Tropicana Las Vegas closes after 67 years, making way for MLB stadium

The doors of the Tropicana Las Vegas locked for the last time on Tuesday at noon, ending 67 years of continuous operation. By October, demolition crews will begin clearing the site to make room for a $1.5 billion Major League Baseball stadium expected to open in 2028. The closure marks another chapter in Las Vegas's relentless reinvention—this time, trading vintage casino glamour for the infrastructure of modern sports entertainment.

When the Tropicana opened in 1957, Clark County had just crossed 100,000 residents and the Strip was surrounded by open desert. The original structure cost $15 million to build: three stories with 300 rooms split between two wings, manicured lawns, a towering tulip-shaped fountain at the entrance, and a showroom so elegant it earned the nickname "Tiffany of the Strip." The casino became a magnet for A-list talent. Elizabeth Taylor, Debbie Reynolds, Frank Sinatra, and Sammy Davis Jr. all passed through its mahogany-paneled halls. Mel Torme and Eddie Fisher performed there. Gladys Knight and Wayne Newton held residencies. In 1971, James Bond himself checked in—or at least the film version did, in "Diamonds are Forever," where Agent 007 remarked that the Hotel Tropicana was "quite comfortable."

The Tropicana's early years were shadowed by organized crime. Frank Costello, a reputed mobster with financial interests in the casino, was shot in the head in New York just weeks after the grand opening. Police found in his coat pocket a piece of paper listing the Tropicana's exact earnings and a note about "money to be skimmed" for Costello's associates. By the 1970s, federal authorities investigating mob operations in Kansas City charged more than a dozen operatives with conspiring to skim nearly $2 million in gambling revenue from Las Vegas casinos, including the Tropicana. Five convictions resulted from charges connected to the Tropicana alone. Yet the casino also built a legitimate legacy. It was home to "Folies Bergere," a topless revue imported from Paris that became the city's longest-running show, operating for nearly 50 years. The production featured elaborate costumes, live orchestral music, line dancers, acrobats, and magic—and became synonymous with the feathered showgirl, an image that defined Las Vegas in the public imagination. The show was even featured in Elvis Presley's 1964 film "Viva Las Vegas."

As Las Vegas evolved, so did the Tropicana. Two hotel towers were added over the decades. In 1979, a $1 million green-and-amber stained glass ceiling was installed above the casino floor, a fixture that would become beloved by visitors. The 1980s brought a rebrand as "The Island of Las Vegas," complete with a swim-up blackjack table at the pool. A South Beach-themed renovation was completed in 2011. By the time it closed, only the low-rise hotel room wings remained of the original structure, yet the casino still evoked vintage Vegas—the stained glass, the low ceilings, the sense of stepping back in time.

Barbara Boggess started working at the Tropicana in 1978 as a linen room attendant, when she was 26 years old. "The Tropicana was pretty much sitting here all by itself," she recalled. "It was desert all around. It used to take me 10 minutes to get to work. Now it takes an hour." Now 72, Boggess witnessed the casino through all its transformations. The desert that once surrounded the property has long since vanished, replaced by towering megaresorts and, more recently, the homes of the NFL's Las Vegas Raiders and the NHL's Vegas Golden Knights.

On the final day, Robert "Videobob" Moseley was among the last guests to check out. He had paid $600 for a standard room and spent the night at the casino with friends. "We're losing this iconic part of Vegas," he said. "They're gonna kill Vegas." Charlie Granado, a bartender who had worked at the Tropicana for 38 years and called it a second home, offered a more measured reflection: "It's time. It's ran its course. It makes me sad but on the other hand, it's a happy ending."

JT Seumala, a Las Vegas resident, visited the casino in March specifically to pay tribute before it closed. He and his husband explored the casino floor and hotel, tried their luck at blackjack and roulette, and spoke with a cocktail server who had worked there for 25 years. They pocketed a few red $5 poker chips as mementos. "There's a lot of controversy as far as if it should stay or should it go," Seumala said. "But the thing that I do love about Vegas is that it's always reinventing itself." The ballpark that will replace the Tropicana sits at the south end of the Strip, at an intersection with a major thoroughfare still bearing the casino's name—a reminder of what stood there, even as the city moves forward.