Whose attic would the stuff be in? Perhaps a more relevant question would be, “Whose grandparents’ attic would the stuff be in?”
A recent visitor to the Optic made a highly unusual request, and he may have been 50 years late in making it. David Lindblom, a filmmaker living in New York, showed up with Judee Williams, a local movie and history buff, to ask for anything that might help him with some compendious research he’s doing on Romaine Fielding, an actor, director and producer who filmed what was then the most expensive movie ever made in America, “The Golden God,” in 1913.
The $50,000 invested in the movie was a fortune at the time. And the film was produced right here in Las Vegas. Remember that aviation itself was in its infancy, the Wright brothers’ first flight having taken place just 10 years earlier. And yet, planes flew and bombs exploded in the futuristic spectacular that required importing 5,000 extras.
In a pamphlet, “No Star for Romaine,” Lindblom writes that at the time, Fielding was voted most popular filmmaker in America. The movie dealt with an American labor problems four decades later, in the 1950s.
The Las Vegas Optic of Nov. 18, 1913, describes some of the filming this way:
“Church Street, on the West side, usually quiet and almost deserted, was transferred into the battling place of humanity against organized wealth. . . . Church Street rises gradually from the North school building to a point directly in front of the residence of Rev. Father Paul Gilberton. The street is narrow and flanked on either side by houses. The roofs of these buildings were covered with men and boys armed with hand grenades, while the thoroughfare itself was filled with men brandishing bludgeons and other primitive weapons.”
The late Lynn Perrigo, a Highlands professor, historian and prolific writer, describes Fielding’s work as “a five-reel thriller.” Perrigo wrote that “An airplane flown by a stunt aviator, R.C. McMillen, provided the climactic action in spectacular battle scenes in the air.”
So momentous was the filming that a landing strip was created “northeast of the Plaza,” and the plane was the first to fly over Las Vegas. Perrigo continues, “A crowd estimated at 10,000 jammed the town and the slopes of the Creston, as local schools were dismissed and spectators came from other cities on excursion trains.” The entire complement of National Guardsmen in Company “H” was activated as extras. Most of the imported visitors stayed at the local YMCA, the Plaza Hotel and a place called El Porvenir Hotel.
Lindblom and Williams asked whether there’s any chance old photos, diary entries, clippings and other items remain that would substantiate the information which Lindblom is attempting to gather, for the possible writing of a PBS documentary. Lindblom, who has worked as an editor for director-producer Martin Scorcese, said he believes there must be collections of old photos — aside from those examined in area museums — that could provide new perspectives to what was for its time an epic.
A sad footnote is that the film was destroyed by fire before being released. If anyone has any information about the event, they may contact Lindblom at matterinmotion@mindspring.com.
How many people marry their high school sweetheart 49 years later?
The 1953 edition of the Las Vegas High School yearbook shows a photo of a couple holding hands as they walk down the stairs at the school.
The slim cowboy is tilting his head slightly toward his sweetheart as she looks back at him.
Their classmates voted them the cutest couple.
But after graduation, they went their separate ways, got married to others, raised families and — much later — they became widowed.
Brought back to Las Vegas to help care for her elderly mother, the widow became reacquainted with the widower, and, as they say, the rest is history.
They married in 2002. I took a look-alike photo of them, both on the same step, holding hands, head cocked, etc., almost a half century later.
At the wedding, family members distributed programs showing the juxtaposed “before” and “during” photos of Joe and Dorothy.
That was four years ago. The groom, my brother-in-law Jose C. Maestas, passed away Sunday.
I’ve known him for more than 50 years and considered him a fount of local lore. One time I asked my cunado, “What’s the name of your primo who used to live in Santa Rosa (or La Manga, or La Fragua, or La Cueva, or La Liendre or Las Tusas, or Las Dispensas)?” I used the word “primo” to represent any acquaintance, but in Joe’s case, many of the people I inquired about actually were his primos, his being quite popular.
His connections with a nursing home, the schools, athletics and — especially — tennis, made him extremely well-known.
He touched many lives.
Cunado, thanks for having come our way.