GEOFF SCHUMACHER:
North Las Vegas can't escape Sin City
North Las Vegas will never be Boulder City.
Yet that seems to be what Mayor Michael Montandon and other city leaders want: a community untarnished by its proximity to Sin City.
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The city's latest endeavor is a series of ballot questions asking voters if they favor having strip clubs, adult theaters and adult bookstores in North Las Vegas. The city doesn't have very many adult-oriented establishments now, but the two biggest ones, the Palomino Club and Satin Saddle, happen to stand prominently on Las Vegas Boulevard North, one of the primary gateways into the community.
The ballot questions are hardly the first evidence of a concerted effort to morally purify the city. For several years, the City Council has resisted approving liquor licenses for bars and restaurants. Only grudgingly has the council approved a few. And last year, officials floated a proposal to approve only one liquor license per year. This idea was squelched by an outcry from the city's business community.
Meantime, the City Council doesn't seem to care for casinos either. It fought past proposals for neighborhood casinos and has vowed to prevent the Olympia Group from having a hotel-casino in its master-planned community.
It's understandable that municipal leaders want to improve the city's image. After all, North Las Vegas has a long history of being on the proverbial wrong side of the tracks.
The late journalist Hunter S. Thompson, in his most famous book, "Fear and Loathing in Las Vegas," included a few lines of description about North Las Vegas:
"North Las Vegas is where you go when you've f---ed up once too often on the Strip, and when you're not even welcome in the cut-rate downtown places. ... This is Nevada's answer to East St. Louis -- a slum and a graveyard, last stop before permanent exile to Ely or Winnemucca."
Thompson wrote those hyperbolic words in the early 1970s, when "Northtown" had a horrible reputation.
And in fact, in those days North Las Vegas was not exactly the most desirable place to live. It was dominated by low-rent neighborhoods and a high crime rate. In addition, the municipal government, lacking the tax base of its sister city to the south, did a poor job of providing public services. Ethical conflicts and corruption allegations haunted its elected leaders. Some of the reputation was a product of racism: North Las Vegas had a large black population at that time, so many white people steered clear.
North Las Vegas developed this negative image primarily in the 1960s, but the community was known from its inception as a place that did not cater to conventional notions of proper living.
In the 1870s, the first ranch in what is now North Las Vegas was owned by Conrad Kiel, a rough character who catered to horse thieves, gunslingers and other ne'er-do-wells who stopped here while traversing the Old Spanish Trail. Kiel's ranch was the setting for the 1884 murder of Archibald Stewart, husband of Helen Stewart, known as the first lady of Las Vegas.
The founder of the first North Las Vegas town site was a Utah rancher named Thomas Williams. In 1917, Williams bought 140 acres for $8 per acre and subdivided 79 lots -- outside the city limits of Las Vegas.
Williams founded the town on libertarian principles -- freedom from government taxes and regulations. And during Prohibition, Williams' town prospered as a safe haven for bootleggers harassed in Las Vegas.
When North Las Vegas was incorporated in 1946 -- 60 years ago -- its first mayor was Horace Tucker, a businessman and notorious mean drunk who lasted only a few months in the job. Tucker later was implicated in two separate murders.
So, clearly, North Las Vegas' colorful history contrasts sharply with that of Boulder City, the little town built to house workers during Hoover Dam's construction. Because the federal government ran Boulder City for many years, gambling and liquor were outlawed. (Dam workers traveled to Las Vegas to have fun.) While the feds are out of the picture today, Boulder City has maintained its ban on casinos, though it does permit two bars to operate.
Meantime, North Las Vegas has made great progress in improving its image over the past 15 years. By attracting planned communities such as Eldorado and Aliante, and other high-quality neighborhoods north of Cheyenne Avenue, the city has joined the valley's growth boom as a nearly equal partner. This summer, the city reached the 200,000 population mark.
Old biases still linger, especially among longtime residents. But if North Las Vegas wants to eliminate them, prudish ordinances are not the answer. Officials would be wiser to devote more resources to revitalizing the city's mature neighborhoods, which still suffer from the poor planning and inattentions of past administrations. Ambitious redevelopment plans have been in the works for years, but only minimal progress has been made.
In addition, the city could do a better job of improving its roads -- for example, Ann Road, an increasingly vital artery, has been torn up for a decade. And the city is still well behind the local curve in providing parks, ball fields, libraries and community centers for its citizens.
Finally, the city has little to gain from attacking adult entertainment -- and potentially a lot to lose. If the city were to, say, try to shut down the Palomino Club, it could lose badly in court on First Amendment grounds.
North Las Vegas will never be Boulder City -- or Salt Lake City, for that matter. And it needn't try to be.
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.