Cards and A Pair of Dice

What is there NOT to love about California?

People who lived there have nicknamed it the Golden Land.

I first laid eyes on it in the 1960s, after the Los Angeles Herald-Examiner had hired me as a reporter. Until that point, the closest I had gotten to California was Wickenburg, AZ. which, come to think of it, isn't very close at all.

But now I was driving down a wide two-lane highway into the setting sun. I passed through Blythe and then Palm Springs, smelling the distinct aroma of orange blossoms, hibiscus, creosote and the desert air.

Outside of Pomona, I discovered the Southern California freeway system. There were freeways everywhere -- SIX lanes of traffic with cars going in all directions. Help! What's a country boy, a desert rat like me, doing in this mess of traffic, skyscrapers and mountains.

I drove on, arriving in Los Angeles around 8 p.m. I had no idea where I was going to stay. I followed the signs and found myself in Hollywood.

For hours I drove on Hollywood Boulevard, the Sunset Strip and other highways and byways until I found a motel on a hill above Grauman's Chinese Theater. It had a swimming pool, the rent was reasonable and I could look across the wide boulevard below me and see the huge "H'' that stood for Hollywood on a hill several miles away.

During the next few days, I found myself in a hectic world. The Herald-Examiner was a hectic newspaper. It was located in an ancient building at 1111 S. Broadway where such ink-stained wretches of the Fourth Estate like Walter Winchell, James Bacon, Harrison Carroll and a city editor named Tom Caton labored over typewriters and fast-moving copy paper.

The editorial office was filled with smoke, most of it from Caton's ever-present cigar. I was one of about 20 reporters sitting in lined up desks, chomping at the bit, waiting to be sent out on a story in the City of Angels.

At night I roamed Hollywood looking for exotic restaurants, bars and girls. The city had places to suit everyone. Ciro's and the Trocadero were two of the most colorful. They were owned by a gambler named Billy Wilkerson who could usually be found at Table One.

He published a gossip magazine called the Hollywood Reporter. Actors, producers and directors knew if they dined or drank at Ciro's or Trocadero they would probably find their names in the Reporter, so the restaurants attracted them like flies to honey.

His regular customers included Mae West, Clark Gable, Gary Cooper, Joan Crawford and Louella Parsons. Humphrey Bogart loved his food and often dined there with Lauren Bacall.

Wilkerson loved the night club business. He was never without a good supply of famous people and lively conversationalists. And the clubs offered him a steady cash-flow for his favorite profession: gambling.

He would take care of his restaurant work in the morning and then head for either Hollywood Park or Santa Anita Race Track. He always carried a pair of dice and a deck of cards. If he was in a restaurant and a famous actor or director would come in, Billy would roll the dice to see who picked up the check. The Hollywood crowd loved him.

Wilkerson played a regular game of poker in the private games held weekly at the homes of Sam Goldwyn or Joe Schenck. Only the high rollers were allowed in the games where the buy-in was a minimum of $20,000.

Once Billy borrowed $75,000 from Schenck to open a gambling casino on the French Riviera. He had found a small hotel there that he told Schenck was perfect for the operation. Two weeks later he called Schenck from the Riviera and told them he had lost all the money at Monte Carlo.

Billy estimated he lost over $150,000 a year gambling. In 1944 he hit a vicious losing streak and dropped over $1 million. Schenck who was a good friend told him he needed to open his own casino and he made an effort to start up the Flamingo Resort in Las Vegas. Bugsy Siegel beat him to it and was killed by the mob for skimming money.

Wilkerson made one final effort at setting up an illegal gambling casino at Arrowhead Springs near Los Angeles. That failed to work and he retired quietly, becoming part of the colorful legend that is Hollywood.