For this question, we consulted with an old-timer, who wishes to remain anonymous, for his impressions of Las Vegas when it was mob-controlled. Here's a sampling of what he told us.
You are absolutely correct. La Cosa Nostra built this little paradise in the desert and they were not about to sit back and watch some thugs screw it up.
Truth is, they had rules. Lots and lots of rules. Some pertained to their wives, girlfriends, and mistresses, who were off limits to everyone else. To break this rule could get you a broken arm, a crushed kneecap, or a 38-caliber hole in your private parts.
Another rule was that any and all troublemakers -- from cheats and thieves to hit men, from screw-ups and loudmouths to crooks of all stripes -- would get "the 86," which meant a free ride eight miles out of town and a nice grave six feet deep.
The third rule, that "We only kill our own" and "No one dies in Vegas," has been well-publicized. To this day, no one dies in a casino. It's so rare as to be nonexistent that the local media will report anything about anyone who actually does die in a casino from whatever cause, and paramedics rarely if ever declare someone dead till he or she is out of the casino.
The Mob was the original group to declare war on drugs and get this: They were winning it hands down! They would sometimes plant the kiss of death on one of their own who crossed the non-narcotics rule. More often, however, they wouldn’t kill you, but you'd wish they had. See, turning on the family labeled you a "no-face." Those who compromised the non-narcotics rule (especially trafficking) were taken for a ride on lonely desert highway, flanked by two soldiers. At about 75 mph, the soldiers opened the back door and held the poor iggy's legs in the car, while pushing his face onto the pavement for a while. Not a pretty picture, but it got the job done.
The mob rules were clear about keeping the streets clean of bums, beggars, drunks, pimps, hookers, trick rollers, and dope peddlers, whom they believed were bad for business, taking money that rightfully belonged to them and chasing off their players. It was common sense: You didn't want to get between the mob and their money.
I was around then and yes, I felt safer in Vegas when it was under prior rulers and their rules. You could walk around day and night without the fear of being beaten up or robbed or rushed by streetwalking prostitutes. If something did happen to you, you didn't go to the cops; you went to the bosses. Everyone knew who was "connected" and we treated them with respect; they treated us with respect as well. A few of them were pure evil and we avoided them; there weren't many like that, but when you saw one coming in or walking through the joint, it was break time, or you needed to tie your shoelaces behind a filing cabinet, or you simply looked away and prayed.
Since those days, I often wonder who the bad guys are. I’ve seen the so-called good-guy bosses and owners and regulators and bureacrats and politicians and police do some horrible things to innocent people, while the smut peddlers, purse thieves, muggers, and rapists, especially the celebrity movie stars and athletes, take a free ride, getting away with anything. Back in the day, even Frank Sinatra had to play by the rules -- and he got taken to task when he didn't.
Yes, it was much different (better) when the "boys" were in charge of the playground.
