When the Stardust opened July 2, 1958, its 1,032 rooms earned it the title of largest hotel in Las Vegas. (Technically, with its low-slung design, the Stardust was more of a motel than a hotel, but the distinction hardly matters.)

It also boasted the community's largest casino and largest swimming pool.

"If these attractions were not enough, standing before the casino entrance was the largest electric sign in the world: 216 feet long and 37 feet high, the sign contained over six miles of wiring, 7,100 feet of neon tubing and 11,000 lamps," UNLV history professor Eugene Moehring writes in his seminal "Resort City in the Sunbelt: Las Vegas 1930-2000."

In addition, the Stardust was equipped with state-of-the-art entertainment facilities, capable of producing the special effects-laden "Lido de Paris" stage show.

This all added up to an iconic new fixture on the Las Vegas Strip.

But the Stardust had yet another distinction: It catered to middle America.

"The Stardust would point the way to the city's future for years to come by embracing 'mass' as well as 'class,' " writes Heidi Knapp Rinella in the new Stephens Press book "The Stardust of Yesterday: Reflections on a Las Vegas Legend." "The Sands or Desert Inn could have the high rollers. The Stardust would deal in volume."

In 1963, visitors could get a nice room there for a tidy $8.

It was this appeal to cash-conscious visitors that, for me at least, is the Stardust's most important contribution to Las Vegas. (Its organized crime dramas are another matter.) But when the resort closes its doors Wednesday, its populist philosophy may die with it.

It's no secret: The Strip has been going upscale for years. Most of the new resorts are designed to attract higher-income tourists. The luxury suites, restaurants, shops, shows, nightclubs -- most, if not all, are, from the perspective of regular people, expensive. Who ever heard of a $30 buffet in Omaha? Or a $150 show ticket?

The reasons this is happening are fairly basic: Upper-income customers spend more money and are therefore more desirable, and the huge price tags to build modern resorts demand a huge return on that investment.

In other words, the old Stardust formula of dealing in volume won't secure billion-dollar commitments from Wall Street.

That's too bad, because I worry that the Strip is turning its back on a large stratum of customers who once constituted its foundation. Are these folks migrating to Fremont Street (not so much), or to the off-Strip and neighborhood casinos (possibly), or are they giving up on Las Vegas entirely and settling for the closest Indian casino?

There are still some places on the Strip where Average Joes can find a bargain: Circus Circus, New Frontier, Imperial Palace, Excalibur. But many other affordable places are long gone. The Westward Ho is history, the Frontier is destined for demolition, the IP's days are numbered, and speculation is rampant that MGM Mirage will one day do something completely different with Circus Circus.

It might not be long before Middle America is locked out of the Strip.

Of course, who am I to question the wisdom of resort executives? These guys clearly know what they're doing. Las Vegas is one of the great economic success stories of the 20th century, and it continues to grow and prosper in the 21st. Management gurus tell us that successful companies must be willing to change, change, change. Las Vegas' constant state of reinvention exemplifies this philosophy.

Rob Stillwell, vice president of corporate communications for Boyd Gaming, points out one of the pitfalls of operating a "middle market" Strip resort: The customer gets a cheap room at the Stardust, say, but ends up spending most of her time and money at the fancier properties.

"Your occupancy rate is great but not everything else," Stillwell says.

So, the upscaling of the Strip makes all the business sense in the world. Still, I'm bothered to see Las Vegas Boulevard South ignoring an entire segment of society.

Once the Stardust is torn down early next year, a new resort project will emerge from the rubble. Boyd has announced plans to invest $4 billion in Echelon Place, a sprawling "casino community" that will rival MGM Mirage's vaunted CityCenter project in scope.

And make no mistake: Echelon Place will market to upscale customers. It will go after the same folks who now frequent Wynn Las Vegas, Bellagio and The Venetian.

And that customer base will have a distinctly international flavor. It's a lot easier for people in other parts of the world to travel to Las Vegas these days. China, for example, is gradually loosening its grip on visas, which opens a huge new market for the Strip.

David Schwartz, director of UNLV's Center for Gaming Research and the author of "Roll the Bones: The History of Gambling," counters my concerns by pointing out that, historically, Las Vegas has always tried to accommodate everybody.

"There's going to be somebody who will cater to that niche," he says of Ted and Betty from Dubuque. "It's too lucrative to pass up."

That sounds reasonable, but it's unclear right now who it's going to be.

With ballooning land prices and construction costs, who will invest a billion dollars in the next Stardust or Circus Circus?

Harrah's Entertainment, the world's largest casino company, achieved that lofty status by focusing on middle-class customers. But the company has been criticized lately for doing so, and has been urged by industry experts to jump on the luxury bandwagon.

I hope that doesn't happen, and that Harrah's and other companies maintain their commitment to satisfying the modest needs and desires of regular people. If not, eventually we will see a distinct class system in Las Vegas: big-spenders on the Strip, middle-classers at the off-Strip and neighborhood casinos, and lower-income folks relegated to downtown, Pahrump and Laughlin.

If you ask me, that's not the Vegas way.

Geoff Schumacher (gschumacher@ reviewjournal.com) is Stephens Media's director of community publications. He is the author of "Sun, Sin & Suburbia: An Essential History of Modern Las Vegas." His column appears Sunday.