Nevada Pioneer Steve Pavlovich

Steve Pavlovich was born in Yugoslavia in 1889. He came to America armed with dreams and a promise of a good life. What he found were rough-and-tumble characters who would rather beat you for your pennies than give you the time of day. He traveled from New York to New Jersey to Wyoming before arriving in the acrid, dusty deserts of Nevada, ready for adventure. The town of Tonopah was the most promising, and Pavlovich found a job at the Tonopah Club, working for Nick Abelman in 1910 as a bartender and faro dealer.

He was quick with numbers and could tell Abelman how the joint was doing without consulting his ledgers and was trusted to haul roulette wheels and poker tables to new clubs in towns like Manhattan and Bellehelen. In each new location Pavlovich as a one-third partner with money-man Abelman.

Pavlovich was a sure-shot with a six-gun, once drawing quickly from behind the bar and stopping a robbery in Bellehelen with a single slug into the door jamb next to the head of the would-be robber who stood with a shotgun pointed at a table of poker players. The man dropped the rifle and fled into the street where he was apprehended. The rifle was tacked above the bar’s back-glass as a reminder until the saloon (and the town) was abandoned.

In 1917 Pavlovich was the manager of Abelman’s Big Casino, having learned much from the small-town saloons. In 1922, Steve and his wife, the former Mary Dabkovich struck out on their own to Reno where they opened the Mizpah buffet, a dining and gaming establishment in the heart of town. They enjoyed the amenities that Reno provided, but there was too much competition for a small club to compete with, so they moved back to Tonopah until Abelman sold his businesses in 1927 and asked Steve to help run new casinos with him in Reno.

Bert Riddick, who also partnered with Steve and Abelman in several clubs, had moved back to his home in Ely, Nevada, so Steve traveled there with Mary to see the area and convince Bert that he should consider a move to Reno too.

The partners shared interests in Ely saloons like the Bank Club, which had one of the first Keno games in Nevada after the legalization of open gaming in 1931. The new laws allowed more money to be safely spent on casinos, and Nick opened the plush Ship and Bottle on N. Center Street in Reno with Steve handling the action during the evening.

When the club turned profitable, the partners turned their sights on the Riverside Buffet and the Stateline Country Club. It was decided that during the summer months, Steve would manage the Tahoe Casino, and he and Nick worked continuously on the interior. Pavlovich took great pride in the club’s restaurant, adding personal favorites like Louisiana frog legs and Idaho trout to the club patron’s favorite meal, filet mignon – which was available for $1.50 with vegetables, potatoes, and a dessert.

Pavlovich also loved to play 21 and spent time at neighboring casinos. One afternoon he found himself stuck $3,000 at the tiny club next door, the Main Entrance. When he caught the dealer dealing seconds from the deck to beat him, Pavlovich pulled his .44 and demanded the cheating dealer return his money.

Instead, a bouncer hit Steve repeatedly with a chair until he collapsed on the floor. Pavlovich, his head and face swelling, was taken to Reno’s Lawton Springs where the owner, Felix Turillas, secured a doctor and kept watch over him for two weeks.

His right eye was swollen shut and troubled him for the rest of his life. The cheating dealer was administered to by Bones Remmer, who made sure he wouldn’t trouble Steve ever again. Afterward, Lake Tahoe’s 6,100 elevation bothered Pavlovich and he worked exclusively at the Riverside casino in Reno. He sold his interest in the club to Mert Wertheimer in 1949.

After retiring in the 1950s, Steve and his wife moved to San Diego to be close to their son, but they missed their friends and the adventures of Nevada. Diabetes had reduced Steve’s eyesight and mobility, and one evening he took the same Frontier model revolved that had caused his problems at Lake Tahoe and turned the muzzle on his chest. His wife followed in death soon after by ingesting poison.

The Lure of Casino Chips

What is it exactly that makes people collect casino chips? Is it the round shape? After all, who hasn’t taken a coin of some type and flipped it – heads, tails, heads, tails…………that’s got to be a universal urge. But chips, I’m not sure.

The fact that you can hold a chip in your hand helps, and it represents money, or better yet, it represents the quest for more money, easy money. That one little chip can be transformed into a lot more. Hell, “Tree Top” Jack Straus turned the phrase “a chip and a chair” into reality when he won the 1982 World Series of Poker Championship after being nearly busted early in the tournament.

Straus was down to just one $500 chip before doubling up several times and eventually winning the largest paying single sporting event in history (at the time), some $520,000. That chip must have been magical! And that’s how I feel about all the chips I collect.

Every chip I have is special for some reason. Some, only because I like the look of the chip, or because I traded it with somebody special (I have a few ugly chips I like because Bruce Landau or Doug Saito and I haggled over them at some point). Others are from casinos where I played a little poker or blackjack, even winning sometimes.

However, the main reason I love casino chips is that they represent the casino itself: the history of the casino and the people who built gaming. When I hold a chip from the Calneva at North Shore Lake Tahoe circa 1930, I know who was in the club and running things at the time.

I know Bill Graham or Jim McKay probably authorized that chip, and I know their own history. I know movie stars like Clara Bow played in the club at the time – and could have even touched that very chip. How could that connection be any more intoxicating?

Don’t collect chips? Well, there is still time for you to turn your life around. Maybe you already collect old dice, postcards, ashtrays or some other casino memorabilia – and you probably get the same excitement as I do with the chips. Or maybe you don’t. Perhaps you should give it a try.

Go ahead, I dare you.

Nevada Gaming History

I’ve been a gambler my whole life, ever since I started pitching pennies and shooting marbles. I hate to lose, so most of my education came on the cheap, and I’ve stayed with games I could beat, and steered away from people and games I couldn’t.

Near the beginning, I was a nine-year-old kid playing a Superior Jackpot Bell slot machine in the basement of my great grandparent’s house in Oakland, California.

We’d made the trip in from the other side of the Caldecott Tunnel, my parents and I, and my older sister, but I could only visit so long before my little brain got bored.

When that happened, I’d go through the kitchen to the little porch in back and head down the stairs. Then, I’d pull the latch on the basement door and flip the switch to the dirt-floored, musty old room and check things out. It was creepy in there, but it was always exciting.

Once, I found old magazines from the 1950s like TV Guide and Time. I moved on. Only the Playboy magazine kept me interested for more than a few minutes. But what really got my attention was a big metal thing with a handle.

I saw it hiding under a bunch of old boxes filled with papers and Christmas ornaments that I shoved aside. Once exposed I realized this wasn’t a candy machine. It was an old slot machine. I’d seen newer ones at the casinos in Lake Tahoe, the place where my Aunt Val once hit a 10-cent Keno ticket for $500.

My heart was thumping as I pushed some rolled-up rugs further away so I could turn the machine around. It was no easy task since it weighed about as much as I did. It scraped noisily against the coarse wood and slowly swiveled as I huffed and puffed. The back revealed a door that came off once I turned the key. Inside there were big spools with colored-fruit symbols, springs, gears, and a small square box with a hole in the top.

I pulled the box out and opened it. Talk about a jackpot! It was filled with dimes. Old ones, made of silver. I played with them while my mind traveled with me to the local Seven Eleven I rode my banana seat bike to that sold packs of baseball cards and Slurpees.

Sometime later I managed to get my hand out of the cold hard cash and turn the darned monstrosity around again. Then, I started putting the dimes I had taken from the box, back into the machine, one at a time. Mostly I hit cherries on the first reel, which paid back a few coins. I must have played for an hour before I heard my mother calling me to “Get up here!”

I felt an enormous temptation to take a handful of dimes with me to buy candy or (sound of harps in the background) baseball cards. I was a San Francisco Giants fan, and Willie Mays, Willie McCovey, Juan Marichal, Gaylord Perry – holy cow, they were all there, just a few minutes away at Candlestick Park – and a dime bought two packs of cards that offered a chance (slim, mind you) of getting one of their gum cards. So much temptation for such a simple mind. But no, no, I wouldn’t do it; not even for baseball cards.

Over the years I may have taken a few dimes, but not many because that slot machine was the best thing in the world. It was sacred, even if nobody in the family remembered it was down there in the basement. And for a long time, all I wanted was a slot machine of my own.

My First Casino

The best I could manage was a tiny 35-cent machine from a strange little store in town with lots of trinkets from Japan and around the Orient. My math skills were still developing, but my curiosity pushed me to count each stop on the wheels (10 total) and the Bar-Bar-Bar jackpot symbols that only appeared once on each reel.

In addition, a cherry and two cherries only came up once each, and there my friends, was the beginning of my understanding of the magical properties of gambling.

I let my friends play my little slot machine, for a penny a pull, and I paid them a penny for a cherry, two-cents for two cherries, and 5-cents for a jackpot. They were happily playing an 80% payback machine, and the next week I bought two more machines (all in pennies, to the cashier’s dismay) and had my own casino.

My gaming joint, located in our extra bedroom, also offered a small roulette wheel and a pachinko machine. A few days later my mother came into my little casino and busted me. I was shut down; out of business, but richer for the experience. I learned to figure some percentages with those little slot machines.

I also learned to calculate baseball player batting averages (divide their hits by at-bats) and a pitcher’s ERA (earned run average) from the back of those old baseball cards. So, those early cards and slot machines taught me math, and sent me on a path that included playing baseball and lots of poker with buddies through high school and college, and finally spending my adulthood in casinos – on both sides of the tables.

The casinos have been a good gig for me, and the history of Nevada and how the early casinos were legalized and grew from their original spots in basements (like that old 1928 Caille slot I played a Grandma’s) and second floors to become the lifeblood of Nevada’s 20th Century economic base has been a lifelong learning for me.

In confession, I’ve also taught math to some of my daughters with coins paid by slot machines, since they grew up with slots and crane machines in the house. I even have a photo or two of them playing the slot machines in their jammies, occasionally with a bottle of milk in the other hand.

The photo above is one of those slot machines, a cool double reel or “piggyback” that I bought from the old Overland Casino in Reno, but that’s another story.

Reno’s Town House Casino

Reno became the Divorce Capital of the World in the 1930s. Open-gaming was legalized in 1931 and the state lowered residency requirements to six-weeks for divorces. So, people arrived in droves, ready to “take the cure” as they called it, and hotels were available for those on the rich side. Those with more adventurous souls or more modest pocketbooks stayed at one the many dude ranches found in the countryside all over Washoe Valley.

Pictures from the ’20s and ’30s depict Reno visitors in cowboy garb, even if they just took the train in from New York City and had never been on a horse in their life. To fit the crowd and the countryside, Reno saloons and casinos sported a country theme well into the ’60s.

One of the most popular saloons to open in downtown Reno was the Town House, first known as the Dude Ranch Town House. The property was built and operated by Charles Rennie. The bar didn’t have to be as big as the coming Las Vegas casinos like the El Rancho to be successful, and the saloon sported just a long bar, restaurant, and six slot machines. After opening, the club had three games, a 21 table, craps, and roulette.

Although drinking was still illegal due to Prohibition, the Town House offered liquor, as most Reno establishments did. As chronicled in “Mob City: Reno Connection,” Bill Graham and George Wingfield had the fix-in for any club that was sharing a piece of their action, and the Feds never busted the Town House.

Rennie tried to expand his gaming empire to Plumas Avenue, several miles from the downtown corridor in 1936. The move didn’t sit well with the men in charge of Reno, and within a year Charles Rennie owned neither the Country Club nor the Town House.

After a public auction in 1937, the Town House was purchased and reopened in December by Fay Baker and Tom Brown. Postcards and even gaming chips from the era depict the Town House logo: A tall, bow-legged cowboy bellied up to the bar with well-shaped women on either side of him. The logo’s caption was “The riding lesson.”

The Town House struggled to stay in business with different owners for nearly 20 years. In 1955 it was destroyed by a suspicious fire.

J.C. Penney built a new store in its place on First Street that survived until 1990. Reno may no longer be a cowboy town, but it’s still more country than city.

Super Easy Aces Field Trial

The hot new table game Super Easy Aces begin a field trial tomorrow at Primm Valley Resort in Primm, Nevada, along highway 15 from Las Vegas to Los Angeles.

If you haven’t stopped at Primm, I understand. It used to be just a tiny bar and casino called Whiskey Pete’s with a big two-story facade like Harvey’s Wagon Wheel and George’s Gateway had at South Shore in the 1940s.

When the club opened, it was considered to be Clark County. Later it was called part of Jean, Nevada. In 1996, the town was officially named Primm, Nevada. Why? Well, let’s see.

The town started as a way-station along the long, lonely road from Los Angeles to Las Vegas. Many a vehicle needed a fillup of gas and water during the trip, and Pete McIntyre opened a tiny gas station to supplement his mining income.

With a 10-gallon hat and a pair of holstered pistols, Pete greeted drivers with a wary eye. If he liked you, he explained the Whiskey Pete’s name. Yup, you could fill your car’s tank with gas, and your Mason jar with moonshine, if you passed muster. But back to the Primm name.

Enter Ernie Primm

About the time Pete passed away in 1933, Ernie Primm was running card games in Gardena, California. In 1936 he opened the Monterey Club and kept his eye on Las Vegas, where newly-legalized gaming was taking hold in the small town.

He took some of his cash and purchased the old Whiskey Pete’s gas station and sandwich shop for $15,000. The purchase came with 400 acres of dry desert land Ernie thought might be valuable as a casino center some day. But that someday was 20 years away.

Instead of opening something new in the sand outside Vegas, Ernie headed to Reno, where casino owners were doing quite well, thank you. He refurbished a large retail store directly across from Harold’s Club and fought the Reno City Council for two years, demanding that he be allowed to open a casino on the “other side” of the street from the Big Boy’s. Finally, in 1955, his wishes were granted.

Ernie’s Primadonna Club was very popular, competing on an even footing with Harrah’s, Nevada Club, and Harold’s Club for players. The casino ran for nearly twenty years before it was sold to Del Webb and became the Sahara Reno.

Back at the little gas station on Highway 15 (what used to be Highway 91) from Los Angeles to Las Vegas, the variously named Whiskey Pete’s/Bordertown gas station and diner got a face-lift. Well, a refurbishing and a facade. A great big one.

Opening in 1978, Whiskey Pete’s had a majestic total of 12 motel rooms for weary travelers and a handful of slot machines plus a blackjack table. Ernie passed away in 1981, but his son, Gary, kept the small casino going and found financing to build the Primadonna casino in 1990.

The resort center added Buffalo Bill’s casino in 1994. Today, Affinity Gaming owns the three-casino resort. Visitors are also attracted to the area by a popular golf course and the Las Vegas Outlet Mall.

Affinity Gaming runs a total of ten casinos in Nevada, Colorado, Missouri, and Iowa.

The New Super Easy Aces

The new Super Easy Aces Field trial starts tomorrow at Primm Valley Resort. Game inventor Paul Harry can be seen explaining the exciting game on a feed from the casino featured on KTNV Channel 13 Las Vegas.

In a nutshell, the game is a new table-style offering with a deck of 54 cards. However, the deck consists of just aces, twos, threes, and fours with a couple of jokers. That’s it. Wagering is on a single card dealt to the player (bet on an ace, two, three, or the joker) and a match-bet with the dealer.

The game is fast, easy to play, and a lot of fun to catch some good cards or even a joker for a payoff of 25 to 1. The Dealer Match bet pays 100 to 1.



Legal US Sports Betting


Betting on your favorite team wasn’t legal in Nevada until the 1940s, but you could always find a local bookie who would lay a line for you.

At the Country Club, you could talk to Doc in the bar, any night after 9 pm and get a bet down. Nickle lines were popular, but a dime line (lay $1.10 to win $1.00) was standard. If you were betting a big favorite like the New York Yankees or the San Francisco Seals, you might have to bet more than $2.00 to win $1.00, but that was just to even out the wagers.

Once legalized in Nevada, most casinos offered some type of a book, although it was often one run by Bugsy Siegel and offered just horse racing.

In 1951, the Federal Government implemented a 10% fee on all wagers and Nevada sports books had to be creative to take wagers and make a profit. It was so crazy that in the 1960s there were no sports books in any Las Vegas casinos until Jackie Gaughan opened a book inside his Union Plaza in 1975 when the 10% fee was struck down.

After that, Lefty Rosenthal opened a fancy sports book in the Stardust, where he was running the skim at the casino (as outlined in Vegas and the Mob). The sportsbook was popular but didn’t make enough money to even skim a little, although Lefty allowed friends to make an occasional wager well-after the official start of a game. That, of course, was against the law and against the owner’s wishes, but Lefty didn’t care.

Sports Betting Today

Recently, the US Supreme Court made betting legal nationwide with a 6-3 decision, siding with New Jersey and striking down the Professional and Amateur Sports Protection Act.

With the ruling comes a brave new world for illegal bookmakers, and, I suppose, a safer, more profitable one for legal punters. And who will the legal eagles be? Think William Hill and IGT first.

For the past decade, William Hill has handled more than half of the sports wagering in Nevada, the only US state that allowed legal wagering. Following the decision of the Supreme Court (Murphy v. National Collegiate Athletic Association – May 2018), New Jersey legalized gambling on athletic matches based on a previous state ballot. And, William Hill entered agreements to handle sports wagering at Ocean Resort Casino and Monmouth Park Racetrack. More casinos will be added in the future.

As for IGT, the company processed more than $12 billion in wagers last year. Their US sports wagering deals (through their PlayShot system) may be single partnerships with casinos in Delaware, Mississippi, and West Virginia (and perhaps Maryland quite soon), or could be in partnership with William Hill US.

Up in Rhode Island, the lottery department chose IGT to provide the sports betting platform and William Hill to provide the actual sports betting operation and risk management. The partner’s contract is for a five year period and has a mutual-consent option for two more five-year terms.

Several other smaller operators are already in operation in New Jersey. The strongest will survive.

Online Wagers

In New Jersey, DraftKings Sportsbook went live August 1. They were followed by PlayMGM, SugarHouse, FanDuel, and William Hill. Online wagering is likely to be legal. To make your bets, you have to physically visit one of the casinos and sign up.

West Virginia plans to allow online wagering with some restrictions. Time will tell.

Although 20 states tried to push-through sports wagering proposals, only a few were successful. Delaware already had casinos, horse racing, and was ready for sportsbooks. It was not ready for online bets, so search elsewhere.

Unfortunately, your search in Mississippi won’t yield online wagering only. As results are evaluated by states currently on the betting fence, some may be disappointed by overall results.

Sportsbooks don’t exactly make a casino profitable. They only compliment the bottom line with a small and shaky profit compared to slot machines or table games.

Sports wagering profits are made by splitting the majority of wagers along a point spread or movable money line so regardless of who actually wins a sporting event, the bookie holds a small profit (often as low as 2%).

And when will online poker rooms be legal in all states? Soon, I hope.

The King’s Castle

How’s this for a great shot from the early ’70s? This postcard is from Reno Tahoe Specialty, Inc.

Nate Jacobson built the King’s Castle Casino at Incline Village (Lake Tahoe), Nevada after selling his part of Caesars Palace in 1969. A former insurance salesman, broker, and owner, Jacobson faced charges from the Securities and Exchange Commission relating to the sale of Caesars Palace in 1969.

His club at the lake ran into issues soon after taking a Teamsters loan to build the property, and they continued as the small casino struggled to get a foothold in a resort community that especially in the early 1970s was quite seasonal. When the snow flew, so did most of the tourists. Sure, there were skiers at Incline, but historically at both north and south shores of Lake Tahoe, the skiers were there to ski, not gamble.

Jacobson moved to the Lake from Las Vegas in 1968 after selling his Baltimore Bullets NBA basketball team, turning his insurance agency over to his sons, and leaving his job as President and CDO of Desert Palace, Inc. (Caesars Palace).

What Jacobson built at Incline Village was complete with medieval castle motif including walls, turrets and an indoor dinner theater named Camelot.  Outside, the grounds held a full-size Lady Godiva on a horse and four palace guards.

Who You Gonna Trust?

Unfortunately, real guards inside the casino were not as trustworthy as they might have been.  One problem leading to the casino’s closure in 1972 was a general lack of honesty.  Workers in several areas of the club were stealing from inside.  Two security guards even had keys to the drop boxes from the blackjack tables.  When the boxes went to the soft-count room in an elevator, the guards would help themselves to a few hundred dollars each night.  They got caught because one of them accidentally took a “fill-slip” along with his nightly cut.

When the club closed, 500 workers lost their jobs. The chips from the club went into the hands of several managers, one of whom was supposed to dump them in the lake. He didn’t make it there with all the chips, which is nice for collectors.

The club reopened in 1974 and lasted less than a year under Judd McIntosh.  Later, Jimmie Hume took charge of managing the club for a year or so until it was purchased by Hyatt Hotels in May of 1975.

Hyatt brought in Jack Hardy as general manager, and he oversaw the renovation and reopening of the property, and since that time, the club has been successfully run as the Hyatt Regency at Incline-Village.

Searchlight, Nevada and "The King of Casinos"

Don’t feel bad if you’ve never heard of Searchlight, Nevada. It’s the proverbial black spot on a map. It’s an unincorporated town 13 miles square somehow holding 500 hearty souls. To be fair, ah, well, it’s a dot, that’s all.

Really, if you are accidentally in Needles or Blyth, California, you might drift off towards US 95, but more likely, you already found Laughlin and did some gambling. That’s cool, but if Las Vegas calls, you need to backtrack to US 95 and take a 100-mile trip where you’ll pass nothing but sand and sage and other cars. This is unless you miss the stoplight in Searchlight. Bummer.

And, as you roll through town you’ll see that the Searchlight Nugget just closed after 40 years. Double bummer! Of course, there used to be an even more famous place – Willie Martello’s El Rey Club and Bordello, which had opened in 1946,  but a fire ended that fun run in 1962.

Along the way, Willie tried his best to grow the club and make a dream in the desert come true, no matter the cost or the consequences. By that, I mean sure, there were prostitutes, and yes, he did get his gambling license revoked, but that happens to all small club owners, right? Maybe not.

At any rate, while Willie wasn’t the man who actually started the club, he was the man who made it as the King of Casinos in the tiny town (unincorporated, yes) of Searchlight. To learn more about Willie, you need to read Andy Martello’s book, The King of Casinos, which is available in paperback from Amazon and other places.

Believe me, this is a great read. Don’t believe me? The book has 64 reviews at Amazon and 95% of them are 5-star. That’s amazing. So’s the story Andy tells.

Thanks for reading – Al W Moe


Reno’s Northern Club

Reno’s Northern Club was one of the first casinos in the state licensed for gaming in 1931. Located on the ground floor along Center Street in Reno, the casino was run by Felix Turillas Sr. and John Etchebarren in the Commercial Hotel. Women were rare players in the 4,000 square-foot club when it opened with two craps games, Hazard, Faro, 21, and poker tables. The three slot machines were an afterthought, and rarely had more than a few coins run through them daily. Across the street, clubs like the Dog House (billed as “The Divorcee’s Haven) had stage shows that ran 24-hours a day featuring nearly-nude fan dancers and strippers.

Turillas was a colorful, cantankerous character who also ran the gaming at Lawton’s Springs where he was charged by pro-hi’s with violating the Volstead Act (Prohibition of alcohol sales) in the 1920s, but his buddy Bill Graham got the charges dropped. Turillas also owned the Northern Hotel and liked to deal poker, often with George Wingfield in the game.

The Northern Club added a Big-Six Wheel and Keno to its gambling mix and ran successfully until it was sold to Jack Fugit, who redecorated and reopening as the Barn. The small club struggled as the casinos fronting on South Virginia Street like Harrah’s, Harold’s and the Nevada Club began to take business from those on Commercial Row and Center Streets.

In 1944, a man with some off-shore gaming and bar experience in San Diego named Wilbur Clark purchased the Barn. Although he had only a few thousand dollars of his own money to invest, he was backed by partners from the mid-west as well as the east coast, variously reported as Moe Dalitz and Frank Costello. He spent their money freely. The most striking attribute of the Gay-Nineties motif club were the wall fixtures, eight-foot-tall nude ladies who appeared to be holding the ceiling in place.

Wilbur Clark Moves to Las Vegas

The following year Wilbur Clark moved to the El Rancho Casino, the first casino on the old highway to Los Angeles that became known as the Las Vegas Strip. He fronted the casino for Frank Costello, and “skim” went to Meyer Lansky. Thomas Hull, who owned the El Rancho, took a piece of the Bonanza Club in Reno.

His ownership there was very short-lived, and he sold his interest to Lou Wertheimer, who came to town from Detroit, where he ran casinos for the Detroit Partnership. Wertheimer sold his ownership at the Bonanza when the Mapes Casino was ready to be opened in 1947.

The Bonanza stayed in business under several partnerships, but the gaming on Center Street continued to play second fiddle to South Virginia Street and the only person interested in the building was Bill Harrah, who purchased it in 1952. He opened as Harrah’s Bingo in 1953. Today, part of Harrah’s Reno is located at the corner of Second and Center Streets.

Thanks for Reading – Al W Moe

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