Crews make short work of revelers’ mess

Sito Negron

Friday, Jan. 2, 2004 | 11:24 a.m.

Las Vegas is nothing if not efficient.

Only hours after an estimated 270,000 people hugged, kissed and shot confetti as they welcomed 2004 to the Strip, casino work crews and county street sweepers had washed the debris away.

"At 4 in the morning you'd never know this happened," said Chris Diponde, a seven-year resident of the valley who was mostly correct. At 4 a.m. clusters of revelers still roamed the Strip and its offshoots -- Flamingo, Harmon, Paradise -- but the sidewalks and roadway were clear.

Police opened the Strip and its cross streets piece by piece, and the traffic control and street cleaning closed the night with the precision of a military operation, which was fitting considering the massive security presence from public safety personnel manning barricades, 20-foot-tall observation decks and helicopters throughout the night.

From a media perspective, the security -- stemming from a national terrorism alert and fueled by speculation of plots involving such major celebration centers as Las Vegas -- was clearly a major element of the public planning for the event.

From the ground, as the partying swelled from the time it got dark, nobody seemed to notice or mind the security, and it didn't appear to be a major topic of conversation for people, unless they were asked.

Diponde, 29, said it was "a good idea to close the airspace. I don't quite like the helicopters ... that was a little much." After the topic was brought up, and following the fireworks-accompanied countdown to 2004, he said "See, nothing happened."

Few people looked upward at the constant buzzing of the law enforcement helicopters, which scanned the crowds with searchlights. Only scattered remarks about the threat of terrorism could be heard throughout the night.

Yoshee Sodiq, 24, a web designer from Fort Worth, spent his second New Year's Eve on the Strip. When asked if he had any reservations about coming to Las Vegas he said, "Hell no. I can't live in fear."

However, the police presence -- which included a muzzled dog, and, Sodiq said, snipers visible from his room in New York, New York -- was a bit of "a trip," he said.

From his hotel room, Sodiq said, "we had this amazing view of the helicopter flying by. It was like, man, let the games begin."

Does that military-style security presence worry him? "Just a tad bit. It makes total sense, but ..."

Ohio native Michael Steven Gregg, 44, now a Las Vegan and a welder and fitter "by trade," was sitting in his friend's pedicab, parked to the inside of the sidewalk at Harmon and the Strip. The security was appropriate "for the situation at hand, but it's being overdone a bit," he said.

He had a more pressing and immediate concern.

"The cops made me dump my beer because it was in a can," he said. But it may have turned out for the best, he said, because after that he was "drinking whiskey out of a plastic bottle."

Police confiscated many bottles and cans, and some hotels set up tables with cups at exits so patrons could pour their drinks and take them out to the street.

It appeared to work. In one instance, when the rare sound of breaking glass was heard just before 11 p.m. in front of the Bellagio, the crowd booed.

People were so generally well-behaved that even the grass in front of Caesars remained untrampled.

There were some rowdy scenes, as police arrested 140 people, mostly for public intoxication, fighting and other relatively minor offenses.

But if you were walking the Strip all night, the worst you might have run into were a couple of near fights that were quickly quelled, either by police or bystanders. A group of about six teens tried to cross the Strip by jumping the barricades and running across the street; when one hesitated, three policemen ran towards him and his friends, yelling, "Go back. The barricade is there for a reason! Go Back!"

The night started early. Shortly after dark the first random screams could be heard, yells that would turn by after 10 p.m. to a dull roar that sounded like standing outside of a stadium.

Police assembled at intersections leading to the Strip, which was closed starting at about 7 p.m. Police dragged the pre-placed barricades into the street, providing more walking room for the swelling crowds, and creating plaza-like gathering points at major intersections like Tropicana, Flamingo, and Harmon.

Another popular spot was in front of the Venetian, where Fox television was broadcasting "America's Party," the New Year's show that featured live entertainment on stage -- like country singer Keith Urban and the Chippendale's dancers -- and concerts broadcast from elsewhere, like the Metallica show at the Hard Rock Hotel.

At 9 p.m. in Las Vegas, it was midnight in New York, and the Strip crowd in front of the Venetian, urged from the Fox stage, also engaged in a countdown.

Marion Christenson and Jeffery Miller kissed after the countdown. Visiting from Enumclaw, Wash., they had brought their daughter and her boyfriend for the girl's 21st birthday. "She's out there somewhere," said Christenson. "She ditched us," Miller said.

A few hours earlier, at the Candlelight Wedding Chapel, in the 2800 block of Las Vegas Boulevard South, a couple from Alberta, Canada, celebrated their special day.

Tim Smith and Beverly Howard Smith emerged from the chapel with best friend Dawn Logan, who laughed when asked if she had instigated the marriage.

"Why does everyone say that?" she said.

When asked what spurred the New Years nuptials, the bride smiled and said, "Insanity? No, just because."

The usual characters also appeared: street hawkers with beads, beer and flashing trinkets. Religious proselytizers held sail-sized signs that said "You want to go to hell, keep doing what you're doing" and Michael Woronicki talked into his portable speaker: "It's easy to rock and rock, to party down ... but all that matters is you're going to hell."

Passers-by yelled at him. "I can't hear you," crowed one. Others posed for pictures in front of him and the other proselytizers.

"Get high, get drunk, party down, same empty heart," he intoned back.

Later in the evening, looking at one of the signs about the impending trip to Hades, several young men chanted "Hell no, we won't go!"

After midnight, when most of the arrests are made and the near-fights become more serious, when the collective sighs in subtle relief that the helicopters and police dogs did not have to respond to anything more than the usual, Diponde surveyed the Strip and proclaimed it "Unbelievable. Every year it's great."

He said it was what he expected. Clean, efficient, relatively peaceful. After all, he said, "This is the best place in the world. Anybody that would do anything to Vegas -- that's just wrong."