FBI SEEKS INFO 10 YEARS AFTER CHICAGO MOB BOSS ANTHONY ZIZZO VANISHED

An ABC7 I-Team Investigation

By Chuck Goudie

Wednesday, August 31, 2016

CHICAGO (WLS) -- Chicago crime boss Anthony Zizzo disappeared a decade ago on Wednesday. He is believed to be one of the outfit's last hits.

On August 31, 2006, George W. Bush was president and the Cubs were nearly in last place. And on that day 10 years ago, Zizzo kissed his wife goodbye and left their Westmont townhouse destined for lunch on Rush Street. He had been summoned to meet with some outfit colleagues, but Zizzo never returned. Now AWOL for 10 years, he vanished without a trace.

"Anthony Zizzo has connections to La Cosa Nostra which may have played a part in his disappearance," FBI Special Agent Garrett Croon said.

La Cosa Nostra, which means "this thing of ours" in Italian, is the favored federal lingo for the mob of which Anthony Zizzo was a high-ranking member.

"He was the underboss - traditionally a tough guy's job," said John Binder, author of "The Chicago Outfit."

Binder said Zizzo had left his house here in suburban Westmont and told his wife he had a lunch meeting on Rush Street. His car was found empty near a restaurant in Melrose Park.

Zizzo is said to have a falling out with mob boss Michael "Fat Boy" Sarno concerning illegal video poker machines.

"As they often do, they were going to sit down and smooth this out. But no - that's your death sentence," Binder said.

Investigators consider top hoodlums Joe "The Sledgehammer" Andriacchi and Albie "Falcon" Vena as possible suspects in Zizzo's disappearance, but no one has ever been charged.

Without a body, the FBI reiterates its $10,000 reward for information in the case.

"We need the public's help. Telephone the FBI. Tell us what you know if you were in that area at the time or you were around the rest or you knew Anthony Zizzo. Call us, tell us your information, no matter how small you think it may be," Agent Croon said.

"It's interesting that the FBI itself offered a $10,000 reward for information into the whereabouts or the disappearance of Tony Zizzo," Binder said. "Honestly, they would have seen him as valuable to them dead or alive in one sense or another. Possibly if they thought they could solve the Zizzo murder that would lead to a whole second round of indictments."

Zizzo vanished as the government's Family Secrets mob murder case was shifting into high gear 10 years ago.

A second round of Family Secrets indictments was always expected but never came. It isn't known whether authorities saw Zizzo as a defendant or thought they could turn him as a witness, but after he became unavailable, all the Zizzo options were off the table.

From Scarface to senile: Inside Al Capone's fall from criminal kingpin to syphilis-riddled madman

Capone took over the Chicago mob aged just 26, making $40million a year

But despite evading rival gangsters, he was taken down by syphilis

The sexually transmitted disease eroded his mental faculties over years

He spent final years 'talking to' dead men - some of whom he'd had killed

And doctors said he had the mental age of a 12-year-old

His wife Mae kept his condition a secret, knowing the mob would kill him

He eventually died in 1947 due to a pneumonia-caused heart attack

By James Wilkinson For Dailymail.com

PUBLISHED: 09:15 EST, 16 October 2016 | UPDATED: 10:17 EST, 16 October 2016

In the 1920s Al Capone was one of the most feared men in the United States of America - a criminal kingpin who rose to the head of the Chicago mob aged just 26 and whose campaign of extortion and murder touched the world of politics.

But despite being shrewd and security-conscious, Capone was ultimately taken down by an unstoppable foe: A syphillis infection that left him with the mental age of a 12-year-old, doctors said.

His shocking story and pitiful end are the focus of a new book, 'Al Capone: His Life, Legacy and Legend' by Dierdre Bair, the NY Post reported.

Mobster: Al Capone was the feared boss of the Chicago mob. But despite being careful to guard against rival gangsters, he was felled by the sexually transmitted disease syphilis

Last days: The gangster lived out his last days at this mansion with his family. But the disease has ravaged his mind, and he would 'talk' to dead men, including some that he'd had killed

Capone - nicknamed 'Scarface' after an attack as a teenager that left him with a marked left cheek - had made his fortune as the vicious leader of the Chicago Outfit.

The Outfit, which had tendrils across the US, ran bootlegging and smuggling operations, and Capone would bomb the stores of those who resisted their protection rackets.

That power turned Capone into a major target, but the wily crook was careful to surround himself with security and shield himself from arrest.

He was also famous for his parties and life of excess, which earned him headlines across the world and fascinating a population hungry for scandal.

But in 1932, Capone, then 33, was imprisoned on tax evasion charges, and prison doctors immediately diagnosed him with the sexually transmitted diseases syphilis and gonorrhoea.

By the time he was paroled in 1939, Capone was in the midst of late-stage syphilis, and as his mind began to unravel he would be seen talking to himself.

At least, that's how it appeared from the outside, but inside Capone's head he was having in-depth conversations with men who were long-dead - some of whom he'd had killed.

Capone was given a 'pension' of just $600 a week by the Chicago Outfit - a huge step down from his former life of luxury, in which the mobster, rumored to make $40million a year would wear expensive jewelry and drink fine liquor.

In danger: Had the mob learned Capone was senile, they would have had him killed

Instead, he would walk around his mansion in his pajamas, trying to collect butterflies with his granddaughter.

'It was, in many ways, an ideal, middle-class Italian-American household where family came first,' Bair told the NY Post.

That mansion was sold for $7.4million in 2014 and is now being rented out for movies and private functions.

Capone was fiercely protected by his wife Mae, who knew that if the reporters who camped out on their lawn found out he was talking about old business, the Outfit would have him killed.

And if his syphilis caused him to lash out, he would be determined to be breaking his parole and be hauled back into the slammer.

But Mae kept her husband safe with the emotional fortitude of any number of Capone's former heavies, and he lived out his final days in the mansion, dying in 1947, aged just 48, after a stroke, heart attack and pneumonia.

It was a muted end for the vicious mobster who fascinated America - and proof that all the henchmen in the world can't protect you from yourself.

Read more: http://www.dailymail.co.uk/news/article-3841142/Al-Capone-s-fall-criminal-kingpin-syphilis-riddled-madman-explored.html#ixzz4VIHDZ1Ek

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On Anniversary Of Al Capone's Prison Stint, IRS Delivers 2nd Gun To Mob Museum

Kelly Phillips Erb ,  FORBES STAFF October 17, 2016

It was 85 years ago today that the feds finally got their man: on this day in 1931, Al Capone was sentenced to serious prison time. Despite Capone's reputation, he wasn't put away for murder or gambling or bootlegging but for tax evasion.

Alphonse Gabriel Capone, better known as Al Capone, was born in Brooklyn, New York in 1899. When he was 18, a friend, Johnny "The Fox" Torrio, introduced Capone to Frankie Yale. Yale owned a number of brothels which served as bases for illegal activities, including gambling. Yale gave Capone a job as a bouncer and bartender at one of the brothels. While at work, Capone, who wasn't known for being even-tempered, got into a fight and was slashed across the face three times with a knife, earning him his first nickname, "Scarface." Supposedly, the fight was over a girl: Capone made a pass at a customer's sister.

While still just a teenager, Capone met and married Mae Josephine Coughlin. That same month, Mae gave birth to the couple's first child, a son, Albert Francis "Sonny" Capone. Capone then decided it was time to settle down. He moved his family to Baltimore with intentions of making an honest living. But he couldn't resist his old life, and when Torrio asked Capone to move to Chicago and help him run his mob empire, it was an offer Capone couldn't refuse. Prohibition was in full swing and the men saw an opportunity to exploit the demand for booze, gambling, and women.

In 1925, Torrio barely survived an assassination attempt by rival mobsters Hymie "The Pole" Weiss, Vincent "The Schemer" Drucci, and George "Bugs" Moran. That was it for Torrio: he wanted out. He decided to leave Chicago and head to Italy, handing over control of his mob empire over to Capone.

Capone expanded Torrio's business in Chicago and made lots of money doing it. By the mid-1920s, Capone was reportedly taking home $60 million annually ($826 million in today's dollars). Despite playing "Robin Hood" to the locals, his wealth continued to grow, reportedly topping $100 million ($1.43 billion in today's dollars).

As Capone's empire grew, so did his penchant for violence. The bodies piled up as rival gangs fought for control in Chicago. The lawlessness culminated on February 14, 1929, when gunmen allegedly hired by Capone posed as police officers before executing rival gangsters belonging to George "Bugs" Moran. Capone was in Miami at the time of the shootings but was immediately blamed for what came to be known as the St. Valentine's Day Massacre. No one was ever prosecuted. After the shootings, the FBI dubbed Capone "Public Enemy Number One," a label Capone reportedly hated.

Capone's exploits taunted lawmen who wanted him brought down. Capone proved difficult to pin down, escaping prosecution for serious crimes through a combination of smarts and, more importantly, bribes. Then President Herbert Hoover made it clear that he wanted Capone off the streets.

Scarface and Tennessee

December 6, 2016

BY MIKE VINSON

Arguably, "Al Capone" embodies the term "gangster" more so than any other criminal in American History. However, after asking around, I was baffled at how many young people didn't know very much about him, or had never heard of him, period.

Alphonse Gabriel "Al" Capone was born to Italian immigrant parents in Brooklyn, New York, January 17, 1899. Dropping out of school at age 14, Capone became a member of the notorious "5 Points Gang," based out of New York. Having gained a reputation as a merciless street fighter and enforcer, the stockily-built Capone was bouncing at brothels while still a teenager.

Though accounts vary, it was while he still was in New York that Capone earned the nickname "Scarface." Capone was working in a nightclub (probably a brothel), and another gangster and his sister entered the nightclub. Capone reportedly made an off-color remark about the gangster's sister. The gangster took Capone's remark as a direct insult, and laid open the left side of Capone's face with a straight razor, thus the moniker "Scarface."

Chicago mob boss John Torrio recruited Capone to leave New York and come to the Windy City in 1921. It is key to note here that Prohibition was in effect as of 1920, Prohibition defined as: the legal prohibiting of the manufacture and sale of alcoholic beverages for consumption. Torrio's Chicago-based gang--comprised of a large number of captains, lieutenants, and foot soldiers--ran a lucrative enterprise, raking in millions yearly on gambling, prostitution, and bootleg beer and whiskey. After arriving in Chicago (1921), young Al began on the bottom rung and worked as a bouncer at one of Torrio's brothels. It wasn't long, though, before the ambitious Capone was Torrio's right-hand man.

January 24, 1925, there was an assassination attempt on John Torrio's life. Though shot several times, Torrio managed to survive. Aware that death was inevitable if he didn't step down, and with plenty of money stashed away, Torrio turned over his "Chicago Outfit" to 26-year-old Al Capone.

After assuming control from Torrio, Capone set up his headquarters at The Hawthorne Inn, located at 4833 - 22nd Street, Cicero, Chicago. If my sources are correct, Capone owned 160 speakeasies (slang for bar/dance club), 150 gambling joints, and 22 brothels. It has been written that, at his peak, Capone was making over 50 million dollars a year--both big money and big politicians in his back pocket! Chauffeur driven in a bulletproof, souped-up Cadillac, attired in tailored silk suits, fedora hats, cigar in mouth, "Big Al," sociopath though he was, commanded totalitarian respect. However, such bountiful success did not come without equally ambitious adversaries.

George "Bugs" Moran ran Chicago's North Side criminal rackets, in direct competition with Capone's South Side operation. It was well known that Moran wanted to "take out" Capone. Moran's headquarters was the SMC Cartage Company Garage, located at 2122 North Clark Street, Chicago.

On Valentine's Day/February 14, 1929, Capone was conveniently vacationing at his winter home in Miami, Florida. On that same Valentine's day, Moran was scheduled to meet a man at the Cartage Company Garage and buy a truckload of hijacked whiskey, a ruse preemptively hatched by Capone to draw out Moran.

However, Moran was running late, and before he arrived, four Capone hitmen dressed up as Chicago Policemen, probably led by "Machine Gun" Jack McGurn, marched into the garage and ordered the seven men inside to line up against the wall. Six of the men belonged to Moran's gang, and one was an optometrist who enjoyed hanging out with gangsters. Thinking it was a routine Chicago P.D. shakedown, the seven men did as ordered, their backs to their executioners. The Capone gunmen, mistakenly thinking one of the seven, indeed, was Moran, proceeded to blast the seven to smithereens with multiple .45 caliber rounds issued from Thompson submachine guns.

Newspapers across the country featured article-and-photo coverage of the carnage inside the Chicago garage, and it was--and still is--infamously referred to as the "St. Valentine's Day Massacre." Even Bugs Moran, who, as mentioned, had been the main target, but survived because he was running late, stated: "Only Capone kills like that!" Though Capone was considered the mastermind behind the multiple slaughter, no one ever was convicted for the St. Valentine's Day Massacre.

In early October 1931, Al Capone was convicted of income-tax evasion. In 1934, he was transferred from the Atlanta State Penitentiary to the notorious Alcatraz Prison (now closed), which was located in the San Francisco Bay. Suffering from advanced syphilitic dementia, Capone was released to the care of his family in 1939. Capone died of a heart attack at his Miami mansion on January 25, 1947, at the age of 48.

So what about Al Capone and the "Tennessee Connection"? Credible sources claim:

*Capone bought illegal whiskey from bootleggers in Cannon County, TN, and Dekalb County, TN.

*Capone dined at the historic Sedberry Hotel (now closed), located in McMinnville, TN.

*Capone patronized the renowned High Point Restaurant (still operating), located in Monteagle, TN.

Just some Gangster History 101.

Outfit soldier caught on tape planning robbery: 'It will be a great Christmas'

A reputed Chicago Outfit soldier was arrested on gun charges this week after he was caught on undercover recordings bragging about plans to break into the home of an elderly suburban lawyer and force him to open a safe filled with hundreds of thousands of dollars, federal prosecutors say.

"Nothing gets my juices flowing like putting a gun to someone's head, taking their stuff, and making it mine," Charles "Chuckie" Russell was quoted in a court filing telling a government informant. "It will be a great Christmas, I'm telling you."

Russell, 67, was arrested Wednesday after he allegedly went to a South Loop deli to purchase eight guns from a person who turned out to be an undercover federal agent, according to a 26-page criminal complaint unsealed Thursday. He was charged with two counts of being a felon in possession of a firearm and ordered held until a bond hearing in early January.

An alleged member of the Chicago mob's Grand Avenue crew, Russell was sentenced in 1992 to 35 years in prison for an aggravated criminal sexual assault conviction. He was acquitted of attempted murder in that case, records show. He was released on parole in March 2011.

Last month, a confidential informant told agents with the U.S. Bureau of Alcohol, Tobacco, Firearms and Explosives that Russell had been bragging about being "a top ranking member of the mob," according to the complaint.

At a meeting at a coffeehouse on Taylor Street, Russell allegedly told the informant he was the head of a prolific gang of burglars called the "Bishop" boys that was responsible for hundreds of burglaries and home invasions over the past several years.

On Dec. 16, Russell met the informant along with an undercover agent at the Boundary Tavern and Grille in Wicker Park, according to the complaint. During the conversation, which was secretly recorded, Russell talked about plans for an upcoming robbery of a man in his 70s who was believed to have as much as $750,000 in cash in a safe in his home, the complaint said. Russell said he'd been casing the home for years and had an "ex-girl" who was on the inside and knew the location of the safe and other valuables.

"If he doesn't open it, we're gonna make him open it," Russell said, according to the complaint. "They always open for me, believe me. I bring my butane torch, put it on the bottom of their feet, they open it."

According to the complaint, Russell wanted help on the robbery. He told the informant and the undercover agent that his crew would be equipped with all the proper tools to avoid detection, including police scanners, masks and a change of clothes. He also said their biggest worry would be if the victim had a heart attack, because if "he (expletive) drops dead, we got a (expletive) murder," according to the complaint.

"The fun for me is the score," Russell allegedly said on the recording. "That's how I get my adrenaline. ... You know how long it takes to come to down for me? I counted money one night for so long my hands were filthy."

Later in the conversation, Russell talked about buying firearms from the undercover agent. On Monday, the three men met again at the Gale Street Inn in Jefferson Park, where Russell gave the agent a list of guns he was looking for, including an Uzi submachine gun and an AK-47, according to the complaint.

During the meeting, Russell handed the undercover agent a driver's license depicting an African-American man and then showed him a cellphone photo of a car that was riddled with bullet holes. Russell said he was showing him "some decent work" of his, and that the man was "no longer with us."

"All (expletive) blood and brain all over the (expletive) seat," Russell was quoted in the charges as saying. "Went right through his head and out that side. Take (the car) and drop it off in the black community, another black bastard gets caught with it."

Chicago police confirmed that the man depicted in the driver's license photo was killed in November, according to the complaint.

Russell's arrest marked the latest blow for the once-feared Grand Avenue crew made famous by colorful and violent leaders such as Joey "The Clown" Lombardo and currently believed to be headed by Albert "Little Guy" Vena, who is Russell's brother-in-law

In 2014, alleged crew members Robert Panozzo, Paul Koroluk, and others were arrested on sweeping racketeering charges alleging an array of crimes going back to at least 2007, from home invasions and armed robberies to burglaries, arson, insurance fraud and prostitution.

jmeisner@chicagotribune.com

Twitter @jmetr22b

Copyright © 2017, Chicago Tribune

William Hanhardt, former Chicago police official convicted of running jewelry theft ring, dies at 88

Jeremy Gorner and Annie SweeneyContact Reporters

Chicago Tribune

William Hanhardt, a once-heralded cop who became the highest ranking Chicago police official convicted of wrongdoing for running a sophisticated crew of jewelry thieves who stole millions, died early Friday. He was 88.

Hanhardt, of north suburban Deerfield, died about 3 a.m. at Highland Park Hospital after suffering from complications of chronic obstructive pulmonary disease, according to his son-in-law, Joel Levin.

Over three decades, Hanhardt worked his way up Chicago police to the rank of chief of detectives, before he pleaded guilty in October 2001 to running a theft ring that stalked jewelry salesmen throughout the country and stole more than $5 million in diamonds and gems in the 1980s and 1990s.

In 2002, when he was originally sentenced to 16 years in federal prison, prosecutors accused him of being in "the mob's pocket" for virtually his entire career.

At his sentencing, a hearing that lasted four days, Hanhardt, wearing a bright orange federal prison jumpsuit, expressed no remorse but rather spoke of his pride of being a police officer, including the days he walked into the federal courthouse, according to a Tribune account of the hearing.

"I still have the same amount of pride for this building and our criminal justice system," he told U.S. District Judge Charles Norgle Sr., who a day later handed down the sentence to Hanhardt.

At the sentencing, Norgle said he took into account 18 letters he received from family and friends, praising the loyalty and love of Hanhardt's family.

"We are not at all ashamed of our father," Edward Hanhardt told reporters as the family left the Dirksen U.S. Courthouse. "We stand behind him as a family and we are very proud of him."

Former U.S. Attorney Patrick Fitzgerald called the case "a remarkable chapter in the history of law enforcement" in Chicago.

But in 2004, Hanhardt was resentenced to 11 years and nine months in prison after a federal appeals court found that Norgle erred in finding that Hanhardt obstructed justice when he failed to appear in court in 2001 because of a suicide attempt.

Hanhardt had a storied 33-year police career, with a reputation as a cop's cop with an uncanny ability to solve crimes. But as he rose through the ranks, eventually becoming a deputy superintendent, he was dogged by alleged ties to organized crime.

Levin, Hanhardt's son-in-law, said Friday that despite his crimes, he should still be remembered for his dedication to service as a Chicago cop.

"Look at all the good things he did in his career," Levin, citing Hanhardt's commendations, said in a phone interview. "He helped people throughout Chicago."

Hanhardt's crew used meticulous planning and pinpoint timing to steal jewels from traveling salesmen.

For example, a Chicago-area jewelry salesman stopped in 1984 at a Holiday Inn in Glendale, Wis., a Milwaukee suburb, parked and locked his Mercedes-Benz by the front door and went inside to use the bathroom. When he came out minutes later, the car was gone, retired Glendale police Capt. James Dandoy, who investigated the case, told the Tribune in 2011. Police found the car three blocks away with $310,000 in watches missing from the trunk, Dandoy recalled.

The thieves had used a valet key they copied while the car was at a repair shop.

The crew also showed patience. Months before a hotel hosted a trade show for jewelers, the crew worked to distract hotel clerks and make duplicate keys for the safety-deposit boxes where salesmen would store gems.

"It was a very sophisticated kind of conduct, the kind you usually just see in the movies and on TV shows," Eric Sussman, a former prosecutor on the case, said in 2011, when Hanhardt was moved to a halfway house on Chicago's Near West Side after serving time in a federal prison in Terre Haute, Ind.

After retiring from the Chicago Police Department in 1986, Hanhardt tapped a Chicago police sergeant and a detective to access law enforcement computers to help him gather intelligence about jewelry salesmen targeted for theft.

At Hanhardt's 2002 sentencing hearing, authorities also disclosed that in 1996 he asked another detective to keep him posted on a joint investigation with federal authorities on the importation of cocaine from South America. Prosecutors at the time said federal authorities felt the investigation had been compromised.

Hanhardt's lawyer, Jeffrey Steinback, on Friday did not want to talk about the case. But he said his former client was first and foremost always concerned about other people close to him.

"Whenever circumstances arose for us to speak, he always insisted on asking how I was," Steinback said. "And he was absolutely genuine about that."

Steinback said Hanhardt's time in prison was "extraordinarily difficult" because of his health, but he never expressed bitterness about his ailments.

"He had an enormous, an immense physical strength even in his later years that was only shown by his mental toughness," Steinback said. "I think that it was mental toughness that enabled him to endure and got him home to the people he loved."

Once he completed his sentence, Levin said, Hanhardt sought to put the crimes behind him. He had seven children, 18 grandchildren and 19 great-grandchildren, Levin said. Hanhardt had just turned 88 earlier this month and celebrated his birthday with his family.

"He was a family man and his family meant most to him," Levin said.

Funeral services are being planned.

jgorner@chicagotribune.com

asweeney@chicagotribune.com

Twitter @JeremyGorner

Twitter @annie1221

Copyright © 2017, Chicago Tribune

Razing Riviera casino will level part of Vegas' mobster past

By SALLY HO, Associated Press

LAS VEGAS (AP) — The Riviera Hotel and Casino — the Las Vegas Strip's first high-rise that was as famous for its mobster ties as its Hollywood personification of Sin City's mobster past — will officially exit the scene on Tuesday with a cinematic implosion, complete with fireworks.

"The Riv" closed in May 2015 after 60 years on the northern end of the Strip. The shuttered casino's owners, the Las Vegas Convention and Visitors Authority, are spending $42 million to level the 13-building campus.

Officials said the 24-story Monaco Tower will go down at 2 a.m. Tuesday, and the Monte Carlo Tower will be imploded in August. The tourism agency bought the 2,075-room property across 26 acres last year for $182.5 million, plus $8.5 million in related transaction costs, with plans to expand its Las Vegas Convention Center.

The Riviera's 15-to 20-seconds-long implosion will mark the latest kiss goodbye to what's left among the relics to Vegas' mobster past.

"Ironically, the Riviera is as famous for its imaginary self as much as its actual self," said Geoff Schumacher of the National Museum of Organized Crime and Law Enforcement, also known as the Mob Museum in Las Vegas.

Most of its contemporaries have been long gone, with only the Tropicana and Flamingo casinos still in business. The Flamingo has been completely rebuilt at its original location, but the Tropicana still has pieces of its original building, making it the last true mob structure on the Strip, said Michael Green, Nevada historian and a professor at the University of Nevada, Las Vegas.

When The Riviera opened in 1955, organized crime outfits from across the country had already sunk their teeth into the casinos in a takeover that had started the decade before. Gambling profits were skimmed to send back home to pay for their gangs' illegal enterprises involving illegal betting, drugs, prostitution, murders and everything else. The mobsters were known to have controlled the money-counting at the most famous casinos in their day, including the Dunes, Sands, Desert Inn and Stardust — all of which have already disappeared from the Strip.

"The Riviera was and always was the Chicago outfit's crown jewel in the desert," Schumacher said.

A classic mob joint, the Riviera's place in that seedy time is probably outranked by the Flamingo, historians said. That casino was run by Bugsy Siegel, who is regarded as the most historically significant figure from that era.

The casinos were cleaned up in the 1970s and 1980s, courtesy of state and federal crackdowns on organized crime.

Hollywood's version of the past, however, would hoist the Riviera to the top.

Three of the most famous movies ever filmed in Las Vegas used the Riviera as a backdrop, including the Rat Pack's original 1960 "Ocean's 11," the 1971 James Bond film "Diamonds Are Forever" and "Casino," the 1995 movie based on real-life Vegas mobsters Frank Rosenthal and Anthony Spilotro during their 1970s heyday at the Stardust. More recently, it was featured in "The Hangover" in 2009.

The Riviera also pioneered the business model that helped Vegas turn into an entertainment capital. The casino's first headliner was Liberace. Dean Martin was a part-owner for a short time as part of his exclusive residency.

"(The Riviera) looked like a 50s Rat Pack casino up until yesterday," Schumacher said.

Copyright 2016 The Associated Press. All rights reserved. This material may not be published, broadcast, rewritten or redistributed.