Jack Sheehan

I might have heard Parry Thomas's name in one of the many times I've been in Las Vegas, but I can't be sure of that. So when I picked up "The Quiet Kingmaker" - I was a blank slate - no preconceived notions, no idea what kind of story author Jack Sheehan had to tell. I was hoping for some behind the scenes scoops on the making of this fascinating town...and I got 'em.

This book is the book that people who watch the Las Vegas channel, I mean, The Travel Channel, need to read. There are amazing stories in here of very famous names and many not so famous names, coming together to create this unlikely city in the desert; and behind an incredible number of those deals, was banker and investor Parry Thomas.

Thomas started coming to Las Vegas in 1952, and moved there with his family soon after. He was an incredibly hard working visionary who saw the potential of Las Vegas in ways that few others did. With hard work, a brilliant mind and a wonderful way with people, he made changes in Las Vegas (and Nevada) that helped make the city what it is today.

He is very clear that the only reasons he's telling these stories now are because most of the people involved are dead, and for the city's historical record. Thomas mentions several times that he prized confidentiality for his clients above all else, and one can still sense reticence behind his words. We're getting more of the story than has ever been told, but probably not all of it. Which is fine...some secrets need to stay in those dark, smoke filled back rooms. No one wants all of Vegas in the light...

Thomas, from all the accounts given by the names in this book such as Steve and Elaine Wynn, Bill Boyd and Michael Milken (to name only a few), was a wonderful, trusting and honest man. He cared deeply about doing the right thing by all parties of a deal, and his handshake meant more than a signed contract. And yet - there are unspoken stories in this book that remind the reader that we are talking about doing business in Las Vegas...which means something different than doing business anywhere else.

Thomas tells this story about a restaurateur to whom he refused a loan: "...the guy eventually got so mad he took out newspaper ads criticizing me and he passed out flyers all through my neighborhood and downtown criticizing me and saying that I was a bad banker and a bad person. I had to figure out a way to shut him up, and so I called this little guy who worked at the Sands. His name was Aaron Weisberg. He was a wonderful fellow. I knew that Aaron had a lot of clout with some important tough guys, so I asked Aaron if he could do anything about this guy who was threatening me. All the hassling just stopped cold the next day."

Thomas also had quite a few dealings with Howard Hughes, which make for fascinating reading. "...In sum, that's exactly how the richest man in America was allowed to stay in a hotel owned by the biggest gamblers in America, by the most outstanding lawyer in Washington agreeing to write a brief for the most notorious labor leader in the country. Now there's a four-way parlay for you."

The author, Sheehan, uses a very deft touch bringing Thomas's voice to the forefront of all of the stories. He then brings in many, many of the other players in the deals to corroborate or further clarify details. The timeline of the stories flow well, taking the reader from the early fifties in Vegas to modern day. (Although Parry Thomas now lives in Hailey, Idaho, "just one state removed from Nevada, (but) if a person were to measure the distance by electrical wattage and human energy, this farming community of 6,000 full time residents is more than a million miles away from the blinding glow of Las Vegas at night.")

Parry Thomas seems to be a humble man, not looking for the spotlight even given his success and the influence he's had over one of the major cities in America. (Which is probably why I, and hundreds of thousands of the visitors to Vegas have never heard his name.) But there is one accomplishment of his in this book that bears the distinct stamp of pride, and it might be the biggest part of what Vegas is today. "I'm the guy that got the Mob out of Las Vegas, with getting the legislation passed to have corporate gaming and putting in the safeguards such as anybody with over five percent interest in the place having to stand for licensing. It didn't say you had to be licensed, just that you had to stand for it and be investigated for it and so on. And the thing that got the Mob out quicker than anything else was that passing that law, because before that the corporations couldn't come in. If I'm insistent about taking the credit for that, it's because I did it all by myself and it took years of hard work and negotiating with the Legislature to make it happen."

This is a great book, one that tells previously unknown stories, one that explains the behind the scenes details of the making of Las Vegas, but stays true to the Vegas we all imagine it was. It has the best of what is Vegas: the money, the names, the danger and the excitement.

"One thing I'd learned about guys like Moe is that you never lie or evade anything. I said, "Moe, you're absolutely right. I did figure it out for your best interests. I'm going to have Howard Hughes buy this hotel. You're trying to sell it and I'm going to get you a fair price." Moe sat there for several long minutes without saying a word. He then stood up and turned around and pointed his finger in my chest and said, "You better!" And he stormed off."

That's power. That's the story of a quiet kingmaker.… (mais)

A quote from Ambassador Vernon Weaver: “It’s foolish to ponder whether our class was the best, but I can tell you that as a class, we did all right for ourselves.”

While this might not be the understatement of the century – it certainly ranks in the top 100. “Class of ‘47” by Jack Sheehan, details the lives of but a few of the notables of the members of the United States Naval Academy (Annapolis) of 1947. Former President Jimmy Carter, Admiral William Crowe, former CIA director Stansfield Turner, Medal of Honor Winner James Stockdale and billionaire investment banker Jackson Stephens were all members of this class that “did all right” – and their lives are detailed with great respect in this book by Sheehan.

As I started this book, I was the most interested to read about Jimmy Carter. Though I was too young while he was president to know too much about him – I’ve since developed a great respect for his intelligence, warmth and desire to correct the disastrous path our country is on. I recently read “Our Endangered Values” by Carter and same like (and agree with) this great man even more. Reading about his life in this book was very interesting…and I was impressed yet again with his sense of humility. While Carter has achieved things in his life that most people don’t even dream of, he accepts these honors only as incentives to do more, tools he can use to further the goal of peace.

The chapter on Jimmy Carter ends with a very touching personal note from the author. “As the interview ends, the writer looks around the room for his son J.P., who had been exploring bookshelves and peering out the window at some baby ducks. Not seeing the boy right away, he is concerned that he might have drifted into another part of the building, but then he notices President Carter smiling and nodding towards the back of the room. The boy has taken off his shoes and is sleeping soundly on a long couch…’No matter how hard you campaign, you just can’t win every vote,’ says Jimmy Carter, with that unmistakable smile that lifted him all the way from Plains, Georgia, to the most powerful position on earth.”

As much as I enjoyed that chapter, I was absolutely engrossed in the chapter about Admiral James Stockdale. By the time he agreed to be Ross Perot’s running mate in 1992 (and the details on this were fascinating), I was old enough to be paying attention. Seems like I only had a small portion of the story as I watched his debate performance at that time, and as I read about this man’s life and all he endured, my face burned with shame for what I had thought (and said). Now that I know more of his story, I am in awe of James Stockdale.

As Sheehan visits the Stockdale home, he writes, “From the outside, this charming abode is not unlike many others lining the street on this tony little island off the San Diego coast. From the inside, well, that’s a different story entirely – a riveting story, in fact, of love and pain, of heroism and struggle, of separation and the wedge it creates, of life and near death. The uplifting parts of the story – the love and heroism and life at its loudest pitch – are on display throughout the house.”

So many things about Stockdale kept me riveted, but it was his story about surviving seven years in a Vietnamese prisoner of war camp, and his incredible bravery and leadership there, that was the most compelling. Not only does the chapter include harrowing details of what he endured, it also looks at the struggles his wife and children went through at home as his wife and children waited for his return. (The facts that the government did not wish his wife to talk about her missing husband, and refused to give her the help she needed and didn’t give the Stockdales the combat pay they deserved sounds eerily familiar.)

One anecdote brought tears to my eyes. “One morning Sybil (Stockdale’s wife) was approached by Stan as she was doing the laundry. The little boy took her arm and, staring at her with the clear blue eyes of his father, said, “Mom, I’m so sorry about Dad.” With her arms full of sheets and towels, Sybil could only hug her boy and try to comfort him. It was moments like these that she had to call on every fiber of strength she had to keep from crumbling.”

The details of what Stockdale endured were, of course, far worse. (Which again, were all the more real as I read them, given current events.) Beatings, bondage, starvation, deprivation…for seven years. “Stockdale came to have nicknames for all the guards. There was Pigeye, Mickey Mouse, Rabbit and Cat, and each exhibited his own individual brand on inhumanity and cruelty.”

Torture would be followed by “hours of anguish and guilt that his resolve had weakened.” Stockdale was a leader in the camp, using Morse code to communicate with other prisoners, helping them remain strong and not give up, not letting other men feel guilty for yielding under unbearable pain.

Somehow – after an experience like this – this man was able to come home and resume a normal, no exceptional life. Such strength of will leaves me in awe. Part of his Medal of Honor citation reads: “Stockdale…deliberately inflicted a near-mortal wound to his person in order to convince his captors of his willingness to give up his life rather than capitulate. He was subsequently discovered and revived by the North Vietnamese who, convinced of his indomitable spirit, abated in their employment of excessive harassment and torture all the Prisoners of War.”

And yet – because of actions (or lack thereof) of others James Stockdale had only hoped to help, here is what most of the country is left with as a memory of this remarkable man. (A quote from his son), “Here was a guy who had dedicated his whole life to high-minded ethical endeavors and suffered brutally and come out with his dignity intact, only to have him caricatured on Saturday Night Live [after the VP debate] as a buffoon.”

Again? My face burns with shame.

There are so many amazing stories from these amazing men. That one graduating class at one school (albeit a more than impressive one) produced men of this character and achievement is truly remarkable.

And the quote from Weaver about “doing all right for themselves”? I will simply counter with a quote (though one used out of context) from another alumni of this class, Admiral Bill Crowe (who became the highest ranking military officer in the country).

“That’s what you call a classic understatement.”… (mais)