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MEDILL
NEWS SERVICE
Gulf
Coast Casinos Win Over Skeptics
By HOLDEN FRITH and HYE JEONG
MEDILL NEWS SERVICE

BILOXI, Miss.-A
decade ago, Mississippi newspaper publisher Roland Weeks felt his
community was threatened. Casinos had arrived in Biloxi, bringing
with them a bundle of pros and cons, and Weeks sensed the town would
soon face trouble. "The bottom line is whether gambling is going
to be part of Biloxi or Biloxi is going to be part of gambling,"
he told the Biloxi Rotary Club.
The state had
legalized gambling a few years earlier and casinos were beginning
to spring up in the sleepy coastal town, punctuating the ribbon
of white sand that fringes the Gulf of Mexico.
Now 12 casinos
have colonized the coast and, despite calls for a national moratorium
on new gambling ventures in the National Gambling Impact Study Commission's
report to Congress in 1999, the growth of casinos has shown no sign
of abating. Weeks, now retired after 33 years as publisher of the
Biloxi Sun Herald, recognizes Biloxi has become part of gambling,
but says, "I quite frankly have to say I was wrong. There are a
lot of good things that have come from gambling."
Weeks' change
of heart has coincided with a broader shift in American attitudes
toward gambling. "While older Americans have come to like us, younger
adults love us," the American Gaming Association boasted in a recent
annual report. It cited polls showing 91 per cent of adults ages
21 to 39 find gambling acceptable compared to 81 per cent of Americans
over age 50.
The association's
president, Frank J. Fahrenkopf Jr., has pursued an aggressive campaign
portraying gambling as just another form of entertainment, and it
seems to be working. America now has 432 commercial casinos operating
in 11 states, whereas 15 years ago they were confined to Nevada
and New Jersey. With so many of the states in financial disarray,
casinos can look forward to a sympathetic hearing from more and
more governors.
"As a way to
solve their budgetary problems, it's desirable for a number of reasons,"
Fahrenkopf said in an interview. "It's very capital intensive and
a lot of economic development flows from that investment. It's job
intensive, and it tends to produce jobs inordinately for those at
the lower rungs of education in our society."
"Most
importantly," Fahrenkopf added, "you can tax the hell out of this
industry."
Opponents, however,
continue to cite the social costs of legalized gambling, but they
are quieter than they used to be. Long-time campaigners struggle
to muster the money and energy to keep fighting a business that
shows no sign of leaving, and a new generation is growing up to
expect the jobs and entertainment provided by the casinos.
It's a story
that's unfolding across America. Between 1989 and 1994 six states
turned to gambling to supplement their incomes. Iowa led the charge,
inviting riverboat casinos into its waters in July 1989. Illinois,
Mississippi, Louisiana, Missouri and Indiana soon followed, creating
a gambling corridor down the center of the country.
While most of
the states chose to limit the number of casinos and the size of
payouts and losses, Mississippi opted for a Nevada-style free market
approach, which is paying dividends. The state has been on a 13-year
winning streak that's netted nearly $2 billion in tax revenues.
Combined income
from the 8 percent state tax and 4 percent local tax was $330 million
for the year ending June 2003, 10 percent of the state's budget,
and that doesn't include the additional hotel, restaurant and sales
taxes paid by the millions of visitors drawn in by the chance to
gamble.
That kind of
money makes a big difference to cash-strapped towns and states.
"When I came back to town in 1989, it was pretty sad down here,"
said Rick Carter, co-owner of Gulfport's Copa Casino, who grew up
in Gulfport.
Unemployment
was high, morale was low and the city was struggling to maintain
basic services. The shrimp and timber industries, traditionally
the cornerstone of the region's economy, had been hit hard by competition
from cheaper foreign imports.
Copa Casino
employs about 800 of the 35,000 Gulf Coast residents who work in
the industry, and Carter says the economic benefits outweigh the
side effects.
"It's brought
its fair share of problems," he acknowledged, "but when you equalize
it all out it's been very impressive what we've been able to do
here."
Money from
casinos has helped fund many of the Gulf Coast's nongambling tourist
developments, according to Steve Richer, head of the regional tourist
board. Richer said a new museum designed by Frank Gehry to house
the work of George Ohr, the ėmad potter of Biloxi,' will attract
visitors from across the country.
For
further evidence of the casinos' impact, just look at Biloxi's public
schools, said Denise von Herrmann, a dean at the University of Southern
Mississippi who wrote a report in 2000 on the economic impact of
the state's casinos.
"In the early
1990s (the schools) were old, they were crumbling, they were in
bad, bad shape," she said. "Now we have beautiful, brand new, large,
very high-tech facilities, and there's no question that they were
paid for by the local portion of the gaming tax."
Despite the
clear economic advantages, even those responsible for bringing gambling
to Biloxi admit to a downside. Lawyer and former state Sen. Sandy
Steckler, who helped create the gambling legislation, said the town's
infrastructure is becoming overloaded.
"The traffic,
of course, is becoming more difficult every day," Steckler said.
"We are losing the character of our community [and] our green space.
We are losing a beautiful landscape."
While Steckler
said the positives far outweigh the negatives, not everyone has
been won over by the economic arguments. "Those who opposed the
casinos for moral and religious reasons still oppose the casinos
for moral and religious reasons," von Herrmann said.
Active opponents are few and far between, however. Keith Rogers
used to direct Families for Quality Life, which opposed the introduction
of casinos to the Gulf Coast, but the group has now become dormant.
"I haven't been
active in opposing them for some time," Rogers said. "Our organization
kind of fell apart for lack of funding."
However, Rogers
has not changed his opinion of the casinos. He said fears that gambling
interests would overrun Biloxi were well founded. "Whatever casinos
want, they get," Rogers said. "What they don't want, they don't
get."
He cited the
Imperial Palace casino and its 32-story hotel, which was built despite
codes limiting the height to 30 stories. Keesler Air Force Base,
one of the region's biggest employers, said the construction would
obstruct landings at the airbase, but the city permitted the addition
after fining the casino. According to Biloxi city spokesman Vincent
Creel, the city fined Imperial Palace $13,300 in April 23, 1998.
But this was
not the first time the casino had flexed its muscles, Rogers said,
nor the first time the city had played along.
"Up until five
years ago, there was a church there," he said, pointing to the casino's
giant sign at the street corner. "It had been there for probably
60, 70 years." When casino traffic increased, Rogers said, the city
declared eminent domain proceedings against the church, forcing
it to move so the road could be widened.
The odds are
stacked against gambling's opponents. While they must get by on
a shoestring, the casinos spend heavily on advertising, lobbying
and donations to political parties.
The industry's
contributions to federal election campaigns have increased tenfold
in federal elections since 1991, to $14.2 million in 2001-2002 election
cycle from $1.4 million in 1991-1992, according to the Federal Election
Commission.
That makes gambling
one of the fastest growing political donors, according to Steven
Weiss, spokesman for the Center for Responsive Politics.
Sen. Trent Lott, R-Miss., received about $75,000 between 1993 and
2002, according to the Federal Election Commission. Sen. Thad Cochran,
R-Miss., received slightly less, $62,500 between 1995 and 2003.
Lott's press
secretary, Lee Youngblood, said the casino industry has a right
to donate money to political campaigns. "All these industries put
money into our economy and provide jobs," he said, adding that Lott
"treats them as constituents."
Cochran said
his fundraising committee has never been cited for violating regulations.
"If we comply with all those rules," he said, "I don't purposefully
try to include or exclude any class or group of people."
Casino companies'
generosity could explain the reluctance of politicians to campaign
against gambling. "It has a very colorful, checkered past," Weiss
said. "Yet the industry gets by with a fairly low amount of criticism
at the national level by the parties and by party leaders, and in
no small part because it gives a lot of money to both parties."
Casino owners
also hope their contributions will avert tax hikes being considered
in many states. The same budget crises that have driven the expansion
of casino gambling now make higher taxes on the industry an attractive
proposition to state legislatures, but financial analysts say the
states could end up shooting themselves in the foot.
Three months
ago Illinois introduced a 70 percent tax rate for casinos with revenues
of more than $250 million and increased the rate for those making
less than that from 35 percent to 50 percent. "The first month after
the tax increases the revenues were down 9 percent," said Patricia
Wright, a gaming industry analyst at Fitch Ratings in New York.
Wright said
that although the companies are unlikely to go out of business,
they will cut investment in their Illinois casinos. That could mean
the state's attempt to increase revenue will end up backfiring.
"More and more people will flow over the border to the Indiana properties
that are being invested in and renovated," she said. "Illinois casinos
will take a hit in terms of revenues, and obviously that will filter
through to the tax coffers as well."
While Illinois
may have to deal with lower than expected revenue from casino taxes,
some of Mississippi's coastal towns have decided to do without casinos
altogether. In Long Beach, less than 5 miles west of Rick Carter's
Copa Casino, 60 percent of voters decided against allowing casinos
within the city's boundaries.
Mayor Robert
Bass said his town's opposition to casinos has remained solid, but
he acknowledged that going without casinos has been difficult for
Long Beach.
"When we took
office in July of 1997," Bass said, "I was asked to approve a $38
purchase order for toilet paper and cleaning supplies to go into
our central fire department. I went ahead and approved it, and got
back to the city hall and was accosted by my city clerk, who told
me, ėDon't ever go out and approve purchase orders like that again.
We don't have any money.'"
After some
civic belt-tightening, the city is now in better shape. "We privatized
our public works department, and that saved us a bunch of money,"
Bass said. "Any kind of building cleaning, we essentially took care
of ourselves."
The towns on
the Gulf Coast have become used to compromise. Biloxi's casinos
may have cost the 304-year-old resort town some of its old charm,
but charm alone won't pay the bills.
Weeks, the retired
newspaper publishers, said the gambling companies have proved their
commitment to the community and, like many in Biloxi and across
America, he has decided his initial instinct against gambling was
out of sync with the real world.
"When you live
in a changing world," he said, "you change with it."
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