Where I Stand 1965 — Hank Greenspun: Roxie’s played a big role in economy, social life of LV

Friday, Oct. 20, 2000 | 9:18 a.m.

Note to readers: This column by Sun founder hank Greenspun appeared on Sept. 23, 1965. Hank refers to a column written by former Review-Journal publisher Al Cahlan.

Al Cahlan brought up what was possibly one of the most fascinating periods in Las Vegas history when he discussed the "Roxie" era in his column.

I know it was a busy era for this newspaper. Millions of dollars in libel suits resulted from it.

But the lucky old Sun never lost a dime in that go-around.

For the benefit of newcomers who are not aware of the role Roxie's played in the economic and social life of our community, the best description of it could be taken from an earlier column of mine, which resulted in a $1 million libel suit by the then-sheriff of our good county.

It said, "After a brief stake-out of only 10 years, the sheriff's office has amassed sufficient evidence to suspect that Roxie's is not on the list of the Automobile Association of America as one of the approved motels."

Roxie's was at Formyle, which is now part of Las Vegas but was four miles out in those years. A big sign at the entrance stated, "Roxie's -- "Inner Springs Mattresses."

Eddie Clippinger was the proprietor and his wife, Roxie, shared with him under Nevada community property provisions. When he finally went to jail for white slaving, he walked alone. Roxie stayed behind. No community property in the can.

I was quite poetical during the beat of the " 'Twas the Night Before Christmas." I wouldn't dare reprint it now because I recall a later conversation with one ot the subjects of the poem who admitted he came looking for me with a gun.

But like Al Cahlan, who was offered 10 percent of the operation and temporarily went along out of a newsman's curiosity to learn who else was in on the deal, I, too, had alluring moments of financial aggrandizement if I would turn the eyes of the paper away from houses of prostitution.

When the C-Bar-C opened for business out on Paradise Road, a prominent Las Vegan came to my office and plunked an envelope on my desk with the remark, "This goes every month."

In the envelope were five $100 bills, which seemed to be a goodly sum to a fellow who had much difficulty meeting weekly payrolls.

"What am I supposed to do to earn it?" I asked. The answer was that I should look any way but to the corner of Paradise and Bond roads.

I told the leading Las Vegas citizen that he made a hell of a mistake. He never should have done it and a few days later the Sun came out with a banner welcoming the new house of prostitution to the area. We even suggested that Paradise Valley citizens picket the place and take license numbers and we would print it.

The evening before the headline, Ed Clippinger came storming into my office, raising the roof because the C-Bar-C was going into operation and the sheriff would do nothing about it.

Clippinger said the sheriff had given him an exclusive right to run in the county and it was up to this newspaper to close it or be accused of "being in with it."

The keeper of Roxie's was told what we thought of him and his operation and we threw the good sheriff in for good measure. The next morning was the headline and a column about the world's oldest profession. The C-Bar-C quickly burned down.

Since the closing of both places, this newspaper has been unjustly maligned about driving up the cost of some essential facets of life.

We were accused of driving the money-grabbers from the houses into the hotel lounges.

In defense of our position, we are not against any profession that makes some worthwhile contribution to our society and way of life. But we stand four-square against the former policy in this community of permitting a procurer to control the county, economically and politically, through his hold on elected and appointed officials whom he wined, dined, grafted and bugged.

Al Cahlan never did find out for sure who Eddie Clippinger's partners were, but we did after a million-dollar libel suit was filed against us. And the information did not cost us a dime. And there were no trades, either.

Here was our comment:

" 'Twas the eve before trial time

"And all through Formyle

"The girls are unhappy:

"The boss is on trial.

"The stockings were hung

"In the bathroom with care,

"The gals are on duty

"The sheriff is there ..."

Those were the days, and any references to sheriffs, elected officials and members of the smart set are not to be construed as persons presently holding office or even remotely connected with any events heretofore described.

It was an era of quid pro quo. A time when the dollar bought a full dollar of value, and happiness was a thing called Roxie.