As I  walk through an aging Tropicana that opened on April 4, 1957, the mood is solemn at best. U2's In the Name of Love plays overhead, and a light smokey smell curls the casino air. People stream by, everyone aware that this is their last time within these fabled doors.

March 31, 2024, is the Tropicana's final day.

The casino's best years were decades ago, and this may have led to its downfall, along with its prime location for a stadium.

Last days of gaming

Some tables get action, but the sense of impending doom is too distracting for most gamblers. The majority of the slot machines sit empty. The table games bear a sign that says they will “no longer be selling $5 and $10 chips.”

The registration desk has four employees talking in low tones, and I wonder, as I look around, where they'll go now.

At a cocktail bar with a neon sign above it reading “Frozen Drinks,” two pretty blondes sit and discuss life over a drink. Their bloom is in stark contrast to the old casino, as if they've been photoshopped in place.



 

Pool & Courtyard

As I join the crowd of looky-loos headed outside, I realize I've never seen the Tropicana pool. Why would I have? I never stayed at the hotel. We walk under a curiously low ceiling- has it always been that low, perhaps a nod to its early days in the 60s?

The ageless pool, although closed, appeared ready for a party like it could open today.

I pictured people in flamboyant mod attire enjoying drinks by the pool and courtyard. Generations have stayed and played at the casino, witnessing its 67-year history.

The courtyard looks like something you would see in a Marriott 20 years ago.

I am surrounded by beautiful, big palm trees and other vegetation that have grown undisturbed for decades. I hate to envision the courtyard ripped up, the palm trees and birds relocating at best, vanishing at worst.

A new stadium adding yet more concrete to our desert.

Still, I, like many other locals, have mostly forgotten about the Tropicana, and truth be told, if it weren't closing, I wouldn't be here.

The Final Goodbye

Tropicana gazes at newer casinos like the Luxor, MGM, and New York-New York, and they stare back. They wait and watch for the old casino to come down, which will no doubt be the future of all of them eventually. Vegas does not have much love for old structures.

As I head toward the exit, Bruce Springsteen's song I'm Going Down plays overhead, a fitting end to the Tropicana.

.