Five the Hard Way in Detroit's Gamble for Casino Gold

Detroit like almost everywhere else has a long history of gambling, but when it came to approving Las Vegas-style casinos within the city limits, it took voters five propositions and twenty-two years for supporters to outvote the opposition. Detroit's religious community mounted a campaign against what they felt was the moral decline of the city. Because Detroit's mayor Coleman Young was the spokesperson for the legislation to legalize casino gambling within the city limits, he became the focus for everything that was wrong about Detroit.

Mayor Young was confronted by a $44.3 million budget deficit by the end of the 1976 fiscal year, the largest operating deficit ever run by the city. To avoid the anticipated layoff of city workers, wage and hiring freezes, and incentives for early retirements, something decisive had to be done. The proposal to legalize casino gambling in Detroit was dubbed "the Circuit Breaker Proposal." It was sponsored in Lansing by Michigan House of Representive Democrat Casmer Oganowski.

The proposal called for a state casino gambling commission to license and regulate games of chance, namely blackjack (21), baccarat, keno, craps, roulette, wheel of fortune, and slot machines. It was not as if gambling and betting parlors were unknown in the city. Cards, dice, and other games of chance like flipping coins, pitching pennies, shooting pool, three card monte, and sports gambling were commonplace among Detroit's blue collar workforce. 

Three Card Monte

In the inner city, "playing the numbers" had long been part of the urban experience where bettors had much better odds of winning than in the Lottos run by the state of Michigan. In addition, backroom club gambling and poker rooms have always operated just below the surface of polite society for people who could afford losing money. Those who could not were soon given the bum's rush.

Many churches have long raised funds by hosting bingo nights and casino gambling charity events to add to their coffers. But Las Vegas-style casinos in one of America's largest cities posed a major threat to a city already struggling with more than its share of urban problems.

Fears of more organized crime, public corruption, increased poverty, prostitution, alcoholism, drug abuse, and immorality were the powerful talking points of the opposition. Because of the heightened emotion connected with this issue, Republican politicians and the Detroit News and Detroit Free Press came out firmly opposed to the proposition.

Supporters of casino gambling touted how many thousands of jobs would be created in a town with high unemployment and poverty. First, construction jobs would be created, and once the casios were operational, thousands of permanent jobs would be created. Casino gambling would revitalize Detroit's blighted downtown cityscape by generating an estimated $200 million in taxes with increased business revenues generated.

The day before the election, the Detroit Free Press urged voters to vote "No" on the advisory question to allow up to six state licensed and regulated casinos in Detroit. Voters defeated the gambling advisory referendum by 59% for a decisive win. Republican Governor William Milliken and the Detroit Area Council of Churches were the most outspoken opponents advocating the referendum's defeat. Michigan House of Representative Cass Organowski and Mayor Coleman Young vowed to continue supporting casino gambling within the Detroit city limits.

The day after the vote, the Detroit Free Press pronounced on its editorial page that the voters rejected "the siren song of the casino gambling backers. The idea that gambling would help the city renew itself is misleading and diverts attention from tackling the real problems of crime, poverty, and affordable housing."

Snake Eyes

***

Since Detroit's casino gambling proposition was defeated in 1976, supporters of the proposition believed that the current economic climate was favorable in 1981 because of the prolonged tailspin of the auto industry and the election of conservative Republican Ronald Reagan, who vowed to cut federal aid to cities. The budget deficit for Detroit was projected to be $135 million for the 1981 fiscal year and $147 million for 1982.

There were no easy options for Mayor Coleman Young. He recommended that the City Council consider tax hikes, deep budget cuts, across-the-board layoffs of city employees, and the sale of city-owned assets and properties. Mayor Young also renewed his request for legalization of casino gambling to generate income for the city.

This new push for casino gambling was once again sponsored in Lansing by Michigan House of Representative member Casmer Oganowski, Democrat from Detroit. To help with public relations this time was Tom Wishart from the Association for Casinos and Tourism. He was hired as a registered lobbyist. 

On the expectation that casino gambling would build tourism, increase convention business, and reduce unemployment, the proposition was supported by Detroit Police Officers' Association, the United Automobile Workers, the AFL-CIO, the airlines, taxi cab drivers, restaurateurs, hotel operators, and tourism and convention promoters. 

Proponents claimed that casino gambling could raise $50 to $75 million in taxes for the city creating 8,000 high-paying construction jobs and 25,000 hospitality and service jobs for city residents. In a rustbelt town with 13% unemployment, the prospect of creating jobs was a strong talking point for a yes vote.

Vocal opponents of the proposition were popular Michigan Governor William Milliken, Attorney General Frank Kelly, the Metropolitan United Methodist Church, the Council of Baptist Pastors of Detroit, and Detroit's two major newspapers. The governor and attorney general believed legalizing casino gambling would increase organized and street crime, and it would raise property taxes driving the poor and the elderly out of their homes. The city's clergymen denounced the casino gambling proposal on spiritual and moral grounds. The Detroit Free Press called the ballot proposal "An exhumation of a dead issue, and it smells."

Mayor Coleman Young

In March, Mayor Young made an appeal to a skeptical group of Black ministers to support the gambling proposal to help solve the city's problems. Young told the Council of Baptist Pastors that "The state of Michigan is the biggest gambling house operator in the nation right now. You can go into any grocery or liquor store and bet any amount of money you want on today's number, look on television to see what the winning number is that day, and be paid off tomorrow."

The pastors were not swayed by the mayor's argument. Reverend James E. Lewis, the group's spokesperson, said emphatically that his group was totally against gambling. "We are acutely aware of the economic conditions of the city. However, it is our honest conviction that casino gambling would further erode the moral, spiritual, and economic fiber of our community."

After the gathering of pastors, a reporter asked the mayor why he did not campaign more vigorously for the proposition. In what may be the most inscrutable statement Mayor Young made regarding this issue, he replied, "I'm not interested in fattening frogs for snakes." Nobody knew exactly what the mayor meant beyond expressing his frustration.

Proposition C asked: Should the City Council be able to approve a limited number of hotel casinos to be licensed and regulated under State Law with one half of the proceeds of a tax to be imposed on casinos' gross revenue and paid directly to the City of Detroit?

The Detroit News and the Detroit Free Press ran daily diatribes against Proposition C and daily horror stories about how casino gambling ruined Atlantic City in god-forsaken New Jersey, all the while getting paid for running Michigan Lotto numbers over the banner of their front pages. Their hypocrisy could not be denied.

On November 3, 1981, the day of the general election, Prop C was defeated for a second time by a similar 3 to 2 margin, slightly larger than in 1976. The wording of the proposal was short on specifics. Surely, casino gambling opponents in Detroit believed this was finally a dead issue.

***

In January 1988, Mayor Young's opening salvo to try for a third time to get Detroit voters to approve casino gambling was a press conference telling reporters, "Detroit never came out of the last recession. We need to take radical steps to preserve this city. Within days, I am going to set up a commission to study casino gambling and make a recommendation to the Detroit City Council." Political pundits were surprised the mayor would defy the two previous voter mandates against casino gambling.

In February, Mayor Young announced at City Hall that the members of the 60-plus committee ranged from top movers in corporate Detroit to little-known community activists. Former Detroit WJBK-TV Channel 2 anchor Beverly Payne was chosen by the mayor to be the commissioner in charge of administrating the $150,000, three-month study on the feasibility of casino gambling and its probable impact on Detroit.

After the press conference was concluded, Pastor John Peoples of the Calvary Baptist Church told the assorted press that "You can't ride to heaven in the devil's chariot. There is no way you can reconcile an immoral seed to produce a moral one." Reverend William Quick, pastor of the Metropolitan United Methodist Church added, "I think the issue of casino gambling is the Sword of Damocles that hangs over Coleman Young's head." 

Casino gambling supporter and committee member Patrick Meehan told the press, "To think the Almighty is foursquare against casino gambling, yet he winks at the state lottery, horse racing, and bingo, I just find very hypocritical."

When questioned by the press, Jay Berman, spokesperson for the Archdiocese of Detroit said, "In traditional Roman Catholic theology, there is nothing intrinsically evil about the act of wagering. Catholics are free to make up their own minds about casino gambling in Detroit." 

The Reverend Samuel White III of Scott Memorial United Methodist Church got in the last word, "It appears that some of the clergy are hypocritically and immorally supporting Coleman Young's casino gambling proposal. One has to question our appalling silence in the face of such flagrant evils. Gambling is sinful because it fosters avarice and idolizes mammon. It can make us greedy and worship the almighty dollar. The religious community of churches needs to have moral integrity to take a prophetic stand against casino gambling."

The essential issue and the players remained the same this time around, but religious casino opponents agreed to consolidate their efforts under an umbrella committee named United Detroiters Against Gambling to rally the religious community.

Their public relations campaign began with a color poster of Roman soldiers playing dice on the robe of Jesus at the foot of the cross. The caption read, "Over the years, some very influential people have looked down on gambling." The plan was to distribute 2000 of these posters, mostly to Detroit churches.

The opposition got some unexpected support from officials representing the Detroit Race Course, Hazel Park Harness Raceway, and Northville Downs. They came out united against casino gambling because they feared it would drastically affect their business and possibly lead to racetrack closures. They contributed a large chunk of money to the anti-casino forces. In politics, an enemy of my enemy is a friend of mine.

The mayor's committee considered European-style casino gambling which is usually kept small, requires identification, registration, and an entry fee. Most European gambling spots operate only 12 to 14 hours a day, and they offer no free drinks, no free meals, and no credit. One faction supported Las Vegas-style casinos but not wide-open like Vegas, where gambling dominates the landscape and the local economy. The issues of the number, size, location, and how the tax revenues would be used needed study and discussion. 

Some socially conscious committee members wanted tightly controlled casinos discretely tucked away on the upper floors of existing hotels to bring business into the city at minimal cost. The Vegas-style casino faction won out because they favored 24/7, easy access casinos as a way to bring thousands of people into the city to create new jobs.

On June 8, 1988, forty-six casino gambling committee members voted to approve casino gambling, fifteen voted against, and three abstained. The committee was discharged of their duties. Now, the issue was in the hands of the City Council. Proposition Y was drafted and read: "If casino gambling is approved by state law, then it shall be prohibited within the city limits of Detroit and Belle Isle."

Critics of how the bill was worded noted that a yes vote is against casino gambling; a no vote is for casino gambling. The mere mention of Belle Isle was a dog whistle for opponents who were likely to vote yes. It was a red herring for supporters who needed to vote no. Because of strong opposition, the idea of using Belle Isle for a casino site  was discarded five months earlier in February by the gambling committee.

Emotions were running high on both sides. Opponents ran a media blitz of full-page newspaper ads and radio spots everyday leading up to the August 2 primary election. Three days before the election, supporters and foes went head-to-head in a chant-down at Kennedy Square in a rally staged by casino supporters but disrupted by pro-gambling demonstrators.

This exercise in democracy resembled a "Tastes Great, Less Filling" shouting match in the bleachers of Tiger Stadium. Nobody got hurt except for Attorney General Frank Kelly's ego. He was shouted off the podium.

When voting day finally arrived. Detroiters voted for the third time another 3 to 2 margin against casino gambling (61%/39%). Mayor Young's throw of the dice crapped out. After voting, the mayor was exhausted, felt weak, and had a headache. His cousin and personal physican Dr. Claud Young took Coleman's vital signs and recommended several days of rest. "The mayor's condition is not serious," Dr. Young said. "For once, he decided to do what I told him to do."

Box Cars

***

On March 23, 1992, the Windsor, Ontario city council voted unanimously to approve a bid for casino-style gambling to bolster its sagging economy. If approved by Ottawa, Canada's capital city, the downtown Windsor riverfront casino could draw an estimated 50 million people annually from the United States and Canada. Detroit casino gambling supporters across the Detroit River saw Windsor's potential windfall gain as Detroit's loss of income. Ottawa approved the measure to legalize casino gambling in 1993. On May, 1994, Windsor opened a temporary casino called Caesar's Windsor.

The prospect of a Canadian riverfront casino re-ignited the debate over legalizing casino gambling in Detroit. Proponents estimated that Detroit casinos could generate as much as $26 to 50 million in yearly income for the city. Although Mayor Young was still an avid supporter, his ill health became a factor. After failing in four previous attempts, Young decided to allow other people to actively promote the gambling proposition.

When the mayor was asked to comment on plans for casinos in Windsor and Chicago, he took a jab at opponents of casino gambling. "All I can say is, 'I told you so'. If Detroiters did not approve gambling, some other city would emerge as the gambling capital of the Midwest. Casino gambling could be a source of 40 to 50 thousand jobs in this city, not to mention increased tax revenue and increased tourism."

Leading the movement to legalize casino gambling in Detroit in 1993 was sixty-three-year-old, retired Detroit Water Department employee David Greenidge, coordinator of the grass roots Citizens for Casino Gambling. Greenidge wanted to do something to help the city secure new jobs and increase its tax base. "Without those," he said, "we are nothing." He and several of his friends circulated petitions and secured enough signatures to place the measure on the June 2, 1993 Special Election ballot.

The major opposition came from Detroiters Uniting for Open Government, a religious coalition led by Reverend William Quick of the Metropolitan United Methodist Church, who helped defeat the previous attempts to open the city to casino gambling. The group was confident they could once again turn out the vote.

Public opinion appeared to shift in favor of casino gambling in Detroit after the move by Windsor to establish a riverfront casino on the Canadian side of the Detroit River, reducing the stigma for some voters. Windsor hoped to open a temporary casino in the fall.

Also softening public opinion towards casino gambling was when the Detroit City Council voted to allow real estate developers Ted Gatzaros and Jim Papas to place in trust 0.7 of on acre of their own downtown property to the Sault Ste. Marie Chippewa Tribe for an Indian-run casino, pending United States Department of the Interior approval under the "sovereign nation" statute. This move took the issue out of the hands of the voters. Eight Indian casinos already operated legally on reservation property in Michigan under federal agreement.

Caesar's Windsor Casino

Political consultant to Mayor Young, Adolph Mongo, believed the voters were not as emotional this time about casino gambling because it was the fourth time on the ballot. After the blood sport of the last election, voters were weary and more complacent than ever before. Tina Lam, staff writer for the Detroit Free Press, noted "with less than three weeks left before the June 2nd vote, both sides in this quiet campaign have raised little money, generated little heat, and shown little evidence of organization."

After Proposition A went to the voters, the measure went down in defeat by a thin margin of 51% to 49%. In the three previous losses, each measure won by a two-digit margin rather than a 2 point margin. Supporters were edging closer to the victory they craved. 

The Detroit Free Press attributed the close vote to low voter turnout, weariness over the casino gambling debate, and public resignation after the Windsor, Ontario City Council announced it was building a riverfront casino. The Free Press editorial page took a last shot at casino supporters, "Casinos are what you turn to when you are bankrupt of ideas and unable to tell the difference between blackjack and an urban renewal strategy."

On September 16, 1993, the Michigan House Oversight and Ethics Committee approved a resolution to ratify the Indian gambling compact signed by Governor John Engler. The Greektown Chippawa Indian Casino was a fait accompli and out of the hands of local leaders and Detroit voters.

Greektown Casino

***

In 1996, for the fifth time in twenty-two years, casino gambling was on the Michigan ballot. A coalition of well-funded supporters rallied under the banner of Michigan First. Their proposal was more specific than the four proposals that came before.

Proposal E would:

1. Permit up to three gaming casinos in any city that has a population of 800,000 or more and is within 100 miles of any state or country in which gambling is permitted, and has casino gambling approved by a majority of voters. [Detroit was the only city in Michigan that qualifed, allaying the fears of other communities across the state.]
2. Establish a state-controlled Gaming Control Board to regulate casino gambling and keep organized crime out of casino operations.
   
3. Impose an 18% state tax on gross gambling revenues. [In Vegas, this is called "skimming off the top." In this instance, the process is public and above board.]
   
4. Allocate 55% of tax revenue on gross gambling revenues to the host city for crime prevention and economic development.
5. Allocate 45% of tax revenue to the state for public education.

Michigan First projected that construction of three casino complexes would cost $1.8 billion, creating 11,000 permanent jobs and requiring tens of millions of dollars in locally-sourced goods and services each year. The pro-gambling group ran television and radio spots which focused on how well Caesar's Windsor Casino and the Northern Belle Casino, a paddle-wheel boat docked within walking distance from Caesar's, were doing raking in Michigan dollars.

After the first year of Windsor's casino operations, an Ontario provincial government-sponsored study showed:

• The six downtown hotels with a total of 1,171 rooms showed an increase in business from an average of 500 rooms rented to around 900 rented a day.
• Visiting gamblers, mostly from Detroit and its suburbs, spend $29 million on local Windsor businesses.
• Forty-five percent of Casino patrons ate in Windsor restaurants.

A boatload of money was floating around the Michigan airwaves. A WXYZ-TV advertising executive said they were selling twice as many ads than they had in the 1992 campaign. The WXYZ-TV morning news hour ran no fewer than eighteen political ads. 

Reverend Calvin Zastrow, a thirty-seven-year-old Assemby of God minister who lived in Midland, Michigan, actively worked against the casino proposition. The motivated anti-gambling activists were affiliated with churches that viewed gambling as inherently immoral and unethical. Zastrow's mantra was that gambling creates "Neighbors robbing neighbors, husband's beating wives, entrepreneurs declaring bankrupcy, lives being ruined, and souls being lost."

Casino spokesperson Roger Martin called Reverend Zastrow's repeal movement "a small coalition armed with half-truths and scare tactics supported by right-wing extremists from other states that declared war on Michigan voters and 15,000 jobs in Detroit.

Detroiters Uniting for Open Government centered their efforts on the greater Detroit religious community and through extensive advertising on radio, Black radio stations in particular. The governor and the attorney general were still lobbying against casino gambling in the state of Michigan.

Both major Detroit newspapers still ran endless diatribes against gambling, all the while earning revenue from running the State Lottery numbers in their papers and running ads for Vegas get-aways, Windsor gambing weekends, and cruise ship tours with casino gambling featured. The Detroit News and the Free Press benefited financially from the gambling advertising, yet they used every fear tactic they could to defeat Proposition E.

The anti-casino gambling proposal ran out of time and money. It fell short of the 247,000 signatures needed to qualify for the November ballot. Now in favor of the casino proposition, Mayor Dennis Archer flipped his opposition when he realized that license fees alone could top $100 million yearly from each of the three casinos. That kind of money could pay for a lot of city services that the city could not otherwise afford. 

Turnout in Detroit for the November 2, 1996 statewide election was stronger than expected due to a bear hunting proposal and a measure to approve the Foxtown Stadium Complex, a dual stadium project (Ford Field and Comerica Park) downtown. Also there was something about the Windsor casinos vacuuming up $1 million a day of Michigan money that did not sit well with Michigan voters.

Finally, after twenty-two years of struggle, five gambling propositions, and untold millions of hours and dollars, Proposition E won by 59% to 42% in Detroit, a 17 point victory. The statistics further revealed that Wayne County voted 79% to 21%, a whopping 58 point margin. The three casinos granted licenses were the MGM Grand Casino, Motorcity Casino, and the Greektown-Chippawa Indian Casino. By the turn of the millenium, all three casinos were operational and earning income for the city of Detroit.

 

Detroit's Early Numbers Racket