Nov. 28--Casino owner Ralph Engelstad, the erstwhile all-American hockey goalie who built casinos in Biloxi and Las Vegas, died late Tuesday after a long bout with cancer. 

He was 72. 

His wife of 48 years, Betty Engelstad, said her husband was at their home in Las Vegas and passed away in his sleep. 

Mrs. Engelstad also said the Imperial Palace and the other Engelstad properties would continue to operate under the Engelstad family trust. 

"Ralph always thought of all of you as his extended family," she wrote in a letter to management and employees of the Imperial Palace. 

Engelstad, a recognized philanthropist, was a controversial, flamboyant figure. In Biloxi he locked horns with the city over the height of the Imperial Palace. It wound up two floors higher than the city thought it would be. 

His collection of fascist memorabilia, including a Nazi parade car, also was a source of controversy, as were two fascist-themed parties he hosted in Las Vegas. He later took out ads and called the parties "stupid" and "insensitive." 

More recently he'd been involved in the debate over the nickname of the University of North Dakota, the "Fighting Sioux." 

Engelstad, a 1954 graduate who had been a star goalie, fought to keep the nickname. He had the logo emblazoned on the $100 million arena he financed that bears his name. 

"As controversial as he was, he was one of the best people to visit with, just to hang out with," said Biloxi attorney Britt Singletary, who along with his wife, Tina, have represented Engelstad since 1993. 

Singletary called Engelstad "the last of a breed" of private casino-hotel owners. 

Engelstad donated the Gen. George Patton papers, valued at $1.45 million, to the University of North Dakota, and bought 2,000 wheelchairs for North Dakotans. He donated a $10 million hockey arena to his hometown, Thief River Falls, Minn., and contributed to charities for children, veterans, seniors and animal causes. 

"Very few people knew how generous he was. I remember one time in Las Vegas we were sitting at a bar he liked to frequent. Every one of his employees knew that they could talk to the owner," Singletary said. 

"A housekeeper lady came up and said she hated to bother him, but she said her whole family was coming in from Chicago to see her -- it was around Christmas -- and she had asked her supervisor for time off. But he said the schedule had already been made." 

Engelstad listened, then wrote her name in a spiral notebook and assured her she would get the time off. She did, said Singletary. 

Another time Engelstad approached a woman in a wheelchair and offered to buy her a motorized one. The woman declined, saying it was the only exercise she got. Engelstad said he understood, but gave her his card and said to call if she ever changed her mind. 

"So many people, when you bring his name up they think about the controversy," said Singletary. But incidents like the one with the housekeeper and the wheelchair-bound woman showed Singletary that Engelstad "was probably one of the most misunderstood, misperceived people by the public. He was such a generous and brilliant man." 

Biloxi Mayor A.J. Holloway was right in the thick of the controversy over the height of the Imperial Palace. 

"I knew Mr. Engelstad and we had our differences, but he was a tough negotiator," said Holloway. He said the Imperial Palace was the biggest project in the city at the time, and today it provides employment and a large tax base. 

Singletary recalled an event a few years ago involving a legal fight between Engelstad and a subcontractor. Both sides met in Singletary's office because they were close to reaching an agreement. 

The meeting started in the afternoon, and by 10 p.m. they were $20,000 apart. Singletary said Engelstad leaned over and whispered in his ear, "Tell them I'll flip them for it." 

Singletary said the other side met out of the room, and came back and agreed on the "sporting proposition." They spent some time setting down the rules, and agreed to have the court reporter toss the coin. When it was in the air, Engelstad's opposites called "tails." 

It came up heads, and the subcontractor got $120,000 instead of $140,000. 

In addition to his wife, Engelstad leaves behind a daughter, Kris, and two grandchildren. Funeral services are pending. 

-----To see more of The Sun Herald, or to subscribe to the newspaper, go to http://www.sunherald.com 

(c) 2002, The Sun Herald, Biloxi, Miss. Distributed by Knight Ridder/Tribune Business News.