Wynn remembers his friend Sinatra

Adrienne Packer

Friday, May 15, 1998 | 8:39 a.m.

The spotlight at the old Caberet showroom in the Golden Nugget illuminated the stool and microphone that served as tools for a man who for decades electrified a city that is not easily impressed.

Frank Sinatra's music played softly over the speakers above a polished black stage and a sparkling purple curtain.

Then walked in Steve Wynn, chairman of Mirage Resorts and a longtime pal of the late Sinatra.

"Turn it up," he said, closing his eyes and snapping his fingers. "That's better."

Wynn, a man whose name is now synonymous with Las Vegas, sat in front of the old stage Friday afternoon and spun stories about a legend whose name at one time also went hand in hand with the glitzy city.

His small audience -- sitting on the floor before him -- hung on every word.

It was 2:20 a.m. in New York on Friday when Wynn received a phone call from a mutual friend, singer Paul Anka, who delivered the news about 82-year-old Sinatra's sudden death.

"Frank had been ill," Wynn said. "The moment was going to come sooner or later. We had been thinking about it and dreading it."

Wynn spent hours traveling with Sinatra when Ol' Blue Eyes was playing on The Strip and at the Golden Nugget in Atlantic City, N.J.. He watched audiences melt to Sinatra's lyrics and passersby young and old fight to catch a glimpse of the legend.

Wynn still can't explain why Sinatra and his music touched such a wide variety of people. But it did.

He described a time about a decade ago when he and Sinatra entered a Massachusetts hotel lobby and a large group of young Girl Scouts were staring at the singer from behind a barricade.

"All these kids started just squealing, 'Frank Sinatra, Frank Sinatra,' " Wynn explained. "It was like he was Michael Jackson or something."

Wynn said he has asked Sinatra why he appealed to such a range of age groups.

"He said, 'Damned if I can answer that question, but I know it's wonderful,' " Wynn said. "He couldn't even answer the question."

While Sinatra gained attention for his reported ties to organized crime and his multiple marriages, Wynn said there were sides of the singer that only his close friends saw.

In 1983, Sinatra approached Wynn about switching venues from Caesars Palace at the heart of The Strip to the Golden Nugget in the less-popular downtown corridor. At first, his dressing room at the Caberet was a freight elevator.

"He walked in here and said, 'This is perfect,' " Wynn said. "He was the only man in show business of that caliber who wanted to come downtown. He said this room reminded him of an old saloon."

Wynn would drop by the Caberet the day before Sinatra was scheduled to perform and Sinatra would be sitting in his slacks and a golf shirt scanning sheet music with his reading glasses resting on his nose.

"Frank Sinatra, in his fifth decade of singing, rehearsed like it was his first job," Wynn said. "It was amazing his pursuit of excellence and his caring for the audience."

Wynn said one of the first times he heard Sinatra's music was when he visited The Sands casino -- the ultimate Rat Pack hangout. Sinatra was performing that night and his music belted from the hotel lobby speakers.

"When he played, it was like The Sands was the center of the universe," said Wynn, who added that no other performers in Las Vegas have matched the excitement Sinatra brought.

While photographs of Sinatra posing with dozens of celebrities have popped up during the last few days, Wynn is probably the only person whom Sinatra has serenaded while standing only in a T-shirt and briefs.

Wynn, who shaves each morning to Sinatra's music, was staying in a Houston hotel with Ol' Blue Eyes and convinced him to provide the music for his morning ritual.

"I wouldn't trade those memories and those years for anything," Wynn said.

Not only did Sinatra have a sense of humor, he also had a big heart. The free shows he performed for charity outnumbered his paid appearances. Wynn said Sinatra paid the band himself and never accepted money, which is unusual.

Wynn, who rarely makes public appearances, made himself available to reporters Friday. And when he finished telling stories about his old friend, he turned Sinatra's music back on and left the room.

The spotlight above Ol' Blue Eyes' old microphone dimmed.

Who says Las Vegas isn't nostalgic?