderers mouth - there was a code of ethics within the Mafia.

Famous names are also present at the museum with notables such as Ralph Lamb, Estes Kefauver, Thomas Dewey and J. Edgar Hoover (no photos of him in a dress though) along with dozens of other FBI and government law men who made life as difficult as they could to those who tried to buck the system - the Mafia.

Three floors of walking, reading, watching, and learning what impact the Mafia had on America from the beginning to the present - yes, there is a present and a sad commentary is that since 9/11 and so much time and resources from the United States Government is spent on National Security the Mafia is slowly climbing back into the American mainstream. We don't hear about it since who cares about someone running a prostitution ring or drug trafficking when there are terrorists among us?

We're back - actually never left

Hmmm - a new beginning

What anyone may think of the Mob, they are not stupid but very opportunistic.

See what can be learned when a museum like this one can be researched and explored - amazing and scary.

              ~~~

Again - you didn't read any of this here.

Surreal for the Holidays

Season of Miracles

With the 2015 Christmas and New Year holidays approaching at breakneck speed, J and L decided to visit with L's sister, Beth (she has been in our blogs before) and her husband Dean, just before Christmas in Las Vegas. It had to be before the festive day of the 25th itself since that is the date when local family and friends descend on the abode of the intrepid duo for a celebration of why Christmas is so special - lots of laughter, giving, and tons of food which everyone enjoys but later complain that the pounds magically appeared around the waist.

Laureen and Beth - being sisters

It is the season of magic - isn't it?

It was also the first holiday season without J's mother, Anne,  so we both decided to splurge a bit by staying at the Bellagio on Las Vegas Blvd. Anne would have loved the place - like her - lots of class.

View from 25066

The Resort was opened on October 15th, 1998 by the Mirage Resorts Corporation, owned by Steve Wynn at a cost of 1.6 billion dollars. The opening ceremony with dignitaries from around the world cost over 88 million dollars in celebration - that is a huge and expensive party!

Steve had done it right - immediately the fabulous resort was determined as a must stay by travelers the globe over. With 3,015 rooms on 36 floors - different towers house the rooms and each room tastefully decorated with grace and taste. Of course, there are plenty of upscale restaurants such as Lago, Jasmine, Picasso just to name a few), shops (Rolex, Fendi, Gucci, again just to name a few), theaters, musical venues, pools, fitness rooms, conference centers, and anything else a guest or organization would require or dream of. And yes, there are thousands of square feet of casino for those interested in bucking the tiger of the house (the tiger generally bites rather hard).

Nice hallway to the conference centers

Even the Penguins wear formal attire

What do you stuff in that stocking?

Through the years the Bellagio has been listed as one of the Leading Hotels in the World as well as the AAA Five Diamond Award 15 years in a row plus numerous other awards which would take an entire blog to write about. Combine all of the above with the famous Fountains of Bellagio, the Conservatory, Botanical Gardens and the Gallery of Fine Arts and it is easy why this resort was the one chosen by J and L. - now it should be understood, we do not work for Mr. Wynn as public relations but then . . .Steve, you know . . . J used the Wynn as a backdrop for his last novel Soft Target - sorry about blowing a lot of it up though (it was fiction okay).

Pg. 242 -  Wynn Explodes

A wonderful couple of days planned with family and fun in Vegas but which suddenly turned into something J and L had not imagined nor would have ever wanted to.

Murder.

The evening of the 20th of December J and L dressed for a night on the town in their room on the 25th floor overlooking the fountains listening on channel 22 to the choreographed music to the waters below and smiled at each other. Looking sharp and relaxed it was time to hit the Strip for a drink, some shopping and a great and probably expensive dinner - that's just Vegas.

 Enjoy the moment.

Selfie or not - we were having fun

Walking across the bridge that stretches across Las Vegas Blvd. J and L snapped photos like the thousands of other explorers and visitors and stopped in at the Hexx on the east side of the boulevard for an adult beverage before heading into the Paris Hotel to wander and take in all the beautiful holiday decorations within the resort and picking up a few things here and there for family back home. Leaving the Paris Hotel and planning to walk leisurely about the Strip for an hour or so before dinner L wanted to walk the long way back in front of the Paris Hotel but J insisted they take the pedestrian bridge across Las Vegas Blvd. to Caesar's  Palace where there were some interesting sounding restaurants that may be worth inspecting - it was at this time that a police vehicle sped by below with red lights and sirens.

The ideal evening of fun and exploring stopped.

30 Minutes earlier

Where the Monster drove onto the sidewalk committing murder

From the walkway suspended over the boulevard J and L stood astonished, amazed and saddened by dozens and dozens of police units, ambulances and fire vehicles tearing down from all directions and stopping in front of the Paris Hotel.



Within minutes Las Vegas Boulevard was blocked off north and south in front of the Paris Hotel and the Bellagio and more emergency units were arriving by the second. L, through text messages tried to find out what was going on and Beth did her best with updates but since the scene was so fresh all accounts were fluid and sometimes contradictory - a drunk driver, an explosion, the Miss Universe was canceled because shots were fired, it was a gang related firefight in front of the Paris Hotel - and on and on went the updates from Beth and passerby's on the street.

No one knew what was happening except the authorities who kept showing up in record numbers.

Beautiful view, marred by tragedy

Of course, as J and L made their way slowly to the front of the Bellagio listening as best they could to all the rumors floating around about terrorists, gang violence and such one thing was clear - this evening had turned from celebration to mourning.

First Responders

The simple and terrible truth was that a thirty-two year old homeless woman (per the most recent news and police chatter) was upset at the world because of her failures and decided to take it out on a group of pedestrians in front of the Paris Hotel with her car. Those innocents were there celebrating one of the most cherished holidays in the world and she was there to bring misery - she did - killing one and injuring more than thirty who will probably survive the physical trauma but not the emotional.

This creature, this monster was a terrorist on this 20th of December - she may not plead a jihad against the civilized world but she did bring hours and hours of terror into a beautiful night in Las Vegas.

Evil was her name and she did it with her three year old daughter strapped into the back seat - how much more evil could she be?

After an hour or so J and L were able to make their way back to their room on the 25th floor of the Bellagio and look down on the flashing lights of dozens of emergency vehicles instead of the festive romp of fountains displaying holiday cheer.

A fancy and relaxing dinner forgotten - news viewing and window peering were the headlines of the rest of the evening.

As they sadly watched the action below a thought entered their minds - if L hadn't wanted to shop, if J hadn't insisted on walking across the bridge of the boulevard instead of walking in front of the Paris Hotel, this blog may have had a different ending.

There is always the dawning of a new day!

L had taken J's photo at the exact spot the monster had decided to drive her vehicle at thirty miles per hour into a group of tourists (and then back up and do it again) only thirty minutes earlier. And then, a turn to the left instead of the right would have put J and L in line with the demented woman's vehicle which struck the crowd of thirty plus only four minutes earlier - the time it took to walk there after leaving the Paris Hotel.

Surreal - yes! It is a magical time of the year - at least for these bloggers.