Beneath the neon glow of Las Vegas, on the bustling strip that never sleeps, a determined cadre of hospitality workers took to the streets, channeling their frustrations into a chorus of voices seeking to be heard. The Thursday evening air, typically filled with the sounds of revelry, took on a different tone as 23 union members and leaders, armed with nothing but their conviction, were met by the firm hand of law enforcement.
At the heart of this act of defiance was Ted Pappageorge, the resilient Secretary-Treasurer of the Culinary Union, whose image became a beacon for those in the picket. Their voices rose in unison, a symphony of dissent that began on Harmon Avenue and crescendoed as they occupied the porte-cochere of Virgin Hotels Las Vegas, a typically welcoming threshold now marked by protest.
This was not just a demonstration, but an orchestrated act of non-violent civil disobedience, a strategic choice by the Culinary Union to intensify pressure as they wrestled to secure a new five-year contract with the hotel. They were fighting against the fading memories of their last agreement, which had dissipated into the hot desert air in June 2023.
Among the many faces of resolve were Pappageorge and President Diana Valles, standing in solidarity with their fellow union members. Pappageorge didn’t mince his words: “We took negotiations to the streets this evening to send a clear message to Virgin Las Vegas that it’s time to do right by their workers.”
Their plight was punctuated by the grim reality of stalled negotiations, underscored by a proposal that seemed to mock the very nature of a wage increase, offering $0 in raises for the initial three years of the sought-after five-year term. Pappageorge called the company’s stance and treatment of workers “unacceptable.”
“It is disappointing that we haven’t seen real movement,” he lamented, reflecting the collective sentiment.
The frustration among the workers was palpable, with personal tales of discontent emanating from the picket line. Pamela Holmes, an usher, shared her sense of determination underscored by union support: “We won’t give up fighting until we win the best contract ever.”
Isabel Gonzalez, a guest room attendant, added her voice to the chorus, demanding a fair deal: “Why won’t the company do what’s right by us?”
The demonstration was not without precedent. In May, a two-day strike—the first of its kind in over two decades—was launched against Virgin Las Vegas, a property held under the wing of JC Hospitality, LLC.
The hotel’s management sought to respond through an official statement, expressing disappointment and asserting efforts to negotiate in good faith. Despite their assurances of continued excellent service, there was a clear dissonance between the company’s narrative of unresponsive union members and the urgent calls for justice from those bearing the union’s banners on the streets.
Yet, amid the buzz of slot machines and the clinking of cocktail glasses, the picket carried on, a testament to the union’s determination to not only fight for what they believe was just but also to stand united in the face of adversity, hearts beating to the rhythm of resolve and solidarity.
