LAS VEGAS: With less than 48 hours until one of this city's
favorite but rarest of spectacles, the principal players stood
around a long table on Sunday morning readying their props and
showing no traces of stage fright.
Well, maybe just a little, considering that the Loizeaux clan
still had to finish threading several hundred eight-inch sticks
of dynamite with yellow ignition rope and race through the stripped-down
carcass of the New Frontier Hotel-Casino stuffing the explosives
into the correct pillars.
"We've got a lot to do," said Mark Loizeaux, 58, whose wife,
son, two daughters and a daughter's boyfriend worked beside
him. "But we'll get it done. We always do."
Thousands of onlookers are expected to crowd along the Las
Vegas Strip at 2 a.m. Tuesday to watch as the Loizeauxes set
off a chain reaction of explosions that will force a storied
but tired property to collapse upon itself. A fireworks show
is planned, too, but the main attraction is clearly the destruction
of the New Frontier to make way for a splashier edifice.
The Loizeauxes are the first family of a decidedly distinct
business that started with Mr. Loizeaux's late father, Jack
Loizeaux, who as a Baltimore forestry worker realized in the
late 1940s that dynamite was the easiest and fastest way to
remove the roots of trees that had died from Dutch elm disease.
That discovery led to a full-time job blowing up tree roots
until others started asking him to knock down man-made structures,
too. He went on to blast coal tipples, low bridges and eventually
buildings.
As business picked up, Jack Loizeaux founded Controlled Demolition
Inc.; his wife was the first to use the term "implosion" as
a softer way to describe using explosives to make a building
crumble of its own weight. Jack Loizeaux's two sons later took
over his business, and now several of his grandchildren are
on the job, too. The staff of Controlled Demolition, a multimillion-dollar
business, includes about a dozen people, half of whom are family
members who also share a 45-acre estate in Baltimore County.
"One of the reasons why this is a family business is anybody
in this building is capable of taking all our lives with one
mistake at any point in time," said Mark Loizeaux, who lost
much of his hearing and was badly banged up in 1973 when an
unspent piece of dynamite exploded as he worked in a debris
pile after an implosion. "There needs to be a high level of
trust."
After the New Frontier, these Grim Reapers of architecture
are scheduled to jet off to Bal Harbour, Fla., to demolish two
shuttered towers of a Sheraton. By year's end they are to take
out a grain elevator in Philadelphia, a 10-foot-tall below-ground
structure at the Escondida Copper Mine in Chile and the Susquehanna
River Bridge near Harrisburg, Pa., which is being replaced.
Other notable projects have included the Kingdome in Seattle
and the remains of the Alfred P. Murrah Federal Building in
Oklahoma City after the 1995 bombing.
"It's always been normal because I grew up in it, but of course
your friends always think it's extremely odd," said Devon Loizeaux,
a daughter. "I get to travel the world. I'm 26 and I've been
to 11 different countries; we might be going to Korea soon."
All that is fun and challenging, Mr. Loizeaux said, but the
Vegas jobs draw the most attention because the structures being
destroyed are not especially old and are always replaced by
something more grand.
"Only in Vegas do structures this young come down, because
time is money here and money is what Vegas is all about," Mr.
Loizeaux said. "The purveyors here understand what it takes;
they know how to sacrifice a structure if they can replace it
with something that's going to be more beneficial, a bigger
draw, a little glitzier, a little more glam involved."
This time, the New Frontier, which opened as the Hotel Last
Frontier in 1942 and was the second resort on what would become
the Strip, is to be replaced by the Plaza, a $2 billion hotel-casino
from the Israeli owners of the Plaza Hotel in New York City.
The New Frontier, whose name, theme and owner had changed
several times, was notable as the first spot Elvis Presley played
in Las Vegas in 1956 and as having been once owned by Howard
Hughes. But more recently it was known as the site of a six-year
strike in the 1990s by culinary workers, and the hotel had deteriorated
to the point that the casino developer Steve Wynn last year
called it "the single biggest toilet in Las Vegas."
The remarkable precision of the Loizeauxes' work - the 32-story
Stardust Hotel-Casino collapsed in less than 10 seconds in March
- keeps them atop the field, said Alan Feldman, spokesman for
MGM Mirage, which hired the Loizeauxes most recently to demolish
the Boardwalk Hotel-Casino on the Strip.
"They do what they do with the craftsmanship of a great shoemaker
or carpenter, someone who does this fine, detailed work," Mr.
Feldman said. "It just so happens their fine detailed work is
taking down big complex buildings."