LETTER: An homage to the Tropicana

When I first arrived in Las Vegas, Rainbow Boulevard was not paved and cowboys were riding horses down Jones Boulevard. On day one, I walked into the Tropicana and completed an application and continued on down the Strip until I received an immediate job offer. After a month or so, I was called with an offer from the Aladdin. A few months later I was offered an even better opportunity at the Tropicana. That is the day I found my home.

Having been born and raised in New York City, I knew that every city had its own personality, and I learned that Las Vegas had its own. It was predicated on the powers of attraction of people. However, those who built the hotels and casinos understood it was imperative that their employees were appreciated and happy. They knew the city depended on great customer service. Everyone was not going to be a big winner but, if they felt like winners, they would return.

As employees, we were all winners. Ever since it was announced that the Tropicana was going to be sold and imploded many social media groups popped up. Every one expressed shock, disbelief and the final resignation of sadness. However, no one can take away the community, the friendships, the experiences, the stories, the history that we have all lived at the corner of Las Vegas Boulevard South and Tropicana Avenue.

Las Vegas has developed at warp speed and owners of those original hotels have transitioned to larger corporations. They do not know the essence of the past like we do. No one can implode our friendships, our knowledge, our history.

Let the city always remember its personality and never forget the Tropicana, the Tiffany of the Strip. After 30 years as an employee, I can tell you it was so called because of the incredible employees. A building does not create a community, only people do. Adieu, Tropicana. Adieu to the magicians, lounge groups, celebrities. Adieu to Les Folies Bergere. The iconic hotel-casino which will forever be the genuine article and the foundation of a city that never sleeps.