Chapter 4: From Photo Opportunities to Real Opportunities At the time, the irony was unacknowledged but inescapable: there were the much-publicized Moulin Rouge Agreements in 1960 between black leaders and the influential and image-sensitive white business and gaming community. This ended with a gentlemen''s agreement to improve hiring practices inside the casino industry. By then a green-felt ghost on the edge of the Westside, its six-month "heyday" already blending into Las Vegas legend, the Moulin Rouge provided an ideal backdrop for the photo opportunity the gathering created. Photographs of the meeting, which resulted in the cancellation of a scheduled march by blacks on the Strip -- an act that would surely be bad for business and once again remind the outside world that the Strip''s casino kings were far behind the curve when it came to civil rights -- were widely circulated. The meeting itself cemented the reputations of local black leaders and some vocal whites such as Las Vegas Sun publisher Hank Greenspun as champions of the cause of social equality. Some important strides were being made, and the efforts of those on the ground ought not to be discounted, but the agreement was as symbolic as substantive. It would take more than the agility of the Las Vegas News Bureau to change the ugly course of racial history in Southern Nevada. The so-called Moulin Rouge Agreement would make big headlines, but generate only small gains for blacks on the Strip.

Without dedicated representation in local or state government, they were relegated to taking to the streets and making threats of insurrection in order to get the attention of the press and business bosses. "The people who came out here from Fordyce and Tallulah where I came from just came here for jobs in the magnesium plant, and some came out a little bit earlier to work on Boulder Dam and were unsuccessful finding a job," Neal said. "People came out here and were confronted with prejudice. With the exception of voting, they had no real rights no matter what they agreed to at the Moulin Rouge. They were able to vote, but the public accommodations were not open to them." Born of the desperation that accompanies high unemployment, poor living conditions, and the lack of a voice in the seats of political power, the rhetoric of the NAACP and Westside clergy was destined to increase in volume. Leaders such as Dr. James McMillan, Dr.

Charles West, attorney Charles Kellar, and radio and television personality Bob Bailey were quoted often. But Kellar and McMillan especially were sometimes characterized in the media more in terms of their militancy than their advocacy. In the wake of the Moulin Rouge Agreement, the real fight for equal treatment in the workplace had just begun. Neal followed the developments closely. In his eyes, the pattern of placation over progress was once again repeating itself. Officially, the Nevada Equal Rights Commission (NERC) was created in 1961 out of the Moulin Rouge Agreement to oversee the state''s equal rights and equal opportunity programs, handling employment discrimination complaints relating to race, national origin, color, religion, and sex. It was positioned to receive complaints and attempt to settle them. Failing that, it would then send the complaints on to the applicable state and federal agencies.

Although former Nevada governor Grant Sawyer would be lauded deservedly for his courageous stance in support of civil rights in the Silver State, and he made his personal philosophy on the subject clear as far back as his first State of the State speech, in a candid moment he admitted he was essentially dragged into the position he took. "Even though I was highly motivated to extend civil rights to Nevada''s black citizens, without constant urging from people who were directly involved in the movement I might not have been as committed as I was to advancing the cause," Sawyer said in his oral history, Hang Tough! An Activist in the Governor''s Mansion . "We got as far as we did in such a relatively short period of time due in large measure to help -- not just help, but ''forceful'' help (laughter) -- from members of Nevada''s NAACP, whose leadership kept things moving. Their initiative, energy, and resolve enabled us to pass civil rights legislation before Congress or Jack Kennedy had taken any position on the issue, putting Nevada in the forefront of a social reform issue on which it had long trailed the nation." Sawyer credited Kellar, McMillan, Bailey, West, and Reno political activist Eddie Scott for staying the course. Joe Neal''s friend Kellar was the best-versed in the law and arguably the most courageous of the group of activists who were also trying to manage their own business careers in a society where it was essential to maintain contacts in the white community. Keller was "perhaps the most aggressive member of the group, very impatient and demanding. He certainly kept the Legislature''s attention focused on civil rights, but he could sometimes be abrasive.

" He came about his irritation with the status quo honestly. Born in Barbados, with a law degree from St. John''s University in New York, he moved with his family to Las Vegas in 1959 and fought for acceptance in the legal community. Kellar not only played an integral role in the historic Moulin Rouge meeting, but he battled to desegregate public schools and jousted in court on behalf of blacks wrongly accused of everything from loitering to homicide. Kellar''s undaunted courage -- one cowardly critic fired gunshots into his home -- earned him the reputation as a rabble-rouser, but also the respect of his community. Sawyer''s legacy, meanwhile, was intertwined with his important role on the civil rights issue. In his oral history he took care to praise the Westside leaders. "All were on the same team, working for the same objective," he said.

"Each in his own way was very forceful, but while they were not equals in status and influence, and their efforts sometimes followed divergent paths, these men respected one another. I don''t recall ever looking to one specific guy and thinking, ''This person will be able to dictate their position.''" For his part, Sawyer rose swiftly through the political ranks in the 1950s in a state still shaking off the dust of its frontier heritage. A son of patronage, he was considered one of Nevada powerhouse U.S. Senator Pat McCarran''s "boys," and he became integrally involved in the state''s political machinery as Elko County district attorney. When the time came to challenge two-term incumbent Charles Russell in 1958, Sawyer fought the weight of the Democratic Party machine in the primary, overcame the candidate it had chosen instead of him, and brought it to bear in the general election. He won handily.

But if anyone believed Sawyer might attempt to mimic the anti- Communist zealotry of the late McCarran, they would be sorely disappointed. Sawyer was an unabashed progressive who pushed to regulate the gangster-infested casino racket and pushed for equal rights. He angered conservatives in the state when he signed a proclamation designating "Black History Week" in February 1959 at a time the state''s own racial history left much to be desired. When the opportunity came to press the casino crowd to pay more than lip service to its business and working relationships with blacks, Sawyer was a politically pragmatic progressive. Thanks in large part to the efforts of Democratic assemblywoman Maude Frazier, Sawyer surprised even himself by the watered-down success of the Nevada Equal Rights Commission enabling legislation. He''d been aided in his campaign efforts by grassroots organizing in the black communities in Washoe and Clark Counties, and upon election he was true to his word, adding civil rights to his first State of the State speech. Although it was a truly far-reaching bill, it would die in the state Senate as far too progressive. The weaker version that was eventually signed into law did much to drag Nevada forward into the latter half of the twentieth century.

Frazier was fearless, introducing Assembly Bill 122 and spending endless hours shoring up support. Although Sawyer recognized "there was little sympathy for civil rights, and I had difficulty even finding someone to introduce the bill (on the Senate side)," he had Frazier in the Assembly. She forwarded an admittedly less comprehensive bill during the 1963 session, "which proposed to outlaw discrimination in public employment and forbid all contractors who did business with the state to discriminate on the grounds of race, national origin, religion, sex, whatever. There was some resistance, particularly in the Senate, but the bill eventually passed and I signed it into law in March." Actually enforcing the law, of course, was entirely another matter. Nevada''s skeletal state government had no ability to police recalcitrant businessmen and even outright racists from denying blacks public accommodations in hotels and restaurants. But it could oversee its own contracts. Again, the symbolism outweighed the substance.

On paper, Nevada appeared to have emerged as a progressive state on civil rights. Sawyer was successful in creating the Nevada Equal Rights Commission in 1961, but it provided more theater than protection for blacks. "The commission came after a lot of pressure from the NAACP at the time," Neal recalled. "Its first chairman was Bert Goldwater, a white progressive guy. His selection upset a lot of people, and that''s when Bob Bailey was chosen. Bob was, to put it politely, a safe choice for the state''s bosses." In the end, Neal was of the opinion that the commission produced a lot of reports without curtailing many pract.