The successful casino man of the early postwar years was usually a sharp operator who kept his nose clean, paid his people, and understood that a good reputation was worth more than a fast score. Richard "Pick" Hobson was that kind of man.
Hobson was born in Illinois on May 15, 1911, grew up in Corning, California, and came to Reno in 1929 just two years before gambling was legalized, and pretty soon he was right in the middle of the action. He started out as a dealer and floorman at the Palace Club from 1931 to 1942, while simultaneously running his first place, the Columbo Night Club, from 1936 to 1940.
Over the course of his career, Hobson owned and operated ten clubs and casinos, including Pick's Club, the Nevada Club , the Frontier Club, the Overland Hotel and Casino, the Cosmo Club, the Gold Club, and the Topaz Lodge.
When Pick Hobson’s Overland Hotel and Casino opened in 1933, it was just two years after the state had legalized gambling, and among the earliest legal gaming establishments in Nevada. Hobson planted his flag early and built something with staying power. The Overland billed itself as the “Last Frontier of the Old West,” with historic paintings of cowboys on the walls and the kind of atmosphere that felt like it had been there long before you arrived and would be there long after you left.
The house specialty was keno, and the $25,000 jackpot drew players from across the region. In a city like Reno that was built on long odds, that number had a way of keeping people in their seats.
In an industry that attracted its share of men who skimmed, stiffed, and skipped town, Pick Hobson ran things the right way. Maybe because before he was a high roller, he was a rancher and cowboy and no stranger to putting in an honest day’s work.
The casino closed for the final time in 1977. When it did, Hobson made sure to handle it the way he'd handled everything else. He paid every single employee every dollar they were owed, including vacation pay.
After the Riverside went into bankruptcy in 1986, Hobson retired to his trailer home on 17 acres in Beckwourth, California. Warren Nelson's line on that: "In the end he got caught trying to keep too many things going. After that he kept a low profile. Naturally, it broke his heart."
