Thursday, May 08, 2003
Copyright © Las Vegas Mercury

Backstory: Frank made history

By Michael Green

Next week, Las Vegas turns 98, technically. On May 15, 1905, the railroad owned by Sen. William Clark and the Union Pacific auctioned off the old Las Vegas townsite, now the heart of downtown. Granted, others lived here before, but this marks the origins of Las Vegas as we know it.

If you already knew this, chances are it was through the efforts of Frank Wright. This birthday will be different. Frank won't be here to join the celebration--and to say that instead of celebrating, we ought to be saving the history associated with it.

Frank died on April 25, a little under two months shy of his 65th birthday. He suffered from cancer for more than a year--about as long as he was retired from the job that made him such an integral part of Las Vegas: curator at the Nevada State Museum and Historical Society.

That job meant Frank took calls from around the world and down the block, all asking questions about Las Vegas history. If he had no answer, the question probably wasn't worth asking. If you watched a documentary, read a book or a newspaper article, heard a radio program anything about Las Vegas, Frank had something to do with it. If not, it probably was inaccurate.

Frank's influence went beyond that. If you heard "Nevada Yesterdays" on KNPR, Frank wrote them (he was working on a collection of them when he died, and they will see print; they are too good not to). If you studied Nevada history in school, you may have read one of the volumes Frank wrote. Frank showed up on numerous television shows--newscasts and documentaries--in part because when he explained the history to the producer or reporter, his warmth and ability as a storyteller were too great not to use to full advantage.

Frank prided himself on getting it right and helping others to do so. The latter goal led him to immerse himself in the community. He served on the Las Vegas Historic Preservation Commission, the board of the Neon Museum and the Las Vegas Springs Preserve--just about anything having to do with our history.

Nor was Frank a soloist. The image of the historian is of someone buried amid dusty stacks and notecards. Frank fit that, but he also was the exact opposite of it. He was, in particular, one of a dynamic duo with his beloved Dorothy, another longtime toiler in the historical vineyards. He also was gregarious, fun to sip a drink with and opinionated about nearly everything. I say that from personal experience, and he was far more talented than I am at expressing those opinions without angering everyone within earshot.

I never spent time with Frank without learning and profiting from it. We circled one another for many years as we did research, saying hello and sharing information. We got to know one another much better over the last decade. We occasionally tag-teamed audiences. We were jointly involved in the Review-Journal's magnificent "First 100" project, and served as the fact-checkers. If you want to know who did which articles, check which ones had no corrections. Frank did those.

I realized Frank was a frustrated columnist at heart. He had more important things to do than spout off regularly in print, but that element of his personality struck me when I realized what a crusader he was.

Frank wanted no funeral or services, so his family requested that donations in his memory be made to the Neon Museum (821 Las Vegas Blvd. North, Las Vegas, NV 89101, and get out your checkbook). That was Frank: urging, cajoling, demanding that we preserve our history.

Frank could walk around downtown and tell you the architecture of each building, who lived in what building for how long, and probably the shoe size of each resident. He understood that knowing an area's history fosters a sense of community, that becoming mired in the past is bad but an awareness of that past is the only road to a worthwhile future. That's why he insisted upon the need to preserve the downtown railroad cottages and businesses and the classic houses.

Frank fought to save the Las Vegas Springs when those committed to progress but not to historical memory wanted to pave them. He helped the city with plans for a museum in the old post office and federal building downtown on Stewart Avenue.

So, let me crusade. No fitting way to honor Frank exists. He was too important to our history for mere baubles. But the museum where he worked for two decades will move to the Las Vegas Springs Preserve for the Las Vegas centennial in 2005. A part of the museum should be named in his honor.

A more fitting honor would be this. Mayor Oscar Goodman had a good idea when he suggested a mob museum at the downtown building. Frank had a better one. The building is from the 1930s. Let the museum be about the 1930s. The Depression was on, the dam was built, gambling became legal, the New Deal rebuilt Las Vegas, Helldorado was born and, as Frank loved to point out, shrewd casino operators began showing up before Bugsy Siegel even found Las Vegas on a map. Why, maybe those of you with memorabilia from the 1930s could loan or give it to that museum and it could be a community project. The problem is, the guy who would know exactly what the museum needs...was Frank.

The word community mattered deeply to Frank. Toast his memory--he would like that. When you do, think about how to preserve Las Vegas' memory. He would like that even more.

Michael Green is a history professor at the Community College of Southern Nevada.