Amid the endless winding streets of Henderson, Nevada, one house breaks the mold. Its front yard – no grass, just desert rock – is home to 62 rainbow-painted dinosaurs, dragons, turtles and spiders. A sign on the garage reads: “Shan-gri-la Prehistoric Park”, complete with visiting hours.

On a recent spring Friday at noon, the garage door hums open, letting in the harsh sun. Steve Springer, or “Dinoman” as he’s lovingly known by regulars of the park, ties a short black apron printed with cartoon dinosaurs around his waist. At 72, he likes to wear flip-flops with black socks and round glasses that make his eyes look tiny.

We are at Steve’s Dinosaur House, a makeshift project aiming to provide education in an entertaining way for the general public. Steve spends about half of his retirement income keeping the park running – about $2,000 a month.

Parked inside the garage is his pride and joy: the Dinomobile, a mid-1990s sedan wrapped in digitized dinosaur graphics and electric green rims. Playful dinosaur stuffed plushies peer out from every window, and the rear license plate shouts in all caps: “DINOMAN”. In the corner hangs an LED TV screen playing a six-hour loop of dinosaur videos Steve has pulled and edited from YouTube. Along each wall, candy, chips and cookies are lined up neatly on folding tables.

It’s a funhouse, an arcade, a makeshift carnival where the mood is always joyful. “No talk of politics or religion is allowed. You come here to get away from the world,” Steve insists.

Inside the house, Steve quickly prepares for the day, placing sour pops in the empty freezer. “It’s just me here, so I eat out about six times a week,” he says. His bookshelves are neatly lined with thousands of horror and science fiction films. Awards for outstanding teacher are hung on the wall.

With summer around the corner, Steve packs up the inflatable Easter decorations, stores the pastel LED lights and eggs, and switches themes again: “Summer Dragon Days”. His back porch holds aisle after aisle of clear plastic bins stacked 10 ft high, labeled: July 4, Valentine’s Day, Easter, Christmas, Halloween, summer. Inside: disco balls, pool floats, water guns, bunny inflatables, Valentine hearts, fabric donuts.

Out front, people start to trickle in. “How we doin’ today? We got new stuff,” Steve calls out, grinning.

Janam Riffle and his mom, Jenny, are regulars. “He’s now 10, and we’ve been coming since he was five,” she says. “While I was waiting on my disability to go through, I was very poor, and this was somewhere I could take him and it didn’t cost anything. You know when you go to Disneyland as an adult and it still makes you happy? That’s the feeling I get when I come here.

“We really needed to come today. The school held a fire drill and Janam is disabled, making it hard for him to do the stairs, so I said: ‘Let’s go to Dinoman to cheer up.’”

As the day wears on, the line stretches down the driveway and into the street. Scooters and bikes pile up while kids wait. Everyone gets a turn – and everyone plays for free. At the entrance, they sanitize their hands and grab a plastic grocery bag. Each person chooses three items from bins filled with Cow Tales and Starbursts, Takis and Lays, bouncy balls, rubber ducks, squishy creatures. “Hooray, we got a winner!” Steve cheers, pulling a ticket from his apron. Lucky guests get bonus toys or coveted “Dinobucks”, good for things like cooking sets, Barbie dolls and skateboards.

“Dine-do-man,” a tiny girl calls. “Help me reach this toy!” Her parents wait in the car – she’s got the routine down cold. Several high schoolers walk straight to the snack section, grab their food and gun it home – a free munchies oasis in the walled suburban villages outside of Las Vegas.

Dinoman knows the regulars. And he knows the kids that need an extra snack or two as well.

“Santa has one day and I have the other 364,” he says.

Tiffany and Ken Koo and their two kids, Aiden and Kaiden, eight and nine, have been coming since they were born. They make the 30-minute drive every Friday and often give back by volunteering their time polishing the neon green rims of the Dinomobile or cleaning the back patio with their dad. “We love to help Dino Steve because he helps us so much,” Ken said. The couple also run a free clinic for their local Buddhist temple.

For them, going to a movie for a family of four and buying popcorn costs more than $70. “Even the gumball machine is a dollar. Here, all of us can play. It’s entertainment for the whole family,” Tiffany said. They exit to the front yard to play a series of games.

Steve spends thousands on his project every month, but he also receives donations, and he can rely on his credit card.

After three decades of teaching middle school and running a classroom candy shop, Steve missed the kids. “My dad was a workaholic,” he says. “I knew early I didn’t want that.”

He shrugs. “I’ve got everything I want. What else should I do with the money?”

When he dies, he plans to sell off the dinosaurs, the Dinomobile and the house to fund scholarships.

Inflation means fewer toys, but Steve does his best to keep the magic alive. At 4pm, he shuts the garage and moves the perishables and chocolate inside. His feet ache, but he climbs into the Dinomobile and drives 12 minutes to The Pit, a crowded local restaurant.

At his table, he unpacks a few plastic dinosaurs and a sign advertising the park. He brings his own croutons, parmesan and cracked pepper – items not supplied by the restaurant – then orders his usual: salad, a rare Pit burger, fries cooked exactly 60 seconds and a Dr Pepper slushie.

After dinner, he heads across the lot to Dollar Tree, weaving through aisles he knows by heart. Twenty years of running the park has taught him what works. He tops off the night at the Sinclair dinosaur-themed gas station, then swings back to The Pit for one last Dr Pepper slushie.

It’s Friday night. Dinoman has done enough for one day.

Gov. Joe Lombardo vetoed a bill aimed to protect such infertility treatments as in vitro fertilization.

Senate Bill 217, sponsored by Democratic Senate Majority Leader Nicole Cannizzaro, would have established a statutory right to IVF treatment under Nevada law. It also would have increased protections for providers of fertility treatments and expanded coverage requirements for diagnosis and treatment of infertility.

Cannizzaro announced her intent to bring the bill last fall following the Alabama Supreme Court ruling on infertility treatments.

The legislation passed the Assembly on a party-line vote and passed the Senate 15-5, with Republican state Sens. Lori Rogich and John Steinbeck joining Democrats in support.

In response to the veto, Cannizzaro accused Lombardo of bowing to pressure from anti-abortion activists who want to outlaw IVF nationwide.

“Even Donald Trump has backed efforts to expand IVF, but Lombardo is picking out-of-state extremists over protecting Nevada doctors and patients,” she said in a statement. “By vetoing this bipartisan bill, Lombardo has turned his back on ordinary Nevada families who need a little help to overcome the hardships of infertility in order to experience the joy of parenthood.”

In his veto message, the governor said he supports efforts to make IVF more accessible, but he said the legislation is not feasible because of the mandate requiring coverage for IVF.

“Without dedicated and sustainable funding this mandate is fiscally impossible considering the current posture of the state’s budget, specifically in terms of Medicaid resources,” he wrote in his message.

He encouraged agencies to collaborate with interested parties to find alternative and financially sustainable ways to expand access to IVF.

Contact Jessica Hill at jehill@reviewjournal.com. Follow @jess_hillyeah on X.

Hantavirus, the disease that killed Gene Hackman’s wife, Betsy Arakawa, earlier this year, is on the rise.

The Nevada Department of Health and Human Services and the Nevada Department of Wildlife announced on Thursday, June 12, that the state recently found two confirmed cases of hantavirus pulmonary syndrome.

Hantavirus is a respiratory disease caused by exposure to the droppings, urine or saliva of deer mice. The condition is a severe and potentially deadly disease that affects the lungs, per the CDC. Symptoms can include fatigue, fever, muscle aches, headaches, dizziness, chills, nausea, vomiting, diarrhea and abdominal pain. Symptoms can begin to occur one to eight weeks after coming into contact with an infected rodent.

The Department of Wildlife encouraged the public to be cautious in areas where mice could have nested and left droppings, including sheds, barns, trailers, garages and cabins.

“We urge people to be aware of any signs of rodent activity and to take precautions to reduce the risk of exposure to hantavirus,” state medical epidemiologist Melissa Bullock said in a press release. “Anyone who has been in contact with rodents, nests or droppings and subsequently develops symptoms consistent with hantavirus pulmonary syndrome should see a health care provider immediately.”

Hantavirus made headlines earlier this year as it was Arakawa’s official cause of death. In February, Us Weekly confirmed that Arakawa and Hackman were found dead inside their shared Santa Fe, New Mexico, house. The classical pianist was 65, while the Oscar winner was 95.

“It is with great sadness that we announce the passing of our father, Gene Hackman, and his wife, Betsy,” Hackman’s daughters, Elizabeth and Leslie, and granddaughter, Annie, said in a statement to Us at the time. “He was loved and admired by millions around the world for his brilliant acting career, but to us he was always just Dad and Grandpa. We will miss him sorely and are devastated by the loss.”

Dead Rodents and Feces Found on Gene Hackman Property: Reports

Dead rodents and feces were found on the late Gene Hackman and Betsy Arakawa’s property following their deaths, per multiple reports. Hackman and Arawaka were found dead inside their Santa Fe, New Mexico, home on February 26. Arakawa, who was 65, died from hantavirus pulmonary syndrome, a rare disease that can be contracted from rodents. […]

During a March press conference, it was revealed that Arakawa’s death was ruled natural and due to hantavirus pulmonary syndrome. Officials believe she was the first to pass. Hackman died due to hypertensive atherosclerotic cardiovascular disease with Alzheimer’s disease as a significant contributing factor. Authorities believed that he died one week after his wife.

The following month, the Santa Fe County Sheriff’s Office released photos of Hackman and Arakawa’s property that revealed the pair’s main house was messy. The outbuildings, meanwhile, were rodent-infested.

Hackman and Arakawa were laid to rest during a private memorial service in New Mexico in April.