Thursday, April 28, 2005
Copyright © Las Vegas Review-Journal

JANE ANN MORRISON: Gordon's family leaves the skeletons in his closet and out of his obit

Jack Gordon's obituary would have been easy to miss.

The name isn't distinctive. There was no photo. On the first quick read, I wasn't sure it was "that Jack Gordon."

Gordon, who died at 66, was described vaguely as "a retired entrepreneur in various industries."

Nowhere did it say he was once married to LaToya Jackson, whose brother is on trial on child molestation charges and whose sister is renowned for her Super Bowl flash. Also missing was how, in 1978, Gordon tried to bribe Harry Reid, then the chairman of the Nevada Gaming Commission, now the Senate minority leader.

But when the obituary listed his brother as Terry Gordon, onetime king of tease, I knew it was the same Jack Gordon. Terry Gordon's claim to fame was that girls in his Las Vegas clubs suggested that sex would be forthcoming with the purchase of overpriced nonalcoholic drinks. Patrons, usually unsuspecting tourists, were 86'd if they dared complain.

At the time he tried to bribe Reid, Jack Gordon and another man were seeking approval of new gaming devices, Flip-A-Winna and Penny Falls, two games reminiscent of Gordon's origins in carnival life.

During his three-week trial in federal court in 1979, which it was my pleasure to cover as a reporter, Gordon boasted that in two years, he'd be making $116 million on the games. To get licensed, he offered a paltry $12,000 to Reid.

We know this because Reid promptly went to the FBI and reported the bribe and agreed to be videotaped during the payoff.

Knowing he was being videotaped, after FBI agents moved in for the arrest, the usually mild-mannered Reid yelled, "You son of a bitch, you tried to bribe me." Then he tried to choke Gordon before agents stopped him.

When he testified on his own behalf, Gordon said the truth was that Reid had solicited the bribe and that he actually gave Reid marked bills and was going to report Reid, not to the FBI, but to the most notable criminal defense attorney of the day, Oscar Goodman. Gordon hadn't bothered to tell the FBI about his crime-fighting plan and, when he was arrested, initially told the FBI that he had paid Reid $12,000 for legal advice.

When federal prosecutor Larry Leavitt (now a federal magistrate) tried to get him to admit he lied about hiring Reid, Gordon offered this memorable explanation: "I can't say I lied. I can't say I told the truth. I can't recall making the statement."

The jury didn't believe him and, despite the best efforts of Gordon's defense attorney, Richard Wright, convicted Gordon and his co-defendant, Joe Daly, of conspiracy. They received six-month prison sentences.

Wright spoke to Gordon not long ago. His client was writing a book about his life and wanted to check some dates for accuracy. "He was an eternal optimist," Wright said. "You couldn't keep him down. He was effervescent and a nice guy to be around."

Wright remembered visiting Gordon in a jail in San Diego where Las Vegas prisoners were kept because of overcrowding. As he was escorted in, the guard was exceptionally courteous and friendly, asking if Wright wanted water and ending, "Will that be all, sir?" When Gordon entered, Wright mentioned the guard's behavior.

"Jack rubs his thumb against his finger, indicating he was giving him money. I went ballistic," Wright said. "You're telling me you're taking care of the guards in here? Knock this shit off!"

After he served his time, a slimmed-down Jack Gordon returned to Wright and asked for the gold jewelry he'd left in his attorney's care. Gordon unbuttoned his shirt, put on the gold and was ready to return to the life of the opportunistic promoter.

He met LaToya Jackson, became her manager and, in 1991, married her in Reno. When she filed for divorce in 1996, she accused him of beating her to force her to dance topless.

The lesson here is that when a family writes the obit, there are things they quite rightfully don't want to remember. Obviously LaToya Jackson and Harry Reid are among the names Gordon's family wants to forget. Reid and Jackson probably would like to forget his name as well. But one wonders how they are portrayed in his book.

Jane Ann Morrison's column appears Monday, Thursday and Saturday. E-mail her at jane@reviewjournal.com or call 383-0275.