
No. 01 · LaSalle
Kelly & Cawley's
The country casino at the heart of Little Reno
Three-story brick, glazed tan facade, a neon sign that lit the block in every direction. The first floor was the cover — a long bar, dining tables, a baseball pool, slot machines, and a racing-wire that clattered out results live. Up the stairway to the second floor was where the heavy money played: an ornate round counter bar, a huge roulette wheel, fifty more slots, poker rooms, and a bandstand where Donald O'Connor and George Gobel worked the nights. Steak dinners cost fifty cents, chicken twenty-five — Cawley's slot revenue covered the giveaway. He had a quiet policy with ruined housewives: he refunded their husband's losses without argument, on the condition the family never came back. State's Attorney Harland Warren timed his raid for the Saturday afternoon before Washington's Birthday, 1953, so the banks would close and Cawley couldn't post bond. They came down the stairs with two craps tables, the roulette wheel, the bingo barrel, racing forms, and chips. The phone in the cashier cage rang the entire time. Warren picked it up himself, smiled, and told the callers there'd be no bets today.
Gambling · Vice

