(CNN)In those long-ago days of early 2020, business was cranking for Adam Flowers, a former street magician with an enterprising mind.
The owner of a Las Vegas tour business that includes ghost and mob tours, Flowers had just teamed up with 81-year-old Frank Cullotta, an admitted former hitman for the mob. They parlayed Cullotta's violent crimes of the past -- which Cullotta says included murder -- into a schtick, creating a YouTube channel called "Coffee with Cullotta." It racked up thousands of views, which in turn drove visitors to the physical tour.
Things were going well at home, too. Flowers, 43, had moved his retired parents to Las Vegas from Chicago the prior year. His wife worked as a technical director at Caesars Entertainment.
Then came the coronavirus.
By summer, Flowers' tour business was on hold, his wife was furloughed, they were living on unemployment, and Flowers and Cullotta were both stricken with Covid-19 -- too ill to record more episodes.
But that's not the worst. On July 9, Flowers' father -- John Flowers, a former firefighter and amateur magician who inspired his son to pursue showbusiness -- died of Covid-19.
"It's a lot to have happen to you all at once," Flowers said.
As the US struggles to contain a virus and shore up its battered economy, few states are facing a Catch-22 as stark as the one in Nevada: Reopen the bars and large entertainment venues and risk an upsurge of deadly infections. Keep everything closed and deal with Depression-era levels of unemployment and the death of businesses.
At 15%, the state's unemployment rate in June -- the latest available data -- is the fourth highest in the US, according to the Bureau of Labor Statistics. (The July figures for states will be released August 21.) It does mark an improvement: Nevada's jobless rate was twice as high back in April, when it topped the nation.
Although bars remain shuttered, the casinos -- which were closed for more than two months -- reopened in early June, and the city witnessed a brief surge of car travelers from Western states.
But Covid-19 infections and deaths in Nevada rose steadily through July.
Jeremy Aguero, an economist with Las Vegas policy research firm Applied Analysis, believes Nevada's jobless rate will soon worsen, because demand tapered off in July.
A full recovery, Aguero said, is between 18 and 36 months out.
"The long arc of this challenge is going to be painful," he said.
No state's economy leans more heavily on tourism than Nevada's, and tourism in the state has been walloped by the pandemic. Even with the bump in June, visitor volume that month was 70% below June of 2019, according to the Las Vegas Convention and Visitors Authority.
Crowds -- the life blood of Sin City -- have become danger zones, and Vegas like all cities has been forced to drain itself of them.
The toll on entertainers has been especially brutal.
Situation for entertainers getting 'dire'
Desiree Gordon was an exotic dancer at Sapphire Las Vegas -- a gentleman's club on the Vegas Strip.
She weathered the 2008 recession just fine. Traveling businessmen, she said, still streamed in, purchasing $2,000 bottles of champagne.
"We were still getting a bunch of daily tips," said Gordon, 37. "You know, we were still making more than the person working at Target."
When Sapphire closed in March because of the virus, she found herself filing for unemployment for the first time in her life. By July, she was living on the couch of a friend who'd just tested positive for Covid-19. This sent Gordon looking for another rental unit for her and her 11-year-old daughter.
"I don't know how renting's gonna happen," she said. "No one has jobs because of what's going on. So how do I get into a place?"
Showbusiness has come to a standstill in Vegas. From striptease acts to musical residencies to variety shows, entertainment in the city has gone dark.
Some entertainers are finding creative ways to stay physically fit. Silvia Silvia, a 60-something crossbow daredevil sharpshooter who performs at a variety show at the Rio Showroom called "Wow," keeps her chops up in her tiny backyard garden. Here, the grandmother of six practices one of her signature routines: shooting a balloon balanced on a stick held in the mouth of her husband, Victor -- a professional juggler.
"If I don't have space to practice I will be crazy," said Silvia, a native of Spain. But she's getting antsy: "We need to be on stage."
In late June, citing the pandemic, Cirque du Soleil, a Montreal-based circus company that has dominated Vegas for two decades, filed for bankruptcy protection. As part of the announcement, it laid off 3,500 employees.
Jimmy Slonina, a 47-year-old physical comedian, was working as a backup performer for both Cirque du Soleil and the Atomic Saloon Show, a raunchy wild west act at The Venetian resort. Both shut down.
A seasoned performer, Slonina -- who is married to Robin Slonina, an artist who was a judge on Skin Wars, a reality-contest show for body-painting -- said he is mulling other ways to make a living: copywriting, social-media marketing, voice-over work.
"But there are a lot of people in those businesses who have gone to school for it and have years of experience," Slonina said, "when I was wasting my time, dropping my pants in front of thousands of people every night."
Since the shutdown Slonina said he has participated in a quarantine cabaret online and made a chunk of change on tips. He even participated in an adult-only, paid-service version of the cabaret -- with more nudity. It was a one-off.
The Sloninas own a house, but he is nervously watching their savings dwindle. He said the last of his unemployment checks has been cashed.
"It's not going to be long before it gets pretty dire," he said.
Harry Shahoian was one of the busiest Elvis Presley impersonators in Vegas, but at the moment, he doesn't feel like The King.
The pandemic killed the music in mid-March and it hasn't turned back on. All his regular shows have vanished.