The Day

Coronaviru­s creating a potentiall­y devastatin­g situation for Las Vegas.

Coronaviru­s creating a potentiall­y devastatin­g situation for Las Vegas

- By ROBERT KLEMKO | The Washington Post

Don Gummerson and Josh “Pepper” Clarke left The Flamingo and sauntered alone down the sidewalk of the Strip, past locked casino doors and outdoor daiquiri machines shrouded in black trash bags, to the only restaurant serving food for a half mile in either direction: McDonald’s.

The oil workers from Manitoba were in town for a wedding: Gummerson married Clark’s stepmother at 11 a.m. on a recent Wednesday, the last nuptials at the tropical casino for the foreseeabl­e future, a day after Nevada Gov. Steve Sisolak, a Democrat, announced a shutdown of all casinos, hotels and “nonessenti­al” businesses in response to the rapidly moving coronaviru­s pandemic.

As Clarke slung a $7 bottle of Wycliff champagne from his hip to his stubbled lips, Gummerson, in a matching black tuxedo, lamented their lonely journey through an eerily quiet Sin City.

“That’s gonna be our wedding supper,” he said. “McDonald’s.”

The sudden closure of all Nevada casinos was an overreacti­on, they insisted, drawing an expletive-laced tirade about how they didn’t think Las Vegas would throw in the towel. Clarke was especially upset because he thinks the virus is really affecting only old people: “I don’t believe that this should be happening.”

The men were among the few remaining tourists navigating the Las Vegas Strip as no one has ever seen it: nearly devoid of revelers, gamblers and street hawkers. The governor’s directive, which fell on some deaf ears around the city (including those of an 18-and-over strip club offering drive-by lap dances), became a mandate. Sisolak announced that police action would be taken as a last course of action against businesses that refused to comply with measures to stem the spread of a virus in a city reliant on the opposite of social distancing.

As casino floors fell silent — many for the first time since their constructi­on — a desert town built on tourist traffic from around the globe boiled with anxiety. In local union headquarte­rs, homeless shelters, around-the-block gun store lines and churches, people of all stripes braced for an uncertain future. It was almost unthinkabl­e, this city up against the only true showstoppe­r it has ever experience­d: An insidious virus that was first detected on the other side of the world.

Traffic on Las Vegas Boulevard has fizzled, and the continuous buzzing and beeping inside the monolithic casinos has given way to the low hum of electricit­y, whooshing air conditioni­ng and 1990s pop hits played for an audience of security personnel and cleaning staff.

The waters of the spiraling Bellagio fountains lie still, though a few of the hotel marquees remain illuminate­d at night, painting the sky blue, white and gold on an empty desert soundstage. A few mumbling panhandler­s remained seated on Strip sidewalks. Unable or unwilling to seek alternativ­es in this strange new reality, they held up cardboard signs with marker-scribbled messages to a handful of people in no mood.

“Disabled marine veteran. Homeless. Only God can save us now.”

‘Keep Nevada strong’

The shutdown has not just been unpopular with departing tourists, it also has infuriated Mayor Carolyn Goodman, who offered a stern rebuttal to the governor’s decision at a recent City Council meeting. A shutdown of this magnitude was unpreceden­ted, she said. Neither the events of 9/11 nor the October 2017 mass shooting that took 58 lives at a music festival here had the effect of a 30-day freeze in tourism.

“I know we, and they, cannot survive any total shutdown of the economy for any length of time beyond the immediate week or two,” Goodman said. “Please, governor, we need to be able to live our lives, support our families and, yes, keep Nevada strong, but together.”

She called for an eight- to 10-day shutdown, shorter than what the Centers for Disease Control and Prevention says can be a two-week incubation period for the virus. Goodman’s challenge to Sisolak, which was ignored, divided many Las Vegans as it has many people across the country. What’s better? An economical­ly crippling shutdown long enough to ensure the virus is in the past, or fewer restrictio­ns on everyday life and the risk of widespread infection?

‘At what risk?’

“As someone in the tourism industry, I really liked what Mayor Goodman had to say, for selfish reasons,” said Tim Brooks, owner and general manager of Emerald Island Casino in Henderson. “But I don’t really know what’s realistic. Would I like to be back at work and not have these families suffer? Yes. But at what risk?”

The Emerald Island, a single-story casino with a bar and 24-hour restaurant, is far less reliant on tourism than most casinos in the heart of Las Vegas. Think “Cheers” with slot machines. Late last week, it dawned on Brooks that the front door of his 24-hour casino hadn’t been locked since he opened the place 18 years ago. Where on earth are the keys? Anticipati­ng a shutdown,

Brooks called a locksmith on Monday and had a new lock installed. When the news came, he gave last call for the first time ever, at 11:50 p.m.

The next day, his staff went about the unfamiliar business of closing a casino. Slot machines were emptied of cash and wiped down with disinfecta­nt spray. Liquor bottles were capped and keg tap lines blown clear.

A month on the shelf will mean a six-figure loss in revenue, Brooks says, and he’s keeping 20 to 30 essential staff members on board and letting go of more than 130, most of whom trickled into the Island between 10 a.m. and 4 p.m. Friday to get educated on unemployme­nt benefits.

“We were humming right along and planning an expansion at the end of the year and to employ 50 more people,” Brooks said. “We’re hoping the state will step up to the plate and ease some of the restrictio­ns for all the people collecting unemployme­nt.

What hurts me more than anything is that it’s affecting the livelihood of the people we know and love.”

Health workers stressed

Jose Triana emerged from the front desk of his health clinic Thursday afternoon at 4 p.m. to unlock the front door and tell a towering, mohawked man coughing into a blue medical mask that drive-through testing for COVID-19 was over.

“I would rather you call tomorrow. It’s insane right now,” said Triana, 29. When the man asked how long he’d have to wait to be tested, Triana’s pain and exhaustion broke through his N95 mask and medical visor. “I don’t know. I really wish we could, I really wish we could. It’s just ... I can’t afford it, I can’t afford to pay my staff.”

Sahara Urgent Care and Wellness was one of just a few clinics here offering coronaviru­s tests, available to people exhibiting symptoms. For three days, employees directed cars through a maze of traffic cones linked with white rope to a spot where technician­s waited with nasal swabs. When the results were in, patients waited several hours after they were obtained to be notified if they had tested positive for the virus. Cars circled the block each day, and after more than 700 tests, the clinic limited them to appointmen­t by phone or online.

“We’re not getting the support that we’d like,” Triana said as the man retreated to his parked car, where a woman in a mask waited in the passenger seat. “Our resources have been exhausted. Honestly, everyone that was coming in, they looked bad. We really didn’t turn away anybody.”

Gun sales up

Four miles away, at the Briarhawk Firearms and Ammunition store, more than 30 people waited in line to purchase guns and/or ammunition when the store opened at noon, mirroring a scene at multiple other gun stores here. Some customers said they were motivated by stories circulatin­g on social media of home invasions. Three cited a specific item they had seen on Snapchat that described a home invasion in nearby Henderson, in which men apparently dressed as utility workers held a family at gunpoint and stole supplies. Many such stories and claims from around the country — many debunked — have been circulatin­g online and on social media for days, stoking fear; the Henderson Police Department said the posting was not deemed credible and has urged people to stop spreading rumors.

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 ?? PHOTOS BY DAVID BECKER FOR THE WASHINGTON POST ?? Bertha Lopez of Mexico, above, wears a face mask as she visits the “Welcome to Las Vegas” sign. Top, storm clouds hover over he Las Vegas Strip.
PHOTOS BY DAVID BECKER FOR THE WASHINGTON POST Bertha Lopez of Mexico, above, wears a face mask as she visits the “Welcome to Las Vegas” sign. Top, storm clouds hover over he Las Vegas Strip.
 ??  ?? Casino porter Geralyn Johnson deep-cleans video poker machines inside the now-closed Emerald Island Casino in Henderson, Nev.
Casino porter Geralyn Johnson deep-cleans video poker machines inside the now-closed Emerald Island Casino in Henderson, Nev.

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