Las Vegas Loses Another Landmark
From foot-long hot dogs to cheap drinks the Westward Ho leaves a legacy behind
by Scott Aruti
It was a glorious time. Dealers knew your name. Service was personal. You may have even rubbed elbows with a celebrity in the casino lounge. And while some may find this difficult to believe, the megaresort as it is known today was once difficult, if not impossible, to find.
In this bygone era, Las Vegas didn’t have the sex-symbol reputation it so proudly wears today—at least not as intensely exhibited as it is now. At the height of this “classic Vegas,” hoopla came the fruition of the Westward Ho, an idyllic little gaming and social spot nestled right between the Circus-Circus and Stardust Hotel casinos, unintentionally becoming a Vegas landmark in its own right.
The “Ho,” as it was so affectionately known by loyal patrons, closed its doors for good at 5 p.m. on November 17 of last year to the disappointment of many. It was indeed the passing of a Las Vegas legend—the end of a “hot-dog-and-beer” tradition and another historic piece of Old Vegas trampled away to make room for one more glass-and-steel high rise.
“Cheap drinks, cheap rooms and a Midwestern tradition is what made Westward Ho popular for so many years here,” says Eric Roldan, a bartender for two years at the Ho’s Margarita Bar who, to his dismay, must now seek employment elsewhere. “What do I mean by Midwestern tradition? The Ho has consistently drawn folks to its doors—for some particular reason—from the Midwestern region of the country in an almost traditional, ceremonial-type fashion. These people are the fans of the place that are most heartbroken by its closing. As for the employees of the Westward Ho, it is those who have been working here for a good thirty-some-odd years that are finding it most difficult to move on. My immediate plan is to circulate on the local bar circuit until something ‘better’ comes along for me; in Vegas, holiday hiring is very slow, so I don’t expect to move on to something substantial until the Christmas and New Year’s frenzy passes.”
Although for the most part it drew an older clientele than the newer megaresorts on the Strip, the Westward Ho had for years seduced the younger crowds after dark with live music and an extremely low-priced bar menu. Indeed, it was labeled one of the cheapest places to drink in the city. Roldan explained that after 10 p.m., the Westward Ho’s crowd became increasingly younger and around 3 a.m., the place would explode into a fun atmosphere from all the club-hoppers piling out of the Strip’s nightspots.
Just as commonly known for its low-priced bar selections and ultra-affordable, one-level motel-like lodging was the Westward Ho’s “Mega Dog” foot-long hot dog, served in the deli. The $1.49 Oscar Meyer behemoth had become unintentionally famous among tourists and Vegas locals alike; as one cocktail waitress, Kristen, explained with a giggle, “It’s been really hysterical to watch the elderly female patrons posing with these huge hot dogs in…well…varied uncompromising positions, if you know what I mean, for photographs!”
Kristen went on to explain how most of the cocktail waitress staff at the Westward Ho had been working there for a good four or five years at the time of the closing, with no one really having less years at the Ho than that. “A lot of the waitress staff are going to be moving on to different positions now, with many moving out of the state or even back home from what I understand,” she says.
Susan, a single mother of six and another Westward Ho veteran cocktail waitress, had a rather amusing experience to share during her years with the casino. “I can distinctly remember one elderly female patron throwing a piece of candy on my tray after I brought her a drink, in place of a tip. I sarcastically remarked ‘Gee…thanks…that should feed my six kids’ to which she responded ‘You have six kids!? Sorry dear! Here you go,’ and proceeded to throw more pieces of candy on the tray. It’s times like that which will stand out in my mind when I think of my years with the Westward Ho.”
The casino played host to three watering holes—the Lounge Bar, Oasis and aforementioned Margarita Bar, while popular table games, slot machines and video poker units were aplenty and kept the Ho’s vibe going all night. Over the past several years, renovations to the legendary spot included three makeovers to the Margarita Bar and the opening of an upstairs banquet hall facility. Just before the closing, patrons from the California and Arizona regions of the country seemed to be mixing with the locals and Midwestern traditionalists, as noted by Roldan.
“The Westward Ho was never a fancy casino by any stretch, but its patrons were always treated very well,” he says. “The player with $20 in his hand was treated just as well here as the player holding $1,000 chips in a megaresort casino. And,” he stressed again, “it is going to be the employees that have been with the place for so long that this closing is going to be most difficult for.
“On a more humorous note,” Roldan quips, “The Westward’s name always sparked an interesting conversation amongst guests and tourists—someone would ask ‘Oh, you’re staying at the Ho?’ and this would be cause for cynical laughter and adult references and discussions. It was just another small example of what made this place unique in a market so saturated with larger, more influential competition.”
And so the Westward Ho legacy in the shifting sands of the southern Nevada desert was swept away on November 17, 2005—swept away to the throbbing beat of a conga line, comprised of employees and patrons, who went out the front doors at the end of closing day. It may indeed be the era of exploding volcanoes and pirate ship battles complementing the sexy, youth-invigorated nightlife inside the new resorts of Sin City, but it’s legends like the Westward Ho that will simply never be forgotten.
Las Vegas Loses Another Landmark.
