Las Vegas firefighters continue to spread lifesaving cheer in what can literally be described as a heart-warming style.
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Imagine the Republican National Convention coming to the Strip in July 2016, and the first image that comes to my mind is a sea of pale skin sizzling poolside. Whoever has the sunscreen concession is sure to make a killing.
Interested buyers continue to float offers for downtown’s historic St. Joseph’s Catholic School, but none has yet reached its $2 million asking price.
It was hard not to get caught up in super salesman Neal Smatresk’s high-energy spiel. Barely four years later, Smatresk just closed the deal on the president’s job at the University of North Texas, Denton. Las Vegas townies are still tuning up their trombones, but our music man is moving on.
For many Americans, perhaps most, today is best known as “Black Friday,” one of the busiest shopping days of the year. Although I realize its going against the crowd, I prefer to think of it as the National Day of Listening.
Fred Hesse was the mayor of Las Vegas from 1925 to 1931 during the heart of Prohibition. He believed in the power of booze and the potential of Fremont Street.
Some days it seems all roads lead to Las Vegas. That includes one of the darkest days in American history, Nov. 22, 1963.
On the morning of Nov. 22, 1963, G. Robert Blakey was a young lawyer with a bright future in the U.S. Department of Justice.
Like most people who travel on US 95, Malek and Jody Davarpanah could say they’d been through Goldfield. But the truth is, they never thought they’d end up living here.
Ron Delpit has struck an endless stream of words to paper in his long journalism career, but it was a poem he penned as a college freshman that still gets him choked up even after nearly 50 years.
Critics will call it a gimmick. Advocates will say it’s a sign of a brighter future. And the rest of us will smile at the irony and the symbolism when our famous “Welcome to Fabulous Las Vegas” sign officially makes the transition to solar power.
When it comes to geographic overstatement, Nevada’s front-row view of the amazing Death Valley cannot be beat. The Death Valley National Monument holds an almost mystical fascination not only for desert dwellers but for people from around the world.
I don’t know whether Steve Wynn can sing a lick, but when he called Monday, he sounded a little like his old friend Frank Sinatra crooning “My Way.”
To some people it seemed like a simple matter, a genuine no-brainer: Have insurance companies place oral chemotherapy on the same level as the intravenous cancer drug treatment.
It’s enough to make your favorite Martian’s antenna droop in depression.
Las Vegas is known for its big fights, but G. Robert Blakey and Gerald Posner were downright cordial when they squared off for a sparring session Thursday morning on Fremont Street.
As a state senator, Wilbur Faiss was ahead of his time. He raised his voice for women’s rights and made important contributions to Nevada, but he probably will be best remembered for his most successful role as Theresa’s husband.
Political comedy writers across the country surely are considering sending Assemblyman Jim Wheeler, R-Gardnerville, notes of gratitude after the language mangler managed to express a willingness to vote to bring back slavery if that’s what his constituents desired.
It took some time, but Steve Wynn got what he wanted.
The scale of the venture is dramatically different, but the casino industry trouble continues for Arik Kislin and the Gansevoort Hotel Group.
Entertainment history is filled with amazing comeback stories, but the return to the stage of Death Valley ballerina Marta Becket just might top them all.
The glow of a few roadside billboards isn’t much competition against the Strip’s blinding lights, but it’s a start.
Trumpet master Tommy Porrello is a proud Yankees fan, but he admits he’ll root for the Boston Red Sox in the World Series. All things considered, it seems like the right thing to do.
Her eyes fixed on the horizon, the Paiute woman is far from home but always striving.
Memories from four decades as a teacher and coach at Pahrump Valley High School will turn into a bit of history as documents from Rod Poteete’s career become part of the Pahrump museum’s collection.