Photo Essay: Celebrating America's 250th Birthday with Fireworks Over the Long Beach Harbor

I felt a lot of pressure this year to have a really good Fourth of July. 

Maybe it was because of the Semiquincentennial, a.k.a. America's 250th birthday. I don't remember the Bicentennial in 1976, but it's always seemed like it was such a big deal. With that in mind, the stakes felt even higher this year than they usually do. 

Or maybe it was because of the disappointments of July 4ths past—the promise of fireworks that ended up not being all that visible, the house parties with illegal fireworks that I found more scary than thrilling, the bout with Covid in 2022, being stood up at a Ryan Adam concert in Battery Park in 2003. It all piles on, year after year, making each Independence Day even more important—and stressful—than the last. 

This year, I spent hours poring over local listings of parades and fireworks displays, looking for somewhere I'd be guaranteed a seat and a good view without having to, say, arrive super early or even camp out overnight. I wanted something festive without having to drive too far. 

And I wanted real pyrotechnics, not drones. (I understand these are harmful to wildlife and disturbing to pets and sensory-sensitive people, but I have not yet gotten over my unappeased childhood obsession with them.)

 

This year, the place to be seemed to be Long Beach—which had expanded its show to three different launch points along the harbor for America 250. Hoping to get a front seat to all three of them, I booked a boat ride with Harbor Breeze Cruises.

Photo Essay: This Mid-Century Palm Springs Estate Shines With or Without Its Howard Hughes History

Every year, it's overwhelming to go through the Modernism Week schedule and try to figure out which tours to take. 

I'll admit, I get lazy and sometimes just choose based on a certain amount of star power. I haven't yet gone wrong with the Frank Sinatra, Kirk Douglas, William Holden, or Gummo Marx estates. 

 

But the Howard Hughes Residence in Palm Springs has a lot more to offer than just a celebrity pedigree of an eccentric aerospace engineer and movie mogul.

Photo Essay: A Real Estate Heir-Turned-Recluse Kept His Lake Tahoe Compound To Himself (And Accidentally Conserved Much of the Shoreline)

On my way from California to farther east in Nevada, I stopped along the eastern shore of Lake Tahoe (technically in the town of Incline Village, NV) to take a tour of a historic estate known as Thunderbird Lodge.  

 

Locals seem to call it "the old Whittell estate"—named after the eccentric millionaire from San Francisco who built it, George Whittell, Jr.

Photo Essay: Flying Through the Jet Age-Era TWA Terminal, On the Cusp of the Space Age

I've been long fascinated with the old TWA terminal at JFK Airport, out of commission since 2001 after decades of being too small to serve incoming or outgoing flights on jumbo jets. 

Designed by architect and industrial Eero Saarinen—as well-known for the "tulip chair" as for the St. Louis Gateway Arch—the 1962 Trans World Flight Center had fallen into disrepair by the time I got to visit it up close (and inside) in 2011, although it had been partially restored.

circa 2011

Over the last decade or so, I've watched how the defunct terminal of the defunct airline has been restored and even reincarnated as the TWA Hotel, connected to JetBlue Airways' Terminal 5. 

Photo Essay: The Former Mansion of Liberace, Upon His 100th Birthday

Wladziu Valentino Liberace would have been 100 years old this week, if he were still alive.

"Mr. Showmanship" may have passed away 32 years ago, but his memory is still very much alive—at least in Las Vegas.



Liberace had made Vegas his home for decades—even putting his mother up in a condo in Beverly Green—but most people associate him with the "Liberace Mansion" on Shirley Street in Paradise, where he lived part-time from 1974 until his death in 1987 (though he was in Palm Springs at the time and also owned properties in Lake Tahoe, Lake Arrowhead, LA, Manhattan, and Malibu).



The entertainer had actually combined two homes to create the largest residence on the block—or probably in the whole neighborhood—the whole thing blinding in sun-bleached white stucco.



The exterior looks pretty modest now for a mansion—but when it went into foreclosure in 2010, it was in shambles. That's how its current owner managed to buy it for $500,000 in 2013.



In 2016—after a huge turnaround—the 14,393-square-foot residence (located in a pretty modest neighborhood) became first residential property to become a county Historic Landmark in Clark County, Nevada.

The European influences and imported goods abound, starting at the sidewalk with an Italian wrought-iron gate that's a century old...



...and hand-carved wooden front doors that were salvaged from a former governor's mansion (in, I believe, California—though some reports claim New York State), which have since been painted black and gold.



The lavish estate exemplifies Liberace's famous motto—"Too Much of a Good Thing Is Wonderful"—though most of the furnishings are appropriate to the star's taste but not original.



Of course, Liberace's style was known well from his elaborate stage performances, media appearances, and photo shoots.



He was an "open book" when it came to his homes, often inviting the cameras in (as well as many of his celebrity friends).



And when you tour the now-restored Liberace Mansion, you can turn any corner and see Liberace's name screaming out at you.



Many of the walls are mirrored floor to ceiling, some etched with designs in the style of Aubrey Beardsley drawings.



Others are etched with Liberace's name, signature, piano, or candelabra...



...as is the discoball-decorated bar that Liberace had installed.



The mansion's current owner lives in Liberace's former walk-in closet, partially in order to preserve the original master bedroom whose ceiling was painted like that of the Sistene Chapel.



A mirrored hall that mimics Louis XIV's Palace of Versailles—flanked by eight marble pillars imported from Greece—leads to the marble-floored master bath.

Fans recognize the "marble courtyard" with its sunken marble tub from a campy prerecorded video intro to Liberace's concerts, in which he reaches out from a bubble bath to tickle the ivories on an adjacent piano.



His 14-karat gold-plated swan fixtures still dispense water into the whirlpool bath, which reportedly cost Liberace $350,000.



Head upstairs by climbing a gilded spiral staircase that was reportedly hand-sculpted in Italy and shipped in one piece from Paris.



Did it really come from a Parisian can-can bar? I haven't been able to find a primary source for that story.



But we do know that Liberace did hold one of three residential gaming licenses in Vegas—along with Howard Hughes and Frank Sinatra. Hence the slot machines.



Out of all these opulent living areas, it's said that Liberace's favorite was the atrium on the upper floor, with its Tangier-inspired design and Moroccan copper tile. That's where he'd relax after playing one of his Vegas shows.



With as much that's been saved of Liberace's, there's also much that's been lost—and not just the piano key-tiled pool that's now covered by a banquet room.



In October 2010, the Liberace Museum—just a mile down Tropicana Avenue from the mansion—closed after 31 years. With the closure of Liberace's adjacent restaurant Tivoli Gardens, all that's left in the shopping plaza he once owned is a larger-than-life mosaic tile portrait of him.



Fortunately, some of the Liberace-owned memorabilia—including pianos and cars—have relocated to "Liberace's Garage" at the Hollywood Cars Museum...



...like his custom Bradley GT sports car (finished in gold metalflake) and a rhinestone-encrusted Rolls.

Many of the contents of the Vegas museum are now housed at the "Thriller Villa," a one-time vacation rental home of Michael Jackson that's become a tourist attraction.

Liberace had wanted to open museums in Palm Springs and the Midwest where he was born and grew up, but those never came to fruition.

And so much of what Liberace had collected over the years was auctioned off right after his passing—enough stuff to fill the LA Coliseum.

A Palm Springs auction was held in 2016 during Modernism Week—a sign, I suppose, that the Palm Springs Liberace museum will never come to fruition.

One of Liberace's favorite songs to perform was "The Impossible Dream." I guess even if your dream is impossible, that doesn't mean you shouldn't dream it.

Related Posts:
Photo Essay: A Bit of Hollywood in Vegas
Photo Essay: At Home With Mr. Las Vegas
Photo Essay: The Other Elvis of Palm Springs, The Elvis of My Childhood

Photo Essay: Haunted Accommodations In A Silver Mining Ghost Town

What was once known as "The Best Hotel in Nevada" at the turn of the last century has just been voted "Best Haunted Hotel" in the country by USA Today readers.



Oh my.



I didn't know that when I booked my overnight stay in Tonopah there, as I was on my way east to Ely.



But it was confirmed pretty much as soon as I walked in the door...



...when the young front desk attendant was talking about how she refuses to go down to the basement by herself anymore...



...because of something that had happened down there.



I then waited for the elevator to come so I could adjourn to my room, but when the doors opened, two staffers from housekeeping were headed down, not up.



"No, you go ahead," I said.



"I heard what happens down in the basement. I'm not going down there with you."



I only slept there one night, senses dulled by whiskey from the saloon across the street, but no other spirits made their way into my room with me that night (for once).



And although there may be some restless energy at the Mizpah Hotel, it's known better for its prosperity—and as a symbol of the good times in the short-lived boomtown of Tonopah.



When it was built in 1907-8, Tonopah was, indeed, prosperous—thanks in no small part to the Mizpah Mine directly behind the hotel, which was the most successful of all the silver mines in the area.

Although the silver boom went bust quicker than you could say "Mizpah," the town and the hotel caught a second wind of sorts when gambling was legalized in 1931.



There must've been enough cash flowing through there to warrant a bank-like vault for safety deposit boxes...



...which now serves as a mini-museum for the hotel.



By 1957, things had settled down quite a bit in Tonopah—and entrepreneur, aviator, and moviemaker Howard Hughes slipped away to the Mizpah Hotel to marry his third wife, Jean Peters, in a private and low-key ceremony. That, of course, put the Mizpah on the celebrity gossip map (even after-the-fact).

That more or less ushered in Hughes's most reclusive period, when he famously holed himself up the Desert Inn in Vegas and had to buy the hotel in 1966 in order to be allowed to stay on the top floor of suites, where he'd been squatting for months.

His marriage to Jean Peters (his third) didn't last long, ending in divorce in 1971. The Mizpah was more or less forgotten, a footnote in the eccentric's biography.



Hughes's ghost has been known to haunt the Pantages Theatre in Hollywood, where he once had an office. Maybe his spirit vacations in Nevada.



Or, maybe one of the ghostly (or ghastly?) visitors is W.W. Booth, founder of the Tonopah Bonanza, after whom a guest room is named. (One of the other prominent local figures who have passed, who also have rooms dedicated to them, could also be a culprit as well.)



The genesis of the name "Mizpah" for the hotel is somewhat of a mystery, though some note its biblical origins (as a place in Palestine) and one of the word's meanings as a watchtower.

For 40 years, the Mizpah Hotel was one of the two tallest buildings in the state of Nevada.

And maybe now, it's still tall enough for the specters who never left to watch over their old ghost town from it.

Related Posts:
Photo Essay: Digging Into the Silver Royalty of Nevada's "Other" Side
Photo Essay: Clown Motel, Gateway to the Haunted Miners' Cemetery
Photo Essay: The Scenic Route, Nevada Edition