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Thread: The Lux Rooms

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    Default The Lux Rooms

    I was looking on the internet today for some information involving Wallace, Idaho, and I found a story from the Seattle PI that really stirred some memories. If you grew up in Spokane and environs, you might remember a sort of mythical place in nearby Wallace, known simply as The Lux Rooms:
    ONCE-WILD WALLACE QUIETS DOWN-LAST RED LIGHT ON I-90 IS REMOVED
    By Bill Richards P-I Reporter
    Monday, September 16, 1991
    Section: Living, Page: D1

    For years this hard-edged little mining town deep in Idaho's Panhandle boasted two of the West's most famous red lights.

    One hung in the window of the Luxette, a local brothel. The house, along with more than a dozen sister establishments here, catered to generations of miners who trooped into town looking for pleasure, while the law looked the other way.

    Wallace's other famous red light hung over the intersection of Seventh and Bank streets - the only traffic light along the entire 3,081-mile stretch of Interstate 90 between Boston and Seattle.

    Each day, thousands of gear-grinding truckers, tourists, and other I-90 travelers throttled down to 35 mph and crept into Wallace. There they'd sit, tapping the steering wheel in exasperation, waiting for the light to change.

    No more.

    A slump in the mines and worries about AIDS hit the brothels hard. Wallace's red light district shrank through the '80s as, one by one, the houses folded. The last bordello, the ``U and I Rooms," closed last September.

    Wallace buried its other red light Saturday. The interment, complete with mock coffin and horse-drawn hearse, marked the opening of a new viaduct, a mud-colored structure that carries the freeway past the town on a cantilevered, five-story-high S-curve.

    With the snip of a ceremonial ribbon, I-90 became the country's longest uninterrupted highway last week, and Wallace, its pesky traffic light suddenly obsolete, gave up its 21-year fight to stop the interstate.

    Now, Wallace is banking on its famous red lights to save it from drowsy oblivion.

    Over the weekend the town threw a three-day ``Last Stoplight" bash. Residents sold T-shirts touting I-90's new unbroken transcontinental status, peddled pancakes and quilts to tourists and conducted a ``residential boulevard stroll" (a walk around the town's newly empty streets.)

    ``We wanted people to come and spend money and remember our stoplight," said Mayor Maurice Pellissier.

    Wallace's 57-year-old mayor, ``Moe" to his constituents, was busy over the weekend putting an optimistic spin on the town's newfound emptiness.

    ``Look at that," marveled the mayor as a single car - an elderly Plymouth - chugged through downtown. ``You can cross the street now."

    But it is Wallace's bawdy, red-light past that the town hopes will be its future economic salvation. It has slapped signs up at either end of the new I-90 bypass touting the freeway's former meandering path here as a new ``Historical Route."

    ``This used to be a pretty wild place," said the mayor. ``People ought to be interested in seeing that, don't you think?"

    Perhaps. But with the last bordello only a year gone, Wallace's historical coattails are uncomfortably short. Local madams, for example, helped buy the scoreboard for the high school football team. They also pitched in to help with youth baseball uniforms and to outfit the high school band.

    Until 1976 the Gyros, one of Wallace's leading civic clubs, held its annual Christmas banquet at a two-story downtown brothel called the Lux Rooms.

    ``There would be 30 or 40 guys up there. The madam would buy the booze and the girls would take the night off and serve dinner," said the mayor. The brothel was listed on the city tax rolls as a ``female boarding house."

    Further complicating matters is a federal grand jury looking into allegations that Wallace and surrounding Shoshone County are rife with corruption, gambling and prostitution.

    IN JUNE nearly 150 FBI agents swarmed into the county, seizing enough documents to fill a small fleet of U-Haul vans.

    Last week, while Mayor Pellissier and Gov. Cecil Andrus cut the ribbon opening the new I-90 bypass, a bevy of local businessmen and law enforcement agents trekked to Boise to answer the federal panel's questions.

    None of this appears to faze Mayor Pellissier. The mayor cheerfully acknowledges that brothels operated here into the mid-1980s without much disturbance from local authorities.

    But he dismisses those transgressions as history.

    ``WE'VE CHANGED," Pellissier said. ``We want people to come off the interstate to see where the whorehouses used to operate here - not where they're operating now."

    It is not the first time Wallace has turned to its bordellos for help.

    In 1970, when state highway engineers routing I-90 through the northern Rockies arrived at the edge of town with plans to flatten the business district, locals filed an application to put Wallace on the National Register of Historic Places as a prime example of an early Western mining town.

    ``The red light district was definitely part of that," said Merle Wells, a historian with the Idaho Historical Society who helped draw up the application.

    Wells said the federal historians were intrigued by the idea of putting a working red light district on the list of the nation's most sacred places.

    ``The National Register people said, `We haven't got much of that registered,"' Wells said. ``They thought it was priceless."
    When I was a teenager in Spokane in the late '50's, teenage boys were given to lying about their sexual conquests. I've wondered since that time if that pattern of lies about sexual prowess by young men was just a phenomenon of the era, of if it still happens today and is part of some sort of insecurity demonstrated by some boys, nervous about their manhood. It was an unfortunate fact of the late '50's that a young girl might find her reputation besmirched by lies. It never happened to me, so far as I know, which left me somewhat miffed that I apparently wasn't deemed "babiliscous" enough to be worthy of garnering some sort of notch on some pimply-faced boy's fictionalized ... well, I better leave it at that .... I can't think of a word to finish that doesn't bring up unfortunate images.

    (On the other hand, I consoled myself at the time, it might just be that my character was so obviously beyond reproach that some low-life, lying teenage jerk wouldn't dare suggest any such immoral behavior. "Yeah, that's the ticket! Who'd believe them?")

    Anyway, teenage boys in Spokane in the late '50's used to brag about membership in the "87-Mile Club," a reference to the distance between Spokane and Wallace, Idaho. You've got to know that for every 50 young men who might have claimed to earned membership in that club, there might have been one who actually did.

    Years later, the reputation of the Lux Rooms persisted. I worked in the early '80s for a large Spokane law firm, and one of the partners had grown up in Wallace and had known Delores, the Madam, personally. (I don't mean "known" in the biblical sense, only that he knew she was not some mythical figure.

    He assured the other lawyers in the firm that the Lux Rooms were, at that time, in the early '80's, still alive and well. To prove his point, one time when the lawyers were traveling by bus on I-90 en route to their annual retreat at Whitefish, he ordered the bus driver off the freeway and into Wallace, directing him to pull the bus up in front of the Lux Rooms. As the group of tall young lawyers trooped upstairs, one of the young ladies exclaimed, "Oh! Y'all are so tall! You some sort of traveling basketball team or something?"

    One Sunday soon, my sis and I are going to need to make that drive from Spokane to Wallace and spend some time in the town, including a visit to the Bordello Museum, described in this website about historic Wallace.

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    A schoolmate used to tell this story, swearing it was true. His older brother came home after a date and proudly told the father that he was going to marry his girlfriend (they were both 18 and HS Seniors) because they were madly in love. After some poignant questions by the father, the son stood firm in his wishes. Finally the father opened his wallet, took out a $20 bill gave it to the son and handed him the car keys with instructions to go to Wallace and seek out one of the sporting houses. He said when you return, we'll continue this conversation. Of course this ended all talk of marriage, or so the story goes.
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    Further tales from Wallace: In the early '80's, I worked for a large Spokane law firm, and one of the partners had grown up in Wallace and had known many of the local madams personally, including the famous Delores, of the Lux Rooms. (By "known" I'm not meaning the biblical sense, but the ordinary sense of a boy growing up in the town and greeting the ladies on the street.)

    He assured the other lawyers that the bordello business at that time was still alive and well in Wallace, and to prove his point, one time when a bus load of the lawyers were traveling en route to Whitefish for their annual retreat, he directed the driver to pull off I-90 and park the bus in front of the Lux Rooms. The group of tall young lawyers duly trooped off the bus and up the stairs to the reception area, where they were greeted by Delores, who said, "What do we have here? Some kind of travelling basketball team?"

    Ah, that was an adventuresome young group of lawyers at the time! What fun they were! they were there, mind you, only to window shop in wide-eyed wonder, pillars of the legal community as they were.

    there's another story I've heard tell. I'm not saying whether it's known to me to be true or not. Just sayin': Might be a complete fabrication, and if called on to testify, I'd plead the fifth and/or claim it all came to me in one of those wonderful, elaborate dreams some of us have from time to time.

    From the Seattle PI story above:
    Further complicating matters is a federal grand jury looking into allegations that Wallace and surrounding Shoshone County are rife with corruption, gambling and prostitution.

    IN JUNE nearly 150 FBI agents swarmed into the county, seizing enough documents to fill a small fleet of U-Haul vans.
    This was not the first time the Feds targeted the working girls in northern Idaho. One time, the story goes, they used the old Al-Capone strategy and sicked the IRS on them - tax evasion, they claimed. Chief focus was Delores, Madam of the Lux Rooms. Every year, despite reporting only modest income from her "boarding house," she was seen driving a new Cadillac.

    The IRS came in and tried to "net-worth" her, a pretty well-known practice at the time of attempting to trap suspected tax evaders by coming in and saying, "See here: You've got all this "stuff," including those fancy Cadillacs you've been driving, yet you're reporting little or no income. We're going to assume that the cost of your "stuff" was paid from unreported income. Prove otherwise."

    "Oh, no!" says Delores, the story goes. "Those cars were just a gift from a dear friend! I'm shocked you would think otherwise!"

    What kind of a dear friend would make such an extravagant gift? Well, the story continues, the dear friend was a local mining magnate, who was a wonderful, moral gentleman, but he was unfortunately overtaken from time to time by demon rum. Sober most times and a very astute business man most days, periodically, he would go on a bender and disappear, resurfacing days and days later, calling home painfully recovering from a killer hangoverr, in Paris or London or some other exotic location.

    the mining man's company kept a gentleman on retainer for the exclusive purpose of jumping on a plane on very short notice to fly to whatever destination our friend found himself eventually waking up in and bring him back home. He would be driven directly to his summer home on a nearby lake (Hayden? Coeur d'Alene? The detail I was told escapes me now), and Delores would dispatch a couple of the girls to the hideaway, there to minister to the sadder but temporarily wiser mining man and nurse him back to health.

    Out of gratitude for these acts of kindness, the annual gift of a new Cadillac was assured.

    A gift, no quid pro quo? Or compensation for services rendered? Each time the matter neared trial, the generous mining man would fall off the wagon and off he'd go on an extended toot. IRS finally gave it up, as I recall the story; and when Delores marched into the Spokane office of the lawyer representing her in the matter, she paid the whole tab in silver dollars. I can't even imagine what it would have been like, toting that purse around, stuffed with untraceable silver dollars.

    True? A myth? Mining man's gone, Delores is gone, lawyer's not talking ...

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    Reno might have visited the Lux Rooms. . .was it located at the top of a fairly long flight of stairs ?

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    Quote Originally Posted by RenoZag View Post
    Reno might have visited the Lux Rooms. . .was it located at the top of a fairly long flight of stairs ?
    Oh! Too good to be true! Let the confessions begin!

    My impression is that you are correct. I seem to recall that one of the lawyers I worked for mentioning he had to lower his head because the ceiling was low, and all these young lawyers trooped up the stairs single file in a narrow flight of stairs.

    Not having been there myself, I can't attest to the accuracy of that.

    So how many houses of ill-repute have you visited, after all, that they start to blur together?
    Last edited by ZagNative; 08-03-2008 at 05:42 PM.

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    Two. Wallace, ID and Nurnburg, Germany.

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    During the 1974-75 school year, the Big Sky wrestling tournament was held at MSU in Bozeman. GU's team traveled to the tournament in two vans; on the way back to Spokane, one of the vans stopped for a visit at either the Lux or the Luxette. The story soon spread around campus...and thus to an end came Gonzaga's wrestling program.
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    Wow. No sense of humor at all for the Jebbies, eh?

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    Default motto at the lux

    The Customer always comes first.

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    Default Field Trip

    In the fall of 1971 a large contingent of the male students from Catherine-Monica Dormitory made a weekend trip to the establishment(s) in question. I did not join them because I was (a) broke, and (b) head over heels for a freshman girl at GU (now known as Mrs. 75). The stories they had to tell were hilarious and the souvenir match books (hand signed "Thanks, Bambi", "Kitten" and the rest) were highly prized around the dorms for the rest of the school year.

    As they say, a GU education is priceless!
    Last edited by 75Zag; 08-04-2008 at 08:06 PM.
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    Default Wow

    This thread adds another bullet point to a long list of reasons I am convinced I showed up at GU about two decades late.

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    Quote Originally Posted by 229SintoZag View Post
    This thread adds another bullet point to a long list of reasons I am convinced I showed up at GU about two decades late.
    I'm convinced that nothing much of interest has happened in Spokane (other than your odd serial rapist or serial killer) since ... Oh, maybe 1990. Up until then, in retrospect, it was a richly textured place, IMO, with many more opportunities for adventure, not necessarily of the illicit type, but off the beaten path.

    I'm wondering how many here found their way to Sam's Pit, the after-hours bar on Third ... I consider it one of life's great missed opportunities that I never did, being at the time married and a wife and the mother of a couple of young boys, so I would never have risked disappointing by being busted in a raid at The Pit.

    Spokane novelist Jess Walter references Sam's in his book, Citizen Vince, here exerpted in the Washington Post:
    The year is 1980, and the novel's hero, Vince Camden, has been given a chance at reinvention courtesy of a witness-protection program. We first become acquainted with Vince as the 36-year-old death-obsessed manager of a donut shop called "Donut Make You Hungry" in Spokane, Wash. Even early on, however, there are strong indications that there's more to the likable Vince than powdered sugar and sprinkles. He seems to be involved in some kind of credit-card scam, and he likes to hang out at an after-hours barbecue joint called Sam's Pit, frequented by the usual lowlife mélange of pimps, drunks and hookers. And then there's that sadistic hit man who's recently arrived in town, out to whack Vince. Things just don't add up.

    Turns out that Vince is a mobbed-up New Yorker who was whisked out west courtesy of the feds three years ago in exchange for some crucial information. As his current credit-card shenanigans demonstrate, Vince's sojourns inside the prison system haven't scared him straight; neither has he been redeemed by the love of a sort-of-good woman, a waif named Beth who's one of the hookers at Sam's.
    I wonder if Vince, like me, really only heard about Sam's and never visited there, because I did know reputable but adventuresome sorts would visit Sam's pit after everything else had closed late night and they weren't ready to cash in their chips.

    It was a moment and time in Spokane history, in an otherwise extremely conservative town, that I am sad to see shuttered. I think it was tolerated as long as it was because of the relationship Sam had with the police, in that I think Sam was cooperative, and the police could keep a finger on the pulse of parts of society that might have been closed to them otherwise.

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    In the 80's and early 90's, the two centers of vice in Spokane were Sam's Pit and Al Morse's cafe on W. Main (near Huppin's).

    Notable Spokane trust funder and neer do well Cip Paulsen was a regular at both.

    Native touches on an ironic truism--depending on when you went in either location, you might find prominent business leaders, civic leaders, attorneys, judges and even clergy. Speaking of clergy, it was during this time a certain bishop of the Diocese of Spokane was well-known for his wee hours of the morning forays on E. Sprague.

    The second tier of vice was a cluster of 3 watering holes on W. Sprague: Flaherty's, Ankeny's and Albertini's, collectively and euphemistically known as the "Herpes Triangle." All three of these spots were more "legit" than Sam's or Al Morse's, but you could still find your share of trouble at any of the three. The Spokane police used to run vice stings in Ankeny's/Ridpath using college women in the criminal justice program at EWU as "bait."

    Honorable mention in the Spokane vice hall of fame would go to the Red Lion barbecue.

    Al's motel on Division should receive the lifetime achievement award.

    Then there's the Rainbow Tavern...the topless joint with the ugliest girls in the world. After watching some of them dance, you wanted to pay them to put their clothes back on.
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    Quote Originally Posted by Angelo Roncalli View Post
    Honorable mention in the Spokane vice hall of fame would go to the Red Lion barbecue.
    Didn't a certain former GU coach hang out there?
    Quote Originally Posted by Angelo Roncalli View Post
    Al's motel on Division should receive the lifetime achievement award.

    Then there's the Rainbow Tavern...the topless joint with the ugliest girls in the world. After watching some of them dance, you wanted to pay them to put their clothes back on.
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    Red Lion: If you loved the blues, and you lived in spokane in the '80s, you had to go to the Red Lion. To me, it was an absolutely fabulous venue for the blues - tiny, shoulder to shoulder, SRO, featuring folks like Bo Didley, Curtis Salgado, Robert Cray, and others too numerous to mention.

    The Red Lion really was a place where you'd see and sit next to all kinds of folks, a real melting ###. Lawyers, and judges, and drunks, and college kids, and regular folks, and artists, and posers, black, white, rich, poor ...

    And if you went there in the '80's, you had to know Omar, the stuttering bartender, who always had one eye out for a pretty lady and would stop a pour to fly down the bar with his lighter clicked and ready to light a lady's cigarette. Omar, more than anyone who tended bar at the Red Lion made sure unattached ladies felt safe and protected (leaning in at appropriate times to ask confidentially, "Is that guy bothering you?")

    I was never a drug user and never understood the attraction or the culture, so I was oblivious to that aspect of the place. I knew of the reputation for that, but it wasn't a part of the culture I was involved with. I also was naive enough that I wouldn't have recognized a hooker if she walked up and bit me. I certainly never saw any business transacted.

    As far as I was concerned, the day the music died in Spokane really was the day the Red Lion closed.

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    Default A's motel

    I liked the sign that was out front for a long time--"Clean rooms; dirty movies."

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    So, dogtown, you not admitting to ever having seen the inside of the Red Lion Tavern? You aren't one of those pillars of propriety in the community, whether then or now, who was known to bend an elbow for a brewski at the bar on Main and Division?

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    Not did I bend the occasional elbow at the Red Lion, but I vaguely remember having been in Sam's Pit back in my salad days. Very vaguely. I may be hallucinating, though.

    Speaking of Sam's Pit, has anyone read Jess Walter's Citizen Vince? Some of it takes place in Sam's Pit in the 70's. It's a really good read. Walter understands Spokane and does a good job of using it as a setting for the book. I believe he won a national book award of some kind for the book.

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    Obviously, before this thread is through, ZagNative will have written off any chances of running for public office, as she continues to spill the beans about her connections to Spokane's seedy underbelly from the past.

    Angelo, BTW, speaks the absolute truth. No doubt about it. Same town that I knew at the time.

    The Rainow: My only experience with the place was on my birthday, when a group of us decided to celebrate by a stop there. It was pretty much a biker bar by that time. I thought it was a hysterical and campy experience on my once-only visit, especially when Omar the Red Lion bartender, who was in our party, took to the stage for a hilarious impromptu but modest strip, until later, I described the experience to a woman who was a teacher at Grant. Her face clouded and she was not amused, as she replied disapprovingly, "Those girls are the mothers of some of my students ..." she talked about how difficult their lives were ... I felt an inch tall ... Campy? Funny? Not so much any more ...

    Stroebel's: Angelo will likely remember this place, if my hunch is correct. It was an elegant, tiny restaurant/bar across the alley behind the ONB building (now US Bank) where I worked at the time. Absolutely wonderful menu for lunch and dinner, with a tiny, cozy bar in the back, with a wall to wall sofa that ran the lengths of the two walls across to and adjoining the bar, no tables, a must-stop Friday nights after work for some downtown lawyers. A very high-class meat market. there was some kind of a place upstairs ... dancing, music, I don't know what all. Never went up there. I think I thought it was dangerous.

    I remember being there for lunch one day when one of my co-workers from our law firm in the ONB building spotted a guy from Idaho our law firm had been unable to get service of process on for an important lawsuit, and she leaped up from our table and ran to the office to get the complaint and returned to our table with a big grin on her face after duly serving Mr. Idaho guy, who should have had lunch anywhere but Stroebels, where lawyers and their staff enjoyed frequent spendy lunches.

    Flaherty's, Albertini's, Etc. I frequented all these places for lunch and stopped by a handful of times for after-work drinks with friends, but there was something uncomfortable about them, something wrong ... It was almost certainly the drug culture, which I wasn't part of .... And unlike the Red Lion, which really wasn't a meat market, these places were.

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    Quote Originally Posted by ZagNative View Post
    Stroebel's: Angelo will likely remember this place, if my hunch is correct. It was an elegant, tiny restaurant/bar across the alley behind the ONB building (now US Bank) where I worked at the time. Absolutely wonderful menu for lunch and dinner, with a tiny, cozy bar in the back, with a wall to wall sofa that ran the lengths of the two walls across to and adjoining the bar, no tables, a must-stop Friday nights after work for some downtown lawyers. A very high-class meat market. there was some kind of a place upstairs ... dancing, music, I don't know what all. Never went up there. I think I thought it was dangerous.
    Stroebel's...indeed I remember. The site of yours truly's 21st birthday evening, what I can remember of it. Note: some of us think of it as being across the street from First National Bank rather than behind ONB. The locus in quo of perhaps the most expensive date of my life.

    When I was a fledgling associate, one of the partners at the firm at which I worked told me: "unless you're working on something incredibly important, there's no reason to stay in the office past 3 on Friday afternoon." His place of choice was Shenanigan's. Not a bad spot.

    Anyone remember "The Tin Ear"? Spent some great Friday and Saturday nights there in the early '80's. Jim Baker, Jr., led the house band, "Dee and the Dee-Lites." The Tin Ear was the first place I had a muffaletta sandwich. Marty Maaran, who was a GU law student at the time, often sang Al Jolson era songs with the band. "When I'm Paddlin' Madeline home..."
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    Quote Originally Posted by Angelo Roncalli View Post
    Anyone remember "The Tin Ear"? Spent some great Friday and Saturday nights there in the early '80's. Jim Baker, Jr., led the house band, "Dee and the Dee-Lites." The Tin Ear was the first place I had a muffaletta sandwich. Marty Maaran, who was a GU law student at the time, often sang Al Jolson era songs with the band. "When I'm Paddlin' Madeline home..."
    You know, I remember knowing of the Tin Ear, but I didn't ever go there, which sounds now like a steenkin' shame. Sounds wonderful ...

    And while we're at it ...

    The Regis. Another great eating establishment, north behind The Onion and run by Larry Brown. I think Pat Jeppson was responsible for the decor of both establishments.

    Last time I visited there, it was The Italian Kitchen. I should have checked to see if the bar was wonderful as ever, cozy, tiny, wonderful mahogany. It was run by Marty in those days, now the owner of Luigi's on Main (at least Marty owned Luigi's the last time I checked.)

    The Regis was the site of the annual Christmas lunch of "our corner," at the law firm where I worked at the time, meaning the little clacque of us who worked in close proximity. We would arrive at noon and placed our food orders at 3:00. A very good time was had by all, up until the year folks got wise about potential liability issues involved at allowing (encouraging) employees to get swacked at the firm's expense and loaded up and set loose on the road to negotiate the drive home.

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    "Reno might have visited the Lux Rooms. . .was it located at the top of a fairly long flight of stairs ?"
    Not to be confused with the Luxette Rooms which were at the top of a steep dimly lit stairway. Hondo was not there as a customer but rather on a historical tour of downtown Wallace. Very interesting history to that part of Idaho which produced more than a few great Gonzaga alums and SJs

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    Quote Originally Posted by ZagNative View Post
    The Regis. Another great eating establishment, north behind The Onion and run by Larry Brown. I think Pat Jeppson was responsible for the decor of both establishments.

    Last time I visited there, it was The Italian Kitchen. I should have checked to see if the bar was wonderful as ever, cozy, tiny, wonderful mahogany. It was run by Marty in those days, now the owner of Luigi's on Main (at least Marty owned Luigi's the last time I checked.)
    The bar is still wonderfully intact, separated by a wall from the rest of the restaurant. A great venue with underrated italian, especially being two blocks from Luigi's. MedZag may or may not have taken several successful dates there during his time at GU. Not to mention a fake bachelor party, staged when we were 19, where we may or may not have been served endless wine unquestioned due to our golden alibi.
    Training Grounds: Rambling Thoughts of a Surgical Resident
    You can tell whether a man is clever by his answers. You can tell whether a man is wise by his questions. -Siddhartha Gautama

  24. #24
    Join Date
    Feb 2007
    Posts
    73

    Smile Lux

    Just picked up on this. Couple fo Wallace guys (like the Butte Rats) have great stories. We have Wallace stories. One of them, maybe, might even have involved (been) a GU trustee. Other (maybe) might have been a GU TAX law prof. Great place to grow up. Delores paid for the football uniforms, ran adds in the high school football programs, was a wonderful lady. Might be some truth in the rest of the stories. Particulary the one about the guy that came up there being Pretty tall. I defended one of the madams in a tax case. Got a tax deduction for depreciation on the beds.

  25. #25
    Join Date
    Feb 2007
    Location
    Down the street and around the corner
    Posts
    43,716

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    Quote Originally Posted by hondo46 View Post
    "Reno might have visited the Lux Rooms. . .was it located at the top of a fairly long flight of stairs ?"
    Not to be confused with the Luxette Rooms which were at the top of a steep dimly lit stairway. Hondo was not there as a customer but rather on a historical tour of downtown Wallace. Very interesting history to that part of Idaho which produced more than a few great Gonzaga alums and SJs
    Hondo's description seems dead-on. . .1978 was a long time ago. . .and the memory bank has more details of what happened beyond the threshold versus the architectural details. . .

    Last edited by RenoZag; 01-12-2009 at 07:39 PM.

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