The Hiltons: The True Story of an American Dynasty Read Free Page A

He’d been alone for so long, it had gotten to the point where his greatest passions seemed to take the form of inanimate objects; he now referred to his hotels as his women. “She’s a great dame, that one,” he would say of one of his Texas holdings, the Abilene Hilton. “No woman can match her,” he would opine of his Dallas Hilton. “Luckily for me, she could not find a better suitor,” he observed of the Sir Francis Drake in San Francisco. Besides his religion, the only thing that truly mattered to him—that gave him the most pleasure—was his work. Might that one day change? He was open to the idea, but not particularly hopeful.
    Despite reservations about any lack of romance, Conrad Hilton knew he had a good life. He deserved his success; he had worked hard for it. But still… something was missing. However, it wouldn’t be long before Conrad would once again do what he had often done whenever he felt a lack of something in his personal life: He would go about the business of filling the void. And even though he would one day look back on this time and admit that he probably should have just left well enough alone—some of the choices he was about to make would haunt him for the rest of his life—he wasn’t the kind of man to play it safe. He was shrewd; he liked to take chances. He wanted to live his life for all it was worth, damn the consequences!

Humble Beginnings
    T o fully understand Conrad Nicholson Hilton’s remarkable journey from humble beginnings to the very pinnacle of fame and success, one must hark back to his father, August Halvorsen Hilton—known as Gus and born in Norway on August 21, 1854—a robust, imposing Norwegian immigrant, and to his mother, Mary Genevieve Laufersweiler—born in Iowa on December 3, 1861—a small, soft-spoken, deeply devout Catholic of German heritage. They were married on Lincoln’s birthday in 1885 in Fort Dodge. Gus passed along to his son his determined work ethic and driving ambition; Mary provided his moral compass and spiritual path.
    Though devoted and utterly committed to each other, the Hiltons were actually polar opposites—in appearance, temperament, personality, and demeanor. Gus was a big man, over six feet and handsome as a matinee idol with his deeply set dark eyes and well-groomed handlebar mustache. Mary wore her chestnut hair parted in the middle and pulled into a severe bun; a couple of years after marrying, she would go gray though still a young woman. She had luminescent brown eyes, a strong nose, and a full mouth against a round face. He was loud and opinionated; she was quiet and respectful. Both were devoted to the rigid tenets of the Catholic Church. This was the solid foundation upon which they would build their long life together.
    Following the birth of his sister Felice almost two years earlier, Conrad was born on a snowy Christmas Day 1887. Named for his maternal grandfather—Conrad Laufersweiler—and the Fort Dodge doctor—Nicholson—who delivered him, he was the second of nine children (four daughters and five sons), all within an eleven-year period. He would be known by all as simply “Connie.” Most of the children were born in the adobe dwelling that also housed Gus’s general store, A. H. Hilton, in San Antonio, Territory of New Mexico, located in the midst of vast high deserts and stark mountains, halfway between Albuquerque and El Paso, Texas, near the Rio Grande.
    Conrad looked like a force to be reckoned with, even as a youngster. Photographs of the time show a sturdy boy with big ears, carefully groomed brown hair, intense eyes, and a downward-sloping smile. While others in family portraits are seen grinning, Conrad appears serious and focused. Because he was the family’s firstborn son, he was expected to take his place in the general store while still quite young. Thus it was at his father’s elbow that he began his apprenticeship into the world of business, mastering the laws of supply and demand and