How Reno Lost Its Opportunity for a Modern Neon Line Resort
Eight years later, the only glimmer comes from empty lots, chain-link fences, and a rebranded hotel that still carries the bones of the 1960s Sands instead of a new resort.
Oct 22, 2025
Today, a required two-year progress report on the 20-year Neon Line District Development Agreement is before the City Council. Here’s a look at what could have been.
A Half-Billion Dollar What-If
When Jeff Jacobs of Jacobs Entertainment bought the Sands Regency in 2017 for about $30 million, he promised to transform the west end of downtown Reno into a glimmering “Neon Line District.”
Eight years later, the only glimmer comes from empty lots, chain-link fences, and a rebranded hotel that still carries the bones of the 1960s Sands instead of a new resort.
Jacobs has now spent over $500 million—an astonishing sum that could have built an entirely new resort from the ground up. Instead, much of that investment sits on dirt.
Despite the dramatic renderings, the J Resort does not look like this. It’s the worn-out old Sands Regency with a new paint job and some new carpet.
The Original Opportunity
The Sands once held roughly 800 rooms, built in awkward stages from the Johnson Administration through the Reagan era.
Renovating it was always going to be costly: asbestos removal, dated wiring, structural oddities, low ceilings, and plumbing that barely met modern codes.
By 2017, the smarter play would have been clear to most developers: tear it down and build new.
Construction-cost studies show a modern 800+ room full-service casino resort could have been built for roughly $400–$550 million, including structured parking and amenities—about what Jacobs has already spent.
💥 What the J Resort Flood Reveals About the Sands Remodel
The Sands buildings are old and decrepit. The renovation was a disaster. They ran into all sorts of problems.
What Jacobs Did Instead
Rather than focus on one flagship project, Jacobs went on a buying spree:
Purchased more than 100 parcels between West Street and Keystone Avenue.
Demolished 17 motels and other structures, leaving tracts of bare ground.
Installed sculptures and LED art pieces to brand the area as the “Neon Line District,” his own made-up marketing name.
Announced phase after phase of investment, each emphasizing vision over execution, with nothing much getting built.
Today, those properties remain largely undeveloped, fenced off, and producing no tax revenue or tourism draw.
Meanwhile, the J Resort—the renamed Sands—remains fundamentally the same footprint, with cosmetic upgrades and a few art installations. It’s a facelift, not a transformation.
The Cost of Sprawl
Jacobs’ rebuild of Sands cost between $400 to $500 million. A new 800-room integrated resort could have been built by 2022 for the same amount. The Neon Line Strategy, which cost over $500 million, is full of empty lots amid rising public skepticism. Had Jacobs concentrated his capital, Reno would have a new resort rivaling the Grand Sierra and Peppermill—a modern, energy-efficient resort with conference space, rooftop venues, and retail frontage capable of pulling tourism.
Instead, the city has an expensive land bank, and a developer is publicly seeking public funding to complete what private promises began.
Jacobs Neon Line: Promises Unfulfilled in West Reno
Jacobs promised everything and then didn’t deliver.
Political and Community Fallout
City officials, especially Mayor Hillary Schieve, hailed Jacobs as Reno’s savior. But by 2025, residents were calling the cleared corridor “Jacobs Desert.” Affordable motels vanished, and nothing replaced them.
The optics are unmistakable: a billionaire developer holding the city’s west end hostage to “market timing” while taxpayers wait for results.
At the 10/22/2025 Reno City Council meeting, two agenda items reveal the status of the city’s deal with Jacobs Entertainment. The first is a required two-year progress report on the 20-year Neon Line District Development Agreement, which granted Jacobs up to $3.9 million in city credits for infrastructure and pedestrian improvements; so far, less than a quarter of that has been used, and key public features like streetlights, signage, and walkways remain unbuilt. The second is the annual Glow Plaza operations report, the only opportunity for the public to hear how Jacobs’ downtown entertainment venue is being managed under its conditional use permit. These items test whether City Hall intends to hold Jacobs accountable for tangible progress or continue a pattern of acceptance without results.
🚨 New Jacobs TIF Proposal: $21M Ask Tied to Affordable Housing, Festivals, and a Bigger J Resort
Jacobs needs tax incentives to proceed with “affordable housing.”
A Developer’s Calculus
From a business standpoint, Jacobs’s move is speculative. Owning contiguous land grants him control. Land values might rise through the removal of blight. By waiting, he can time construction for lower interest rates or negotiate tax-increment financing. But that’s speculation, not redevelopment. Reno didn’t need a speculator—it needed a builder.
The Road Not Taken
If Jacobs had demolished the Sands in 2017 and started fresh:
Reno could have enjoyed a grand reopening by 2022.
Hundreds of construction and hospitality jobs would exist.
The project could have sparked organic redevelopment around it rather than clearing everything pre-emptively.
Instead, we have a “district” with no streetscape, a “resort” without renewal, and a “vision” without execution.
The tragedy isn’t just that Jacobs spent half a billion dollars.
It’s also that Reno has nothing to show for it.