The bombing at Harvey's Resort Hotel in South Lake Tahoe, Nevada, on August 26, 1980, remains one of the most elaborate and devastating acts of domestic terrorism in the United States.

This incident not only shocked the nation due to its intricacy and destructive power but also highlighted significant lapses in security and response strategies.

The letter next to the fake copy machine at Harvey’s Resort Hotel on Aug. 26, 1980, started with a warning. “Do not move or tilt this bomb, because the mechanism controlling the detonators in it will set it off at a movement of less than .01 of the open end Ricter scale.”

A bomb threat in Tahoe’s casino district was not unchartered territory in 1980. The marriage of money, booze, hope and loss would occasionally birth a third-rate extortion attempt that almost always ended with the discovery of a fake device or no bomb at all. But investigators would soon learn the 1,200-pound device on the second floor of Harvey’s - where about 600 people were staying ahead of Labor Day weekend - was anything but third-rate.

It was the beginning of a failed shakedown that triggered the most intense 35-hour period in the lake’s modern history, thrusting Tahoe into the national media spotlight and forever altering how law enforcement dealt with threats of improvised explosives. No lives were lost, but the blast blew a chasm through the building and initiated a year-long investigation that ended with the arrest of the bomb maker and his accomplices.

The Harvey’s Resort bombing was considered the largest domestic bombing in the U.S. until the 1993 World Trade Center bombing.

Employees at the casino and hotel built by Harvey Gross were the first to discover the device in the early morning hours of Aug. 26. Men sporting white jumpsuits wheeled what, according to the FBI, appeared to be an IBM copy machine onto the second floor of the casino where the executive offices were housed.

In addition to the direct warning and ensuing explanation of the bomb’s complexity, the three-page letter included a demand: $3 million in used one-hundred dollar bills.

“I repeat do not try to move, disarm, or enter this bomb. It will explode.”

It did not take long to determine that the bomb was not an empty threat.

The intricate details described in the letter signaled to investigators that they were not dealing with a spontaneous swindler. The letter claimed that the bomb had at least eight triggering mechanisms that would prevent it from being moved or taken apart. It could never be disarmed without triggering an explosion. And there was enough TNT inside to damage neighboring Harrah’s Casino across U.S. 50, the letter claimed.

There was shock and awe just as to the size of it and as to the apparent degree of sophistication.

Photos and X-rays confirmed the bomb, made of two steel boxes underneath the cloth copy machine disguise, contained about 1,000 pounds of dynamite. Law enforcement initiated a multi-pronged response to secure the area, eliminate the threat of explosion and catch the bomb maker.

John Birges had all the makings of an arch-villain from a James Bond movie: He was a brilliant inventor and businessman with a fondness for betting large sums of money at the blackjack tables; he was a ruthless perfectionist who would not tolerate weakness in those around him, even his own family; he even had an authentic Hungarian accent.

And, like an over-the-top movie antagonist, he would construct an unstoppable doomsday weapon that he planned to use as the centerpiece in an overly complicated plot to extort $3 million from Harvey’s Resort Hotel in Stateline.

John Birges decided to recuperate his heavy gambling losses (estimated at over one million dollars) by planting a bomb.

No one knows exactly when Birges made the transition from retired landscape contractor and restaurant owner to criminal mastermind, but his plan began to materialize around October of 1979, when he rented a studio apartment, just a mile north of Harvey’s.

Harvey’s owner Harry Gross wouldn’t pay the ransom even after the FBI told him that the odds were stacked against them successfully defusing the bomb.

Gross was more concerned about his employees losing work than the potential damage to his multimillion-dollar casino, but he didn’t budge in his decision. Gross wouldn’t pay even after the FBI told him that the odds were stacked against them successfully defusing the bomb.

To buy time while technicians worked toward a safe solution for the sophisticated explosive, instead of bagging up genuine $100 bills to load on the helicopter, plain, green-colored paper was cut to the size of a bill and bundled with real notes on the outside to give the impression of bona-fide stacks of money. It all came to naught, however, because the pilot never saw Birges’ strobe light, despite circling the area for more than an hour. Unable to contact the pilot, the frustrated extortionists drove back to Fresno.

Meanwhile, after 36 hours of analysis and strategy planning, the explosive experts at Harvey’s realized that they had no good options on what to do with the bomb. They were stumped by its extraordinarily complex design and seamless construction. They had been cautioned that it would blow at the slightest touch or movement. The evil genius behind it all had written that law enforcement had just 24 hours to deliver the ransom.

To mitigate potential damage, the device was surrounded with bags of sand. Nearby streets were cleared by the Nevada National Guard while police moved gamblers in nearby casinos away from windows facing Harvey’s.

With low confidence, a small explosive charge designed to instantly disconnect the elaborate switch system from the dynamite was deployed. Unfortunately, this render-safe procedure failed and triggered the detonators.

Suddenly, a powerful blast ripped through the building. The massive detonation created a five-story cavity 40 to 50 feet in diameter in the center of the gaming floor and hotel tower. Inspectors found buckled girders, cracked walls, twisted rebar, dangling toilets and destroyed gaming machines.

Harvey's was originally opened in 1944 and operated by Sacramento meat wholesaler Harvey Gross and his wife Llewellyn.

Gross had built his gaming empire with decades of wit, hard work and sweat, from a one-room log cabin on Highway 50 called Harvey’s Wagon Wheel Saloon & Gambling Hall into South Lake Tahoe’s first high-rise casino-hotel tower with 11 floors and 197 rooms.

In 1996, at the age of 74, the bomber John Birges died of liver cancer at the Southern Nevada Correctional Center, 16 years and a day after the bombing.

The bombing at Harvey's Resort Hotel on August 26, 1980, remains a stark reminder of the potential for domestic terrorism and the devastating impact it can have. John Birges Sr.'s elaborate plot, driven by personal vendetta and financial desperation, showcased the deadly intersection of technical expertise and malicious intent.

While the incident resulted in significant property damage, the successful evacuation and response efforts ensured that there were no casualties, demonstrating the critical importance of preparedness and coordination in the face of such threats. The legacy of this bombing continues to inform and shape security practices and counter-terrorism efforts to this day.

Harvey's management announced on April 24, 2001, that it would be acquired by Harrah's Entertainment (later Caesars Entertainment) for $625 million.

April 2025 UPDATE -

Harveys Lake Tahoe will undergo a $160 million upgrade and renamed Caesars Republic Lake Tahoe Hotel and Casino, Caesars Entertainment announced April 30, 2025.

" Lake Tahoe is a stunning destination, and we’re elated to bring a new world-class resort worthy of its allure to the lakefront," said Anthony Carano, president and chief operating officer of Caesars Entertainment, in a statement.