“The Last Show at The Sands” – A Rat Pack Story
The Copa Room at The Sands Hotel was alive with the sound of clinking martini glasses, the murmur of high-rolling gamblers, and the smoky laughter of men in sharkskin suits with their impeccably dressed dames. It was 1967, the tail end of an era, but for Frank Sinatra, Dean Martin, Sammy Davis Jr., Joey Bishop, and Peter Lawford, it was just another night under the bright lights of Las Vegas.
Frank stood at the edge of the stage, the microphone resting effortlessly in his grip as he crooned the last lines of My Way. The audience—a mix of Hollywood’s elite, mobsters with deep pockets, and star-struck tourists—hung on every note, every syllable. Behind him, Dean Martin leaned casually against the grand piano, a cigarette dangling from his lips, while Sammy twirled a cane in his hand, ever the showman. Joey Bishop threw in a wisecrack, drawing laughter, while Peter Lawford, looking sharp in his tailored tux, played the role of the Hollywood aristocrat.
Tonight wasn’t just another show. It was a moment in history.
The Night That Never Ended
As soon as the final applause rang out, the Pack retreated to the VIP lounge, a hidden haven behind the casino floor. The air was thick with cigar smoke, the tables adorned with half-drunk glasses of Jack Daniel’s, Glenlivet, and whatever else the night required.
“You know,” Dean slurred playfully, pouring another drink, “if I had a nickel for every drink I had tonight, I’d be a millionaire… oh wait, I am a millionaire.”
Laughter erupted. Sammy, ever the lightning bolt, drummed his fingers on the table. “Man, what a crowd tonight. I saw a couple of Kennedy boys out there, probably making sure Peter here is still on good behavior.”
Peter chuckled nervously, swirling his bourbon. His connection to the Kennedys had been both a blessing and a curse. Once upon a time, he had been the bridge between Sinatra and Jack Kennedy, but after the President took office and Bobby Kennedy’s war on organized crime intensified, Sinatra found himself cut off. It had been a sore spot, and Peter knew better than to push it.
Frank exhaled a plume of cigarette smoke, his blue eyes sharp. “Forget them. You hear who’s in town? Giancana’s boys are making rounds again. Guess they still think Vegas belongs to them.”
A silence settled. They all knew the score. The Rat Pack’s success in Vegas had been partly due to the mafia’s silent backing. The Sands, like most of the major casinos, had mob money woven into its very foundation. Sinatra, with his long-standing friendship with Sam Giancana, had always walked a fine line between Hollywood and the underworld.
Dean sipped his scotch. “You worry too much, Frank. The only mob I’m worried about is the one that stormed me at the roulette table earlier. All I wanted was a damn drink.”
“That’s because you owe half of them money, pal,” Joey quipped, earning another round of laughter.
A Dame, a Song, and a Secret Deal
In the corner of the room, Angie Dickinson sat with a drink in her hand, her blonde hair cascading over her shoulders. She had been with Sinatra on and off, one of the many women who floated in and out of his orbit. But tonight, she had a look in her eyes—something was different.
“You boys better enjoy this while you can,” she said, her voice smooth but laced with an edge. “Vegas is changing. These casino owners are getting tired of playing second fiddle to the wiseguys.”
Frank raised an eyebrow. “What do you know, doll?”
“Just a little birdie whispering in my ear,” she teased. “Sands is getting sold soon. Howard Hughes is coming in. The mob’s grip is slipping. And when that happens, well, some of you might not like how the dice roll.”
Dean gave a low whistle. “Hughes, huh? That germaphobe’s gonna run this town like a damn bank.”
Frank didn’t respond, but his mind was racing. If Hughes took over The Sands, it meant no more open doors, no more backroom deals with Giancana’s men. It meant the Rat Pack’s kingdom was about to be sanitized, corporate, and clean—just another cog in the Vegas machine.
The Deal with the Devil
Later that night, as the others drank into the early hours, Frank slipped out. A black Cadillac was waiting outside, the driver standing with a cigarette between his fingers.
“Mr. Sinatra, you’re expected.”
Frank climbed in. The car pulled away from The Sands and headed to a quiet villa on the outskirts of town. Inside, under dim lighting, Sam Giancana sat at a poker table, a deck of cards in his hands.
“You look worried, Frankie,” the mob boss said, his voice smooth but firm.
“Should I be?” Sinatra asked, pouring himself a drink from the sideboard.
Giancana leaned forward. “Vegas ain’t what it used to be. Hughes is coming in. Feds are crawling all over the place. The golden age? It’s slipping, pal.”
Frank swirled his whiskey. “Then we need to make sure we still have a seat at the table.”
Giancana smirked. “You always think like a player. That’s why I like you. But listen… stay clean for a while. We’re gonna handle things our way.”
Frank nodded, but he knew. The game was changing. And even Sinatra couldn’t croon his way out of this one.
The End of an Era
The following week, Howard Hughes officially acquired The Sands. The Rat Pack performed a few more times, but the magic was fading. Vegas wasn’t the same without the wiseguys in the backroom, the late-night booze-fueled roasts, the feeling that anything could happen in a city built on chaos.
Dean Martin took a step back. Sammy focused on Broadway. Peter Lawford drifted into obscurity, his Kennedy connections severed. Joey Bishop found work in television. And Frank? Frank fought to keep the magic alive.
But that night, as he stood on the stage one last time, the lights dimmed, and he sang One for My Baby (And One More for the Road) with a quiet sadness.
Vegas was changing.
And so was the Rat Pack.
Epilogue
Decades later, The Sands would be demolished. The ghosts of the Rat Pack’s golden age lingered in the neon reflections, in the cigarette smoke curling through casino air, in the echoes of laughter and smooth, honeyed voices. The world had moved on, but for those who remembered, there would never be another time quite like that.
Vegas had been theirs.
And they had done it their way.
A History of the Rat Pack
The Rat Pack was an “informal” group of entertainers in the late 1950s and 1960s, known for their performances in Las Vegas and their camaraderie both on and off stage. Here’s a breakdown of various aspects of the Rat Pack:
The Members:
Frank Sinatra: Often regarded as the leader, known for his singing and acting career.
Dean Martin: Noted for his laid-back persona and smooth singing voice.
Sammy Davis Jr.: A versatile performer known for his singing, dancing, acting, and impressions.
Peter Lawford: An actor who was married to Patricia Kennedy, linking the group to political influence.
Joey Bishop: The group’s comedian, often overshadowed by the others but vital for setting the comedic tone.
The Songs:
The Rat Pack was known for performing a mix of jazz, swing, and pop standards. Some notable songs include:
Frank Sinatra: “My Way”, “New York, New York”, “Fly Me to the Moon”.
Dean Martin: “Everybody Loves Somebody”, “That’s Amore”, “Volare”.
Sammy Davis Jr.: “The Candy Man”, “Mr. Bojangles”, “What Kind of Fool Am I?”.
They often performed these songs in medleys or ad-libbed during live shows, bringing a unique flair to each performance.
The Performances:
Las Vegas Shows: The Rat Pack made The Sands Hotel’s Copa Room famous with their nightly performances. These shows were characterized by their spontaneity, humor, and improvisational style, where members would often roast each other on stage.
Film: They starred together in several films, notably “Ocean’s 11” (1960), “Sergeants 3” (1962), and “Robin and the 7 Hoods” (1964). Their films often reflected their on-stage chemistry and antics.
The Women:
The Rat Pack was often surrounded by notable women:
Marilyn Monroe: Had relationships with some members, especially Sinatra.
Shirley MacLaine: Starred in films with them and was considered a close associate.
Angie Dickinson: Starred in “Ocean’s 11” and had a romantic relationship with Sinatra.
Juliet Prowse: Known for her dance performances and relationship with Sinatra.
Judy Garland: Part of the original Rat Pack circle in the 1950s.
Lauren Bacall: Coined the term “Rat Pack” for the original group around Humphrey Bogart.
The Mafia Connections:
Frank Sinatra, in particular, had well-documented connections with organized crime figures, notably Sam Giancana. These ties were partly why President John F. Kennedy, initially a friend of Sinatra due to Lawford’s marriage into the Kennedy family, distanced himself from the group after becoming president.
The Rat Pack’s association with the mafia was often through the casinos in Las Vegas where they performed. This relationship was sometimes beneficial for their careers but also led to scrutiny, especially during Robert F. Kennedy’s crackdown on organized crime as Attorney General.
Their Legacy
The Rat Pack’s legacy includes not just their entertainment contributions but also their cultural impact, embodying a particular era’s style, charm, and controversy. Their performances and lifestyle have been romanticized and critiqued, making them enduring figures in American pop culture.
