Prince of the Palace
On a recent Thursday afternoon, the bell desk at Caesars Palace is virtually clear of guests, a sight uncommon on what is typically a major day for checking in and out.
Today is different, though, because the hotel is full of convention guests and the turnover is slight. Bellman Clyde "Rabbit" Watkins stands at the end of the counter, leaning on his hands and telling stories to his co-workers.
After nearly 41 years at Caesars, Rabbit has a story or three for just about anything, which has made him well-known among employees and guests alike. So well-known that some call him the "Legendary Bellman."
"Everybody knows Rabbit," says bell captain Terry Smith. "And if they don’t, they will come to know him."
Stories are his calling card; he has more than the newspaper, Smith says.
There’s the time he had words in Caesars’ lobby with pool great Minnesota Fats. Or the time he got his nickname as a teenager or left home to hustle pool at 14. Even how he came to work at Caesars is a story.
It goes like this: His uncle, who had been sending him money from Detroit, knew the manager of Caesars. One day in 1966, when Rabbit was shooting dice at the No. 4 craps table, the manager walked up and gave him a job.
"I guess my uncle got tired of giving me money," Rabbit says, laughing. "I didn’t want no job but that was the greatest thing that ever happened to me."
His first job with the casino was carrying money to the tables, but he has been everything from a runner to a dealer. In 1969, he went to work at the bell desk and from then on, "it was like I never had a job," Rabbit says.
Gregarious, affable and charming, the 69-year-old grandfather is matter of fact in telling his life story.
Born in Alabama, Rabbit moved to Las Vegas with his family at the age of 2. Although segregation was in effect, he says he didn’t have problems with racism. He credits attending integrated schools for that.
He lived downtown as a boy and attended the old Las Vegas High School. He’s a self-described hustler and a gambler; at 11, he learned to play pool in a bar behind his house, using his skill to wager money against other players. At 14, Rabbit says he left home to become a pool hustler in Los Angeles, coming back four months later when his father bought him a car in exchange for finishing school. He still plays pool about once a week at places such as Crystal Palace, Cue Club and anywhere that has a pool table.
At 15, he was known as a fast runner. During a track race, someone from the crowd said, "No one can catch that rabbit." The nickname followed him through his high school basketball career, a boxing stint and then into the rest of his life. It has become so much a part of his identity that his Caesars nametag simply reads "Rabbit."
Smith has heard some of the stories for 20 years and, at times, he is skeptical.
"Some of them are far-fetched. You don’t know whether to believe them or not. He tells them so much and so often and they’re always the same, so they must be true," Smith says.
Rabbit may have been a hustler, Smith says, but he has always been a family man first. A father of seven, he and his second wife, Barbara, lost their 23-year-old son last year when he was shot by police during a traffic stop in Tennessee. The shooting is under investigation. Now, he and Barbara are raising their three grandchildren ages 3, 6 and 8.
Everyone knew that, more than anything, Rabbit loves his children, Smith says. So when his son was killed, "he took it very hard. He’s just now becoming the old Rabbit again," Smith says.
Smith has come to know Rabbit well over the years, describing him as a generous and principled man. Part of Rabbit’s legacy on the bell desk is his penchant for helping people get jobs and keep jobs at Caesars.
One thing Smith noticed about Rabbit early on: He likes to help people with children. When Smith first started at the hotel, he was on the extra board, meaning he worked only when someone was on vacation or out sick. Rabbit would sometimes stay home so Smith could pick up a shift.
"If I had to pattern myself after anyone, it would be him," says Smith, who is bell captain thanks to Rabbit. Instead of taking the job himself, Rabbit recommended Smith for the job.
"It confined him too much," Smith says. "He likes to be out there with the people and the freedom to move around."
Rabbit planned for this to be his last year at Caesars, but he will continue working for his grandchildren.
"I want to make sure they’re taken care of," he says.
Few people at Caesars know that’s the reason he stays on; most think it’s because Caesars is as much Rabbit’s home as anywhere else. It will be a sad day, Smith says, whenever Rabbit retires.
"This is his soul," Smith says.
