Water, the Scotch 80s and the First Mayor of Las Vegas

 

Pete Buol watches water flow like black gold out of an artesian well. 

Las Vegas mayors seem to have always been a colorful group.  Then as now, they were frequently outspoken and seemed to attract controversy. Though Las Vegas was founded in 1905 with the famed land auction it would be six years before the citizens of that small dusty community felt the need for a mayor.  The city of Las Vegas was incorporated in 1911 and with that brought the need for a mayor.

The first mayor was also one of the biggest civic boosters.  Along with "Big Jim" Cashman, Sr and Maxwell Kelch, Las Vegas city boosters tend to have larger than life personalities.  Pete Buol was no exception.  He was the optimistic sort who looked at that dusty railroad town and could see a brighter future ahead.  Not everyone has that knack and Buol appears to have possessed it in spades.   According to his campaign literature "ability doesn't count, knowledge is useless, experience has no worth without the driving force of optimism."   He had grown up in Chicago, the son of a Swiss master chef.  He had an eighth grade education but more importantly, he had ambition.

 

Pete Buol the first mayor of Las Vegas 

He won a lottery at 19 and found himself worth over $100,000.  Unfortunately for Buol, he didn't have the acumen for finances and quickly ran through the money.  He made another small fortune with a food concession at the Chicago's Exposition.  He served over 5,000 people a day, charging $.25 cents a meal.

He came west and spent some time in Hollywood before heading to Nevada.  He had hoped to invest in a mine in Goldfield but, as he later told a reporter, his bankroll was too small in Goldfield to have much of an impact.  He decided to go to Las Vegas.  He arrived by stagecoach just ahead of the railroad and the land auction.

The town was barely a town.  There was the old Kiel Ranch, the Stewart Ranch and a couple of wildcat businessmen, Jim Ladd and John Miller, had some tent hotels.  The only physician in town, Halle Hewetson, operated out of a tent.   Buol decided that real estate might be worth investing in. 

In 1905, at the land auction, Buol had two subdivisions for sale.  Buol's Addition, which was just west of the railyard, shops and Ice Plant and Buol's Sub-division was "just far enough away to be out of the noise and smoke of the shops and engines."

Buol quickly realized that one of the most important elements of selling real estate in this climate was water.  The Railroad had secured the water rights to Big Springs, the large artesian springs,  which fed the creek that ran down to the Stewart Ranch (where the Sawyer Government Building is today).  But Buol noticed that there were other artesian springs bubbling up around the valley.  Less than six months after the land auction, Buol was the manager of the Vegas Artesian Water Syndicate and he was ready to start drilling for water.

Buol was not the only one drilling for water.  Others were drilling for irrigation and crops.  Buol was drilling to enhance housing development.  In 1910, he brought in a large well near 6th and Fremont (near where the El Cortez is today), adjacent to his Buck's Addition. 

The railroad had long resisted supplying water to those outside the original township.  But with Buol's water supply, the area east on Fremont and north (to where the freeway is today) was able to develop into a very residential area. 

Buol and a friend ran for mayor because no one, according to Buol, was interested in the job.  He won by 10 votes.  His salary was $15 a month.  One of his first orders of business was rules for business licenses.    He served for two years, being succeeded by the man who had run against him, his friend Bill Hawkins.  He was then elected to the assembly.

He and his wife built a home at Seventh and Ogden.  According to writer A.D. Hopkins, their house had "walls eight inches thick, adobe inside and brick without, porches on all four sides, and a peaked roof, it was said to be the coolest in summer and warmest in winter of any in town. Its eight rooms were heated with wood fireplaces. "  When Mrs. Buol entertained her lady friends, Buol would serve them gourmet dishes harking back to his gourmet days with his father.

Through his connections, Buol met a Scotsman, Sir John Murray.  Murray had traveled extensively around the United States.  The two men corresponded and Buol traveled overseas to pitch an idea for a new development to the wealthy Scot.  Murray agreed to invest $100,000 in the new development ot be located on the far west side of the train tracks.  Buol returned home a hero to the townsfolk who were worried about the continued growth of the town.

Unfortunately, World War I interfered with Buol's plans.  Once Britian entered the Great War there was a ban on all exported assets.  Buol had to abandon his idea of an agricultural oasis just outside of the little town he loved.  However, the name stayed attached to the development and later become one of the most sought-out addresses for those who could afford it, the Scotch 80s.

Buol continued speculating.  Some of his efforts are now long-forgotten such as the little town of Johnnie or Plantina (near where Sandy Valley is today).  However, he invested in a lime deposit that helped establish the town of Sloan.   He had a borax claim that was said to have netted him $250,000 when he sold it to Francis "Borax" Smith.

In 1925, Buol and his family left the little town that he had done so much to develop and moved to the California Coast.  He continued to pursue his mining claims and was badly injured in a mine cave-in in 1929.  He died ten years later following a stroke.

Though he made a great deal of money during his lifetime, he died relatively poor.  But Pete Buol's legacy lives on in the town that he believed in so fervently, the Scotch 80s are still one of the most sought off addresses in VeryVintageVegas. 

Special thanks to the Las Vegas Review Journal for letting us use these images.

If you are interested in a home in the Scotch 80s, we encourage you to contact the crew at VeryVintageVegas.com 

Living in the Shadow of the Bomb

 

 
Growing up in Las Vegas, it was always there.  As kids we didn't give it much thought. By 1964, the testing was all done underground.  Pres. Kennedy had signed the Limited Test Ban Treaty before his death that banned above-ground atmospheric testing of nuclear weapons.  The Test Site would issue a warning that it was going to be doing underground nuclear testing and we might feel the jolt.  It was alot like experiencing a medium sized earthquake.  The ground would shake and after a few minutes, it would pass. 

When I moved to Los Angeles until the Northridge Earthquake of 1994, earthquakes didn't get my attention much because they were so similar to the Underground Testing I had grown up with. 

The United States Government decided in the late 1940s that it needed a new Test Site.  The Bikini Atoll where they had been testing was too far away and the wind and weather changes made planning difficult.  The Atomic Energy Commission decided to bring the above-ground testing of Atomic Bombs stateside.  It was the Cold War and discussions about the hazards involved with the Testing were whisked aside.

Nevada, specifically Southern Nevada, fit the bill.  Sparsely populated with Nellis Air Force base nearby in Northtown, Frenchman's Flat, located about 60 miles north of Las Vegas was chosen. 

Scientists from around the country were recruited to come to Las Vegas.  Atomic Scientist Al O'Donnell remembered "The Atomic Age is here and you'd be on the ground floor of testing of atomic weapons."  The engineering and scientific companies like E.G.&G came to Las Vegas and brought their staffs with them.  "Millions of dollars came into Las Vegas because these companies wanted a piece of the action. " Al O'Donnell told me in a 2005 interview.

Camp Mecury was set up and soldiers were deployed to the remote base to supply support for the scientists.  The soldiers would be on the front line, digging trenches and then watching the bomb blast from those trenches before being sent out to explore the bomb site after the explosion.  The soldiers were assured that every precaution was taken and that there was no harm in being that close to ground zero.

 

Atomic Soldiers at the Royal Nevada

(courtesy of the Las Vegas News Bureau) 

In Las Vegas, residents were assured that the Atomic Testing was not harmful.  The government encouraged school children to get up in the early morning hours and watch the bomb go off from their front yards.  Young adults like Bud Kennedy and John Ullom would drive out the old Tonopah Highway, pull over on the side of the road and watch the explosions from there.

Las Vegas News Bureau photographers such as the late Don English, would go out to News Nob, located 7 miles from the blast site, where the press from all over the world would be lined up with their cameras and their movie cameras to photograph the explosions.  One time Don overslept.  He knew he wouldn't have time to get out to News Nob before the detonation.  He hurried down to Fremont Street and climbed up on the roof of the Golden Nugget and waited.  There were workmen there installing a glass skylight and they asked him what he was doing.  He told them they would know shortly.  The bomb went off.  As the mushroom cloud rose in the sky, the ground began to shake and the panes of glass broke.  Don didn't lose his concentration and snapped a photo of the mushroom cloud rising with downtown Las Vegas in the foreground.  The photo went out on the wire and became Life Magazine's photo of the week.

 

Don English's famous photo of a nuclear cloud over an American City. 

Donna Andress remembers that "we weren't fearful of it.  We were assured over and over again that there was never going to be a problem."

Don English remembered that "we believed everything the A.E.C. (Atomic Energy Commission) said and we figured we were quite safe.  They did give us precautions, you know,  not to look at it during the blast.  They gave us dark glasses and we would turn away at that close distant.  As soon as you saw the flash, then you could turn around and start shooting."

Emmett Sullivan, who had been born in Las Vegas in the mid-1920s, remembers "It was one of the most beautiful things I ever saw in my life.  As it died down you saw all the colors of the rainbow."

Most remember being jostled out of bed in the wee hours of the morning while it was still dark out.  "It was always early, like 4 or 5:00 in the morning. You could be in your bed and it was like somebody had turned on a light on right in your face.  And then you'd hear the noise and run outside so you could see the mushroom cloud forming." Ken Gragson told me in a 2003 interview.

If the wind was blowing towards Las Vegas, the test would be called off and rescheduled.  It was one of the concessions the A.E.C. had made when it came to Southern Nevada.

With the signing of the Limited Test Ban Treaty, the testing went underground.  While we didn't get jostled out of bed, some of the tests were so explosive that they did get our attention.  One bomb was so big that it knocked out the floor to ceiling display windows at the Woolco in our Charleston Heights neighborhood. 

There were rumors of the bombs being vented afterwards but again the A.E.C. and local officials assured us everything was safe.

Looking back now, it's easy to say that we were naive but back then there was more trust in the government, especially in the 1950s.   

By the 1970s, there were stories coming out of Southern Utah from the small towns downwind of Las Vegas.  People were dying of cancer at a rate higher than normal.  John Fuller wrote a book "The Day We Bombed Utah" which recounted how the story of how the above ground testing had devasted a family of sheep farmers in St. George and the effects of not only cancer but thyroid disease on the small farming communities of Southern Utah.  Fuller also raised the question that perhaps it was filming on location in Moab and other areas for the movie, The Conqueror  (during a particulaly busy summer in 1954 when the Test Site was in full-swing) that led to the deaths of the stars of the movie John Wayne and Susan Hayward along with many of the cast and crew.

My family used to drive to Southern Utah to get fresh fruit and vegetables.  A day trip to St. George or Cedar City was fun.   It gave us a break from the desert climate and landscape.

I think of these things each morning when I take my thyroid medication.  And I wonder how many more who grew up in Las Vegas during those times are taking their thyroid meds as well.

 

Don English at News Nob

 

Imagine having to get out of your trench and head towards that

 

Special thanks to the Family of Don English, Bo Boisvert and the Las Vegas News Bureau for letting use this images.

For more information on the Test Site we encourage everyone to visit the Atomic Testing Museum on E. Flamingo. 

For more personal stories of Las Vegas at that time and growing up with the bomb, we encourage you to buy the DVD: The Story of Classic Las Vegas: An Overview