When monsters come calling, it’s a relief to rely on a tough guy

Where have all the tough guys gone? Las Vegas used to be filled to the brim with "non-mob" men who were tough as nails, afraid of nothing and no one. They worked mostly as casino personnel -- dealers, bartenders, doormen, bellmen -- on the Strip.

My own tough guy, father of my sons, second husband, was Joel Rosenthal. He worked as a dealer, floorman, boxman up and down the Strip for 20 years and was typical of the genre. They were nearly all avid hunters and therefore gun owners and knife collectors.

Joel helped Eddie Probis with bighorn sheep, digging waterholes at their habitats. Everybody knows Eddie, the mechanic and outdoorsman. Most serious hunters become avid land protectors.

Our son Rick was born while we were living in a large, nice complex of two-bedroom apartments running behind Koval between Flamingo and Harmon. I was on leave from "Bottoms Up," and Joel was dealing craps at the Tropicana.

One afternoon I had just put Ricky, who was maybe 3 or 4 months old, down for his nap when I heard a loud banging noise out our front door. I looked out the window and found a really large man -- 6-foot-3, I'd guess -- down the sidewalk banging on my neighbor's front door. He continued until she reluctantly came to the door. His shoulders were over a yard wide. Huge!

He yelled, "Your rent is late and it's been late before, and you are evicted." She softly said something, and he continued to yell threats. She closed the door, and I could hear children crying.

Next, he went on down the sidewalk to another neighbor's door, and the scenario started again. I backed away from my window so as not to embarrass the neighbors. The neighbor was sobbing as she closed the door. I went to check on Ricky and was shocked and terrified to hear the now-familiar bang-bang-bang on OUR front door. I knew our rent was always paid on time, so I answered the door. The monster yelled, "Your rent is late." I said, "Please be quiet. My baby is sleeping." He yelled, "Well, isn't that just too bad? I want the rent."

I said, "If you'll look at our records I'm sure you'll see we're always paid up." "Well, yes," he said, "but yesterday was the first of the month and it isn't paid yet." I said, "Well, I'm sure he'll be there any minute." He said, "Tell him I'm waiting and he should come right away."

Joel walked in the door almost immediately. Shaking, I related the events of the day. Joel immediately went to the phone, called the office and calmly said, "I understand you want the rent. No, I won't come over there. Why don't you come over here?" He hung up and said, "Betty, go get your baby. Sit right there at the table with him." He went into his office (the other bedroom.) Rick was still in a bassinet in our bedroom. In a very few minutes came the loud knock on the door. I had warmed a bottle and was giving it to Rick.

As Joel walked to answer, I realized he was holding his 9-millimeter in his right hand. He opened the door, the monster took two steps over the threshold, then stopped dead still. He said, pointedly looking at the gun, "Is that really necessary?"

Joel said, "Don't be afraid. We're just going to have a nice talk. Sit right over here." Joel sat down next to him and said, "First, maybe you'd like to apologize to my wife. You frightened her." The monster shrank about two feet and said to me, "I'm very sorry, Mrs. Rosenthal." Joel reached for his wallet on the table, pulled out a large wad of hundred-dollar bills, counted out six or seven and handed them to the now-docile monster. They chatted a few minutes before Joel stood and, with his free hand, escorted the monster to the front door.

I was so proud of Joel I grinned ear to ear, kissed him and said, "You were wonderful, dear." He said, "Yes, but now I've made an enemy and will have to look out for him. He'll do everything he can to get me. Don't ever again open the door to a stranger for any reason."

Betty Bunch is a former dancer. Today, she works with the national Elderhostel Association. Contact her at bettybunch100@gmail.com.