An artist's depiction of Julia Bulette's theft and murder by John Millain. The caption on the front of the card reads: "Julia Bulette; Murdered for her Jewels by John Millain, 1887. J. M hung in 1868." A lengthy description printed on the back of the card reads: "Julia Bulette came to Virginia City while it was still a raw camp, and was soon among its best known figures. Reputedly a French Creole from New Orleans, tall, dark, lithe and witty, she was no ordinary lady of the line. Her secret charities were innumerable, her public services many, and her entertainments memorable for both cuisine and conversation. During the deadly black-water plague of 1861, she made her house into a hospital, nursed the stricken miners, and pawned her belongings to help their families. She was chosen an honorary member of Engine Company Number 1, but, not content with honorary status, attended the fires, worked a stirrup pump, and served refreshments to the Company afterwards. She was not one to seek obscurity or tolerate condescension. In the flush years of the first boom, she paraded C Street daily in a coach with four aces fanned upon the door, and sat nightly in her own box at the opera house, with a sable cape across her shoulders. When the ladies of the upper city sought to confine her activities, she retaliated by crashing their parties and making them her own. As a result, her violent death during the night of January 20, 1867, precipitated a cold war of the sexes. When her funeral procession, long, entirely masculine, and led by a band playing a dead-march, moved out B Street toward Old Flowery Cemetery, the wives in the hill mansions sat behind closed doors and drawn shutters, though even those could not defend them from the sprightly, returning strains of "The Girl I Left Behind Me." And conversely, when John Millain was arrested, some months later, after selling articles recognized as Julie's, his trial by the men was something less than impartial, but he was constantly visited in prison by women who showered him with gifts and tears. That his hanging, in April of 1868, drew the largest crowd in Virginia's history to the hollow north of town where the gallows was erected, the women to the ringside seats and the men to the slopes behind them, was less a tribute to Millain himself than a result of the fact that he was dying as the murderer of Julie Bulette, more nearly a Queen of the Comstock than any of her wealthy "betters" who vied for the title. "Sazarac" Virginia City, Nevada."
On a pleasant spring evening at sundown in April 2017, a Pop-Up Shabbat draws a crowd of Jews to the Jackie Gaughan Parkway at the El Cortez Hotel & Casino. Proudly, and quietly, watching from the sideline is Kenny Epstein, owner of the El Cortez. He seeks no recognition, but is enjoying the gathering for Sabbath services and the music that will fill the air. Kenny Epstein is also a classic enthusiast of Las Vegas history. The nostalgia is evident as one walks through the casino and reinforced by the stories of a man who has experienced the city’s growth since moving here in 1959 at the age of 18. The timeline of Kenny’s teen years begins with his bar mitzvah in Chicago and a story of prizefighter Rocky Marciano giving a brief toast. When he was 15, his parents, Ike and Adele Epstein, took the family to visit Las Vegas. About three years later, his father became an executive at the Stardust. Kenny’s own imprint on Las Vegas history was just beginning. In this brief interview, he mentions an illustrious list of mentors and recalls many historic moments from the history of the Las Vegas Strip. All of which led to his ownership of The El Cortez—advertised as the longest continuously operating hotel/casino.