Just down the road, in Crystal, the owner of the three houses of prostitution bought the town an ambulance. Across the state in Ely, when a city councilman tried to shut down the only brothel, he was voted out of office. A remnant of the old West, it is not only tolerated, but often embraced.
His plan could forever change the friendly relationship brothels have with their hometowns, and some fear, might even threaten their existence. The brothels are not supposed to be out in front. Lee, a laid-back man in his 60s who smokes skinny Capri cigarettes, envisions a glitzy resort with an hole golf course, casino and steakhouse.
He points to the acres of emptiness and muses about palm trees, horseback-riding, tennis courts and a beauty salon for the prostitutes. Construction on the golf course is scheduled for next year; a casino is in the early stages of planning. Though the idea of legalized brothels may seem repugnant to outsiders, these age-old businesses have been a part of many rural communities in Nevada for years.
Brothels in Nevada can be traced to the early s, when women made their way to mining camps. In other states, law enforcement shut them down, says Nevada historian Guy Rocha, who works as state archivist. In much the same way that Nevada was the first in the nation to legalize gambling, the state was now pioneering something else.
Other counties followed, but not Las Vegas. Today, the brothels are generally viewed as good neighbors--members of the Chamber of Commerce and donors to charity. They operate mostly in the shadows of small-town life, often tucked away in trailer houses off highways or on the outskirts of towns.
