It's about the casino, stupid!

In rebuttal to Vincent Armenta's article in Capitol Weekly, a Santa Ynez resident says it clearly enough that even Mr. Armenta should understand. It's not about race hatred. (How can it be about "race" when most people have potted plants that are more "Indian" than the "Chumash"?) According to Vincent however people like Ms. Bowen here are full of hatred and jealousy, and have no business stating their opinion, she's just another whacko, gonzo, hater.

“Hate groups” or average citizens?
By Kathryn Bowen (published Thursday, November 08, 2007)

I am a 43-year-old mother of two. I have a family, a job, a home, I vote and I pay my taxes.

In the year 2000, a 260,000 square foot casino gets built in the heart of our rural community in Santa Ynez Valley (Population 22,000) less than a mile from four elementary schools and our high school with little to no input from the public. In fact, the mere questioning of the size and scope of the project brought immediate and brutal allegations of racism among other epithets from tribal Chairman, Vincent Armenta and tribal spokeswoman Frances Snyder.

Fast forward 7 years. Not much has changed. Screaming racism or “hate” as Chairman Armenta did in his November 1 “Gonzo journalism gone wild” commentary in Capitol Weekly is far easier than to address the real issues of land use, regulatory paralysis, the loss of representative government and the outright abuse of federal law.

Slowly our rights as a community have disappeared as elected officials continue to turn their backs on the people that elected them to office and open their pocket books to big gambling interests. Unlike much of the legalized gambling spreading like a cancer across this country, our casino along with 390 other tribal casinos nationwide are non-transparent, government sponsored, cash printing machines. Casino tribes are allowed to rely on services and infrastructure provided by the hosting community, but the community in turn cannot impose its regulatory system or property taxes for reimbursement because it is perceived as impeding on their sovereignty.

Let’s just be very clear. Casino tribes are not subject to the same laws or taxes as any other business in this country, are not accountable to host communities, not accountable to their own tribal members and if four casino tribes have their way come February, not accountable to the California taxpayer either. Yet, taxpayers are expected to subsidize a $27 billion and growing industry. Shall we dump the tea in the harbor one more time?

These issues are serious enough but just the tip of the iceberg. The more global issues are still submerged under the surface and considering the exhaustive list of related cases before our federal courts, is about to erupt.

Bottom Line: The American taxpayer and the growing number of disenrolled tribal members have become collateral damage to our government in a disastrous experiment that began with a train called the Indian Reorganization Act (IRA) and given “run away status” when the Indian Gaming Regulatory Act (IGRA) was passed in 1988. Promoting inequality and separatism through granting gambling monopolies and allowing tens of thousands of acres to be placed into federal trust status to expand “sovereign” tribal territories within our borders because of past persecution is misguided at best and at worst will undue the constitutional protections secured to all people, tribal and non-tribal.

All we have requested from the press is to report the facts without bowing down to intimidation methods or multi-millions of dollars of casino advertising revenue. Nancy Crawford-Hall of the Santa Ynez Valley Journal has done both for our community. Giving Chairman Armenta space to spew such hateful and divisive remarks without having to address the real issues illustrates the kind of intimidation host communities have put up with for years.

Since when did taxpaying, law-abiding citizens exercising their constitutional right to question what our government is doing become the enemy and labeled “hate groups” for challenging flawed federal laws that are weakening a democratic form of government?

Worldwide, casinos are being shut down by the thousands due to the economic and social strain they produce. So why is it considered “hate” when we challenge tribes and our government in their partnered effort to promote gambling as “easy money” when taxpayers are going to be the ones footing a very expensive bill when the party is over and the hangover begins? Why can we not question the Governor for signing every taxpaying citizen on to this lie of free money when he can privately negotiate deals excluding the host communities that are affected the most?

We challenge the Governor and the legislators on the false promise of growing revenue for the state. Where is the close to $1 billion Governor Schwarzenegger promised from his renegotiated 2004 compacts? He has collected an anemic $27 million with costs to the state continuing to grow. Just one example: Governor Schwarzenegger recently took away $1.3 million our community was suppose to receive from the Special Distribution Fund (SDF) intended to minimally mitigate the impacts of the casino. Who is going to pay for this?

The myriad of constitutional issues along with the fallacy that gambling revenue with solve budgetary shortfalls and stimulate economic vitality in our state must be questioned. Hate isn’t the issue.


RELATED ARTICLES:
Gonzo! Whacko! Holy Bingo Batman!!
SY Valley's Journal

Gonzo! Whacko! Holy Bingo Batman!!

Mr. Armenta of the Chumash casino of Santa Ynez submitted this rebuttal to Capitol Weekly in response to their original article. Though he criticizes Ms. Halls's journalistic skills, I myself wonder why he would knock off the title of a soft porn movie to launch his diatribe. Perhaps he needs to look elsewhere for inspiration. Or maybe just pay better attention. It is not 'hate' to dislike having a casino in one's backyard Mr. Armenta. Nor is it 'hate' to want to limit casino expansion. The only ad hominem attacks I see in any of these articles are in your rebuttal Mr. Armenta. As for drama? This editorial is a splendid example! Congrats!

Gonzo Journalism gone wild
By Vincent Armenta (published Thursday, November 01, 2007)
Capitol Weekly's October 18, 2007, article, "Santa Ynez woman buys paper, covers tribal casino," painted a rosy picture of a local woman purchasing a newspaper. But like the Santa Ynez Valley Journal itself, the article didn't tell the whole story.

It's no secret that Nancy Crawford-Hall, the new owner of the Santa Ynez Valley Journal, is a longtime foe of our tribe, the Santa Ynez Band of Chumash Indians. She has attended Santa Barbara County Board of Supervisors meetings to speak out against our tribe, participated with anti-Chumash hate groups in the community and has written many angry columns in her publication accusing the tribe of everything from paying off politicians to being parasites.

Since Crawford-Hall took over ownership of the Valley Journal, we have had the displeasure of seeing multiple rants against our tribe in her "newspaper" on a weekly basis. Clearly, she doesn't follow the principles of good journalism by bringing quality news reporting to the public. In fact, there's no pretense of journalism at all. If journalism's first obligation is to the truth, the Valley Journal's obligation is to sensationalism and propaganda.

The Valley Journal goes back in time to the media climate prior to the 20th Century where the media market was dominated by smaller newspapers and pamphleteers who usually had an overt and often radical agenda, with no presumption of balance or objectivity.

From our perspective, it appears that the Valley Journal is a publication that is designed for the sole purpose of promoting hate against the tribe by criticizing the Santa Ynez Band of Chumash Indians in every issue. The publication's motto might very well be: "All the Gossip That's Not Fit To Print."

Take, for example, Crawford-Hall's "expose" on the tribe's so-called plans to bring 5,000 more slot machines to our facility. She obtained copies of minutes of a tribal council meeting and printed excerpts, but didn't bother to paint the entire picture. We weren't planning to bring 5,000 more machines to our facility, and we haven't. Facts, apparently, aren't important to Crawford-Hall.

Instead, readers were treated to weekly updates of the "No More Slots" campaign in an attempt to cause panic and hysteria by predicting that the sky was falling. The tribal opponents established a Web site, collected signatures, had a town meeting, donned T-shirts with "No More Slots" slogans and marched around Sacramento carrying a Tupperware container filled with scraps of paper. Their campaign fizzled after much fanfare and, as we said all along, we didn't bring 5,000 more slots to the Valley.

Ex-employees of the Valley Journal, of which there are many, tell us of Crawford-Hall's tirades against any editor or reporter who tries to include anything that remotely resembles balanced reporting when it comes to matters concerning the tribe. [if you think those stories are bad you should hear what ex-casino employees have to say about YOU Vincent. I would invite them to post here but our 'family' rating would go right out the window.- ed] She recently fired a columnist who wrote an op-ed that was non-biased. Evidently, an opinion that didn't condemn the tribe didn't have a place in her paper.

Crawford-Hall claims that her paper is the only one printing the truth about the community. The reality is that the local media--print, television and radio--all uphold journalistic standards and run fair, balanced and truthful news on the community, including news on the tribe and our Chumash Casino Resort. Because the coverage is objective, the way journalism should be, Crawford-Hall doesn't like it.

We have battled the Crawford-Halls of our community for nearly a decade. It seems that the more successful our business enterprise, the angrier they become. They hold town hall meetings that a casual observer described as one long gripe session against the tribe. They circulate petitions that go nowhere. They become incensed by virtually everything our tribe does--including making donations to the community.

Crawford-Hall's purchase of the Valley Journal is not a testament to a community member buying a paper to create a community voice. It's a demonstration of what happens when a group of elitists have too much time and too much money.

In Capitol Weekly's article, Crawford-Hall says, "We are telling the stories that no one else will tell." One example might be the front page article she ran stating that Mars will be the brightest object in the night sky when it comes within 34,649,589 miles of Earth. Of course, the story, an urban legend, was a false chain e-mail and passed off as the truth. Like everything else in her paper, the article failed miserably when it comes to meeting basic journalistic standards.

At the end of the day, Crawford-Hall's publication is just another chapter to add to the legacy of the local extreme groups. More drama, more hate, and more fish wrap.

SY Valley's Journal

A few weeks ago at Capitol Weekly, this article appeared covering Nancy Crawford Hall's purchase of the local Santa Ynez paper, 'The Journal'. I am reposting it here along with the responses that have cropped up on the web regarding the original article.

Santa Ynez woman buys paper, covers tribal casino
By Malcolm Maclachlan (published Thursday, October 18, 2007)

Nancy Crawford Hall didn't like how her local newspapers were covering the nearby Chumash tribe and casino. So she did something that people have fantasized about for centuries: She bought her own newspaper.

Last October, she purchased a small monthly, the Santa Ynez Valley Journal. She turned it into a weekly and quickly began having her staff crank out stories that a spokeswoman for the Chumash has labeled "propaganda" and "conspiracy theory of the month."

"It's an interesting paper," said Frances Snyder, and tribal member and spokeswoman for the Santa Ynez Band of Chumash Indians. "Frankly, every week I dread looking at it. All of the stories are inaccurate. All of the stories are biased."

Hall claimed that hers is the only paper printing the truth about the casino--and that the community has responded. The Journal had a circulation of 6,000 when she bought it, she said, but has since grown to 22,000. She said she started looking into buying a paper after years of the other local papers refusing to print anything critical about the tribe or the casino--even in their "letters to the editor" sections.

"I can't go anywhere in town without people saying 'thank you for the paper,'" Hall said. She added, "I think we've really hit a chord. We're telling the stories no one else will tell."

Hall pens a column each week called "On the Ranch." About every third or fourth column deals with the Chumash, she said. But the paper regularly covers the group, including printing numerous letters to the editor--including one by a disgruntled tribal member, Hall said, who asked that their name be withheld.

For many in Sacramento, the first they heard about the dispute between the Chumash and local activists came in the last few weeks when Assemblyman Joe Coto, D-San Jose, successfully carried a bill to rename a section of Highway 154 as the "Chumash Highway." This angered local anti-casino activists with groups such as No More Slots and Preservation of Santa Ynez. Hall said she has never belonged to any of the local anti-casino groups.

Snyder had harsh words for the activists who oppose the renaming of Highway 154. The route had long been used by the tribe, she said, and the naming followed all legal and Caltrans rules, she said.

"Is it named the Chumash Casino Highway? No," Snyder said. Nowhere in the regulations around naming a highway, she added, does it "say you need the permission of [anti] tribal hate groups."

While the Journal has weighed in on the Highway 154 renaming, the paper has focused more squarely on what they allege are the tribes plans to expand the casino. This past spring, the Journal printed that the tribe was in negotiations for 5,000 new slot machines, along with tribes such as Pechanga and Agua Caliente, that got amended compacts in August.

The Chumash responded by saying the article was inaccurate--a point they sought to emphasize with full-page ads in several competing papers. On April 18, the Journal responded by reprinted the minutes of Chumash Tribal meeting, along with a 4,000 word story titled "Tribal Chairman Claims 'Whackos,' Tribal Government Minutes Say Otherwise." This included a quote from tribal chairman, Vincent Armenta stating: "We met with the Governor's Office but there has been no progress yet. We are asking for 5,000 machines."

Jim Marino, a local attorney who sued the Chumash twice on behalf of former casino employees but got caught in the "catch 22" of trying to sue a sovereign tribal government, said the tribe got caught with their pants down. Many tribal members themselves are angry about the way the tribe is being run by chairman Vincent Armenta, he said, which explains the regular stream of internal tribal information that has been fed to the Journal.

"They said they weren't going to expand," Marino said. "We had the blueprints of exactly where they were going to put the slot machines."

"They quit calling us liars," Hall said of the exchange.

Not quite. Snyder said the minutes were used out of context. The same quote goes on to state than new slots would be 10 years off. The Chumash were invited to talks, she said, because they are a gaming member of the Tribal Alliance of Sovereign Indian Nations, but declined to pursue expansion. Other tribal minutes would show this to be true, she said, but added that these documents are confidential.

The dispute between the tribe and locals goes back to the beginning of the tribal-gaming era. The Chumash were one of the first tribes to gain a gaming compact under then-Gov. Gray Davis.

The Chumash face something other largely rural tribes have not: an extremely well-funded opposition. The town of Santa Ynez, located 30 miles northwest of Santa Barbara, has median household income of $96,300, according to the 2000 census--a figure that precedes that advent of the casino. The statewide median income at the time was $53,600.

Some have far greater wealth than that, as well as long-term ties to the land. Hall declines to state how much she paid for the Journal, or how many horses and cows she has on the ranch her family has owned for four generations. But she owns a horse-show arena. Her great grandfather, John Vickers, was co-owner of one of the Channel Islands, Santa Rosa Island; the U.S. government bought it for $30 million in 1978.

"The other tribal opponents don't have these type of resources," Synder said. "They try really hard to look like they're not elitist. They don't represent the community."

Marino said that charges of elitism don't mean much when they're coming from a tribe that hands out $40,000 (Snyder refused to confirm this figure) in gaming money to each member every month--not to mention nearly $1 million in political donations since 2001, including $16,200 to Coto. He went on to say the tribe has used this power--and the tens of thousands they regularly spend on newspaper and television advertising--to crush any criticism in other newspapers in the area.
"It's the millions of dollars they spend plus the fear of being labeled a racist," Marino said.

Many of the comments about the tribe do have racial overtones, Synder said, especially those posted on blogs. The tribe is criticized essentially no matter what they do, she said, including when they gave $1 million to the local Cottage Hospital and $3 million to refurbish the athletic fields at Santa Ynez Valley High School.

As an entertainment venue, they do regularly advertise in the local press, she said, though not in the Journal. The real reason the opponents don't get coverage elsewhere, she said, is because their claims are inaccurate. Many writers in the area, such as Santa Barbara News-Press columnist Travis Armstrong and local blogger Rick Lee, have frequently written positive stories about the tribe.

In any case, Hall said the Journal is going to keep after the Chumash. All she ever wanted was a part in the debate, she said, and the paper has given her that in spades. She's looking at adding new staff and shining light elsewhere, as well.

"The phrase 'the power of the press' is really true," Hall said, then added, "There's a lot of sneaky stuff the county does."

The Rose Colored Glasses are OFF in Orange County

Too often we hear plaintive murmers about 'job creation' and 'economic boosting' by communities contemplating an indian casino in their midst. Not so in Orange County though, at least in Congressman John Campbell's office. From the California Republic.

Of Casinos and Indian Tribes
by John Campbell [congressman]
By now you may have heard that there are several groups trying to get federal recognition as the federally sanctioned Juaneno Indian Tribe in Orange County. It is very clear that the groups seeking recognition as this tribe are doing so because they intend to establish a casino in urban Orange County. I have a copy of a lobbying contract under which the lobbyists are paid only by a contingent fee of the "take" of the eventual casino. If there is no casino, they are working for free. Furthermore, the Orange County Register recently featured a story in which one of the tribe organizers, Joyce Stanfield Perry, says, “it is our inherent right to build any kind of economic development once we have a government-to-government relationship.” There has been talk of putting this casino in San Juan Capistrano or near Irvine's Great Park. The Federal Bureau of Indian Affairs is scheduled to decide whether to recognize this tribe in about 60 days. If they do achieve recognition technically they could establish a casino on any land they buy in Orange County, although they would have to get a gambling "compact" with the state.

I oppose the recognition of this tribe and I oppose a gambling casino in Orange County, or frankly any other urban area. Lest you think I am not consistent on this issue, while in the California State Legislature I aggressively opposed the establishment of what would have been the largest casino on earth for a roughly 20 member tribe that had been recognized in Berkley, California. We have been successful so far in stopping that one. Here is why I oppose these things:

1) Indian casino gambling was originally conceived in order to provide economic opportunity for big groups of largely full-blooded Indians who were poor and whose ancestral reservations were in remote areas with little economic opportunity. That has worked in many areas. Fine. But now you see a handful of professional people tracing small fractions of Indian ancestry, in urban areas where economic opportunity abounds wanting to become tribes so they can make tons of money on gambling. If they would agree to never have a casino, as a tribe in North Carolina recently agreed to do, then we would know that they were merely trying to preserve their cultural heritage. But the Juanenos are not doing that.

2) The federal tribal recognition process has existed for 30 years. Why has this tribal application only surfaced in the last 20 years or so? Perhaps because the availability of and profitability of casino gambling only came to California recently.

3) These are not tribes of thousands of people here. The people trying to establish these tribes usually number less than a dozen. I remember meeting once with a group of 6 trying to establish a tribe and a casino in downtown San Diego. So, we're supposed to grant gigantic casino rights so that 6 people can have economic opportunity?

4) Indian casinos are federally granted monopolies. You and I cannot open one to compete with the Juanenos if we wanted to. In an urban area, why not? They are also basically self-regulated in California so their profit margins are very high because of that lack of competition.

5) Casinos in urban areas are usually accompanied by increases in crime and spousal abuse and gambling addiction.

6) These things are hard to stop because they are very profitable that there is plenty of money to go around for lobbyists and cities and consultants and the only losers are the public.

For all these reasons I have introduced a bill to place a 25 year moratorium on Indian casinos for newly recognized tribes. This will preserve the tribal recognition process for those who truly desire to preserve their heritage, but it will stop the practice of setting up these monopoly casinos in urban areas for at least a while.

If you agree with this bill or that we should not have casinos in urban areas like Orange County, please e-mail me back so that I can show the Bureau of Indian Affairs the breadth of the opposition to this tribe's plans.

Members question tribe - and get kicked out...

...oh color me so surprised! To begin with it cannot be said there has been sufficient proof provided that any of the so-called tribal members are indeed the descendants they claim to be. That some of these so-called tribal member can decide 'who is' and 'who is not' is ironic and almost funny. Almost. It becomes alarming when you hear tales of dis-enrollment as the cure for anyone with the audacity to question tribal leadership or practices. It effectively gives casino tribes the ability to hide anything. Anything at all. From CNN:


Indian tribes expel members

PROVIDENCE, Rhode Island (AP) -- Dennis Champlain's grandfather helped win federal recognition for the Narragansett Indian Tribe. Champlain himself has danced in tribal powwows and teaches his children that they are Narragansetts.

Dennis Champlain and his extended family were removed from the rolls of the Narragansett Indian Tribe.

Yet the Narragansetts say he is no longer a member of the tribe.

Champlain and his extended family are among thousands of people removed from American Indian tribes in recent years, often amid tribal squabbles or when a casino comes to town. In Rhode Island, the Narragansetts' removal of about 140 of roughly 2,400 members has become an issue in Saturday's election for the tribe's chief sachem, or leader.

Tribal officials say they have the right to decide who is a member and to prevent fraud by people angling for a share of gambling money. But many of those kicked out complain they have little recourse to fight what amounts to an attack on their identity.

"We're in the process of a redefinition of tribal identity at its core," said David Wilkins, a political scientist at the University of Minnesota and a member of North Carolina's Lumbee Tribe. "It's ramping up in a way that's really quite frightening to a lot of Native people."

Wilkins traces most purges to four factors: internal political squabbles, stricter racial requirements for membership, punishment for gang or drug-related crime and, most often, during debates over sharing casino profits.

A 1978 U.S. Supreme Court ruling said the federal government should not intervene in most tribal membership disputes, leaving appeals up to the tribes.

Tribal casinos generated $25 billion in revenue last year, according to the National Indian Gaming Commission. Tribes often split the profits by making payments to members. Fewer members can mean a larger paycheck for those left.

But that paycheck can lure people with dubious claims of ancestry. The Pechanga Band of California said it was deluged with membership claims after it opened its casino in 1995.

John Gomez Jr., 39, a Pechanga member since childhood, was kicked out in 2004. He said gambling profits were one factor: He lost free health care and a $15,000 monthly payment. But he said he and others had questioned leaders before a tribal election.

"I think a lot of it has to do with the money, but there's a lot of it that's also about the politics," said Gomez, who co-founded the American Indian Rights and Resources Organization, a group that lobbies against expelling tribe members.

The Pechanga council has said it cut members who should never have been let in.

It's not clear how many people have been removed from tribes in the last few years. There are 562 federally recognized tribes, and tribal governments are not required to report citizenship decisions. But the number is in the thousands.

Gomez's advocacy group counts at least 1,500 people ousted from 13 tribes in California.

In Michigan, the Saginaw Chippewa want to remove about a tenth of their 2,700 members due to rules that require them to be at least one-quarter Indian. Critics said it's an attempt to cut casino payments.

The Cherokee Nation voted in March to deny citizenship to an estimated 2,800 descendants of tribal slaves.

In the Narragansett election, Paulla Dove Jennings, a historian, is running an underdog campaign against the incumbent, Matthew Thomas, saying it is unfair to take people's identities as Narragansetts away.

The tribe began a review of its roster about three years ago amid a failed push to build a casino -- but there is a dispute over why. Thomas said a tribal assembly, similar to a town meeting, voted to verify all tribal membership before adding several children to the roster.

But Leslie Champlain, a cousin of Dennis Champlain, said she attended the meeting and believes the tribe did not approve an audit. She suspects tribal leadership wanted to root out dissent after her sister, a tribal councilwoman, demanded a detailed audit showing how the tribe spent millions of dollars, some of it from the gambling company Harrah's Entertainment Inc.

Thomas called Champlain's claim "ridiculous" and said he is bound by the decisions of the tribal assembly and cannot be held responsible for someone else's ancestry.

Members were asked to prove they descend from ancestors listed on an 1880 census using birth, death and marriage certificates. The Champlains had used other documents as recently as 1994. This time, it was not enough.

Dennis Champlain said he learned his family was kicked out by reading about it in a newspaper. Thomas said members can appeal to a tribal court, but the Champlains say no one ever told them how to appeal.

Dennis Champlain does not blame his fellow Narragansetts, but he calls the process unjust.

"It's not a matter of whether it's right or wrong," he said. "It's a matter of who has the power. The tribe has the power -- we don't."

"The Untouchables"

If you or I owned a pub or bar, and were careless by feeding our customers too much alcohol, you can bet at some point one of our patrons would end up in a serious auto accident, possibly causing great harm to others. You can also bet that we would be named as defendents in lawsuits as a reward for our carelessness. However, if you are a tribal casino your sovereign nation status protects you from any such legal action. (Yet as tribal members you are allowed to contribute money to US political campaigns and vote in US elections.) From the Tucson Citizen:

Plaintiffs suing tribes can't get day in court
GARY FIELDS
The Wall Street Journal

The collision jolted Gary Filer awake in the back seat. A second impact brought his minivan crashing to a halt against a highway barrier. Filer lay partially on the road, his legs trapped in the wreckage, listening to the whine of his dog, Sadie. "She worked her way out and crawled over and lay on my lap," he remembers.

The minivan, driven by Filer's wife, had been hit by a Cadillac Escalade traveling the wrong way down Interstate 10.
The driver had been drinking heavily at the Desert Diamond Casino, six miles away.

The impact killed Filer's wife. The lower portion of Filer's right leg was later amputated. Sadie was euthanized.

The wreck's legal consequences seemed clear. Douglas Levitski, the Escalade driver, had a blood-alcohol level nearly three times the Arizona limit when he slammed into the Filers' Grand Voyager just after midnight on July 3, 2004. He was later charged with second-degree murder.

The casino where Levitski was drinking seemed a good target for a lawsuit. Like many states, Arizona has a law that makes liable establishments and employees who serve alcohol to visibly intoxicated customers who then cause accidents.

But when Filer went to sue the casino in state court in Tucson, he quickly learned that the textbook on civil litigation doesn't apply on tribal land, or to tribal entities. Under federal law, tribes are considered sovereign nations and are immune from most lawsuits. The Desert Diamond Casino where Levitski got drunk is on the San Miguel Reservation of the Tohono O'odham Nation.

So even though the accident itself involved no tribal members and took place off the reservation, Filer's state civil suit seeking $2 million in damages from the tribal-owned casino was rejected.

Arizona's appeals court upheld the decision.

"This conclusion, we hasten to add, may be unsatisfactory to some and arguably divorced from the realities of the modern world," wrote Judge John Pelander in the opinion.

Ripped off on the Reservation

Reading the comments at the GMA site where this story originated, you get the feeling people are missing the point. The arguement of "Pay him! Don't pay him! " seems to be irrelevant. Because of sovereign nation status - the casino cannot be sued. Tribal members can vote in US elections, can sue US citizens in US courts of law, and casinos on reservations can operate as a foreign country without tariffs or taxes.

Man Sues Casino over $1.6 million 'Jackpot"
By JIM AVILA, BETH TRIBOLET, DONNA CHOI and SCOTT MICHELS
ABC News Law & Justice Unit
Oct. 25, 2007

For about an hour last August, Gary Hoffman was a very lucky man.

Hoffman was playing the nickel slot machines at the Sandia Resort and Casino on an Indian reservation in New Mexico when he appeared to hit the jackpot: the machine said he won nearly $1.6 million.

"I became ecstatic," he said.

But the ecstasy was short-lived. Hoffman says in a lawsuit filed earlier this year that Sandia refused to pay, claiming that the machine malfunctioned. Instead, he said, they gave him about $385 and a few free meals at the casino.


"I won money, fair and square, and I've been cheated out of my winnings," Hoffman told ABC News.

The casino says it's not responsible for what it describes as a computer error and says it offered Hoffman the maximum payout of $2,500 for that particular slot machine. But, a jury may never decide who is right. Lawyers told ABC News that gamblers like Hoffman may have little legal recourse against Native American casinos, which sometimes operate beyond the reach of U.S. courts.

'I Was a Winner'

Hoffman, a retired Albuquerque city employee, was playing a "Mystical Mermaid" slot machine on the morning of Aug. 16, 2006, when he thought he hit it big.

The nickel slot said he'd won $1,597,244.10. Patrons and casino employees came to congratulate him. He even got a marriage proposal, Hoffman said. But, soon he was asked to come to an executive conference room, where he says he was told the casino refused to pay.

A casino employee "became quite intimidating with me, pointed his finger in my face and said, 'You didn't win. We're not paying you any money. Do you understand what I'm telling you? You're not getting any money,'" Hoffman said.

A technician from the slot machine manufacturer arrived at the casino within the hour and the casino cordoned off the machine.

"I was a winner and I walked out empty handed," Hoffman said.

Computer Malfunction

A technical report said the slot machine's computer malfunctioned, and incorrectly made it appear as if Hoffman won more than the machine is able to pay out. The slot machine has a disclaimer that says it pays a maximum of $2,500 and warns that malfunctions void all winnings, said Paul Bardacke, Sandia's lawyer.

Sovereign Immunity

Regardless, a jury may never get chance to hear Hoffman's case. Native American tribes, as independent nations, have their own court systems and can be sued in state courts only under limited circumstances. New Mexico law generally does not allow tribes to be sued in a state court over a contract dispute, Kleiman said.

Hoffman's lawyers say they should be able to sue the tribe over what they call big business. "They spent millions of dollars getting these customers, these gamblers, to come in and gamble money, then when someone hits it big, they say, 'Sorry, we are not going to pay you," said Hoffman's lawyer, Sam Bregman. "The jury is going to be outraged by that."

READ IT ALL

Follow the Money

It sounds like a step in the right direction but I am not sure how practical it all is. Verifying where every dime comes from would be a problem. (I seem to remember recent contributions to Hillary Clinton from dubious sources - undocumented workers in a chinese restaurant making $1000 & $2000 campaign contributions.)

Casino bill targets big spenders
By Stephanie Vosk also by George Brennan
STAFF WRITERS October 21, 2007

Federal authorities have ordered the Mashpee Wampanoag tribal council to turn over all information about contributions to political candidates and committees.

The request is part of a deepening probe into tribe finances in the wake of chairman Glenn Marshall's Aug. 27 resignation, according to documents obtained by the Times.

Just who is giving political contributions — both for and against — legalizing casino gaming in Massachusetts is also an issue expected to be spotlighted this year as legislators on Beacon Hill gear up for the casino debate.

When individuals give contributions to legislators, it is often hard to tell who is connected to casino interests. A state representative is expected to file a bill this year that would make it clear to the public who is donating money to support or defeat the casino effort and which politicians are getting the most money.

The Wampanoag tribe spurred the gambling debate back to the forefront since receiving federal recognition in the spring.

This winter the debate is expected to intensify as the Legislature begins to consider Gov. Deval Patrick's plan to allow three commercial, resort-style casinos, the licenses for which would be put out to bid. The state's two federally recognized tribes would be given preference for those licenses. The Mashpee Wampanoag want to build a $1 billion Indian casino in Middleboro.

Since Patrick's plan requires legislative approval, casino backers are likely to target members of the House where an uphill fight is expected. The bill is expected to easily pass the state Senate.

The tribe, backed by casino investors since 2000, and its supporters have donated as much as $85,000 to campaigns since 2003, according to state campaign finance records.

Only someone who knows the players, their families and associates, would be able to calculate the total contributions to tribe members, their associates and others who would benefit if casinos are legalized.

Bill to force disclosure

The bill state Rep. Paul Loscocco, R-Holliston, plans to file would force anyone connected with a casino — by ownership, employment or through family members — to disclose that interest when making a political contribution.

"The problem as I see it is not that any legislator is corrupt, but there could be a perception of whether they are making decisions based on their constituents' interest or the interests of a very powerful lobby," Loscocco said Friday.

Though campaign contributions are public record — and easily accessible online — it is not easy to discern the connection between a group of donors who want the same legislative outcome. Those connections are often masked by the names of family members and associates, with varying addresses and occupations.

In the case of the Mashpee Wampanoag, donations are in the names of tribal associates such as lobbyist Stephen Graham, tribal council spokesman Scott Ferson, tribal council attorney William McDermott, and lobbyists James Morris and Robert Quinn, who represent the tribe. The position of these donors is easily discerned.

But then there are donations from Paula Marshall, Alycia Marshall and Evamarie Kidwell — former tribal council chairman Marshall's wife and children.

"It shouldn't be as hard as it is to find the connections between special interests' campaign contributions and their sources," said Pam Wilmot, executive director of Common Cause, a political watchdog group that supports campaign finance reform. "We need to have a better way of making all of this completely transparent."

Common Cause is considering whether to support Loscocco's bill.

"Certainly having more disclosure is important," Wilmot said. "Our initial concern is why this fight should be substantially more important than other fights."

It's not that casinos are the only special interest group that use campaign contributions to gain access to legislators, she said.

The amount of money gaming is expected to generate for the state — Patrick estimates $400 million a year for the three he's proposed — puts casinos in another league, Loscocco said.

A search of other contributions shows it's not just the tribe and their supporters whose connection to casino interests are unclear.

The Carney family, for instance, which owns and operates the Raynham-Taunton greyhound track, has tried for years to secure slot machines and is planning to bid for a casino license.

George, Christopher, Dennis, Heather, Kelly, Laetitia, Maura, Thomas, and Timothy Carney, all of whom are linked in some way to the greyhound park, have donated about $130,000 to state campaigns and committees since 2003, state campaign finance records show.

Christopher Carney alternately lists his occupation on his various campaign contributions as a self-employed attorney, the vice president of Carney Trucking, and the president of American Waste Services, among others, all while using the same Raynham PO box as his address. It is only after a more time-consuming analysis of the contributions that one finds Carney the track owner, Carney the attorney, Carney the trucking executive and Carney the waste services president are the same person.

Big names, big money

Some of the biggest names in casino gaming have either officially announced their intentions to bid on one of the three licenses the state would grant under the governor's proposed plan, or are part of the speculation.

"The problem is how we can get the best decisions out of our government, and that should never be based on how much money one side has over another," Wilmot said.

In Rhode Island last year, more than $10 million was spent on both sides of a referendum question that, if approved, would have allowed an Indian casino in West Warwick.

Among the biggest contributors of the anti-casino campaign were Sol Kerzner and Len Wolman, South African casino moguls who at that same time were inking a deal — worth hundreds of millions of dollars — with the Mashpee Wampanoag to build a casino in Middleboro. Kerzner and Wolman spent $2.6 million in an effort to also protect their investment in the Twin River racino — a race track with slot machines, in Lincoln, R.I.

Those contributions were made through a group called Save our State.

Loscocco said his bill would give voters confidence in the system and the debate.

"There's nothing like the bright light of disclosure to act as the best disinfectant," he said.

"Just a nice bunch of people out to have some fun"

The above might actually describe some people that frequent casinos. The problem is they are not the only type of person casinos attract - derelict grandfathers and car thieves seem to like them too. Whether this Oklahoma grandpa has a gambling problem or just went in to drag grandma away from the slots, this near tragedy would not have happened if the casino did not exist. From NewsOK.com:

Man detained after girl taken from casino parking lot

CONCHO — One man has been detained and authorities are searching for others in connection with the theft of a pickup with a 3-year-old girl asleep inside, FBI Special Agent Gary Johnson said.

Alyssa Lopez, 3, was found unharmed in the back of an abandoned pickup about 6:40 a.m. on the Interstate 40 off-ramp at Peebly Road, Johnson said. The pickup was reported stolen by the girl's grandfather, who went inside Lucky Star Casino in Concho about 2 a.m. and left the girl in the pickup outside the casino. Canadian County Sheriff Lewis Hawkins identified the grandfather as Douglas Gray, 49, of Kingfisher.

Gray reported his pickup stolen about 3:45 a.m. and the Canadian County Sheriff's office issued an Amber Alert about 5:34 a.m.

About 6:30 a.m., a motorist driving east on Interstate 40 exited at Peebly Road and saw the pickup, Johnson said. The man noticed an Amber Alert message on an electronic billboard while driving on I-40.

About 9:30 a.m., law officers stopped a man walking near SE 104 in Oklahoma City, Johnson said. The man, who authorities believe was involved with the theft of the pickup, was detained and later interviewed by FBI agents.

"We are looking for others we believe he arrived at the casino with,” Johnson said. "They are persons of interest.”

The girl was taken to a hospital as a precaution, but appears unharmed, Johnson said.

Hawkins said his office is investigating the case with FBI agents. A decision had not been made this afternoon as to who would take custody of the girl. Hawkins said child neglect complaints naming Gray could be forwarded to the Canadian County District Attorney's office.

Excuse me, how do I get back to America?

When our elected officials start harassing constituents who question them, it is time to ask just what country we are living in. If this were Iran, or Venezuela, I would understand, but last time I checked it was still the United States of America. Perhaps a recall of Mr, Nava is in order if he can't remember that he is supposed to represent ALL of the people. Also note Mr. Nava has received at least $6,400 from the Chumash Casino in donations. My guess is that these gentlemen who had the audacity to question Nava, did not give him any money. From The Editor's News Files at the Santa Ynez Valley Journal:


Two valley men said their efforts to let Assemblyman Pedro Nava, D-Santa Barbara, know how they felt about the way Hwy. 154 was named the Chumash Highway led to an investigation by the threat assessment unit of the California Highway Patrol.

One of the men said that he received a telephone call from a CHP officer who grilled him about his offer to meet with Nava at home to discuss what he felt were legislative shenanigans, while the other man said a uniformed officer knocked at his door at 9 a.m. to inquire about a telephone message he had left for Nava.

Both men denied that they had threatened Nava, and CHP Lt. Andy Menard, who heads the threat assessment unit in Sacramento, agreed that there had been no credible threat against the assemblyman by either of the men.

Nava, for his part, said nothing. The assemblyman was reportedly out of town and did not return calls after a request for a statement was made of his press spokesman. The spokesman declined to make a statement on the record on Nava’s behalf.

“It bothered me that no one in our county knew anything about it when the legislature voted to name the highway,” said Steven Siegel.

“Pedro Nava is aware that naming Hwy. 154 after the Chumash would be very controversial in our county, and to claim that he knew nothing about it until it was a fait accompli stinks. Nobody’s that out of touch,” Siegel said.

“Maybe he really likes the Chumash – I don’t know what his motive was, and I don’t care,” he said. “But Nava is supposed to represent the whole district, and he had an obligation to his constituents to know about it and to tell us about it before it happened.”

Siegel called Nava’s office repeatedly, asking for an opportunity to tell Nava how he felt. Each time, he said, he was rebuffed.

Finally, Siegel said, he told the assemblyman’s chief of staff that he would be in Santa Barbara on Oct. 12 and that he’d like to stop by Nava’s house to talk to him about the issue. The call from the CHP came that evening.

Similarly, Trace Eubanks called Nava to express his feelings about what he considered a sneaky political maneuver to get the highway naming approved by pushing it through the legislature as one of a number of measures bundled together for an all-or-nothing vote.

“I personally don’t care what they call that road,” Eubanks said.

“My main complaint is about renegotiating the size of casinos and the number of machines that they can have,” he said.

“I’ve been to Pedro Nava’s office, because I dropped off a petition with signatures of people opposed to casino expansion. I’ve met Mr. Nava, and he knows that I oppose casino expansion,” he said.

“But I heard 1st District Supervisor Brooks Firestone on the radio talking about the whole community being up in arms about the Chumash Highway things, and how everybody ought to be up in arms about how it was done,” Eubanks said.

“Nava had to know about it in advance,” he said, mentioning Nava’s chairmanship of the committee that reviewed the measure before it went to the floor of the assembly.

“I heard everybody in the valley going off about it, so I called Nava’s office and I left a voice message. I said, ‘I cannot believe you did this without any public notice or debate,’” he said.

“’You have everybody upset and nobody likes it, and believe me you’re going to pay for this,’” he said he told the assemblyman’s voice mail recorder.

Bright and early the next morning, Eubanks said, a local CHP officer came to his door conducting a threat assessment.

“He said that Nava took it as a personal threat and shut down his office and sent everybody home,” Eubanks said.

“I call it a lot of drama; at the CHP’s request I sent him a letter telling him that my message was not meant as a personal threat, but I added that he shouldn’t have run and hid under his bed sheets and called the CHP,” Eubanks said.

Menard, the CHP lieutenant, said the incidents were not so petty that his office would decline to make contact with the men.

“But we determined that there wasn’t a threat,” Menard said. “We understood there wasn’t a threat, but it wasn’t received that way.”

Menard said that his office, which took over responsibility for threat assessment in cases involving the governor, members of the state supreme court and members of the legislature from the California State Police when that department was merged with the CHP in 1995, is called upon to look into possible threats at assembly district offices “a couple of times a month.”

Both men said they were appalled that Nava would resort to accusing them of threatening him and send police to investigate because they believed they were exercising their constitutional right as voters to share their opinions with their elected representative. His use of police investigators, they said, surely was intended to have a chilling effect on constituent dissent.

Disenrollment defined

To disenroll: dis·en·roll Pronunciation [dis-en-rohl] –verb (used with object)
to dismiss or cause to become removed from a program of training, care, etc.
(from dictionary.com)

You might disenroll your child from their school, or disenroll yourself from your worker's union or your current car insurance program. But if you are indian in America you might have a different take on the word. From the LA Weekly by Marc Cooper:

Tribal Purge
State Dems back gambling-rich Indians’ greedy wars of expansion
By MARC COOPER Wednesday, June 13, 2007 - 7:30 pm

YOU KNOW LOCAL, EASTSIDE STATE Senator Gloria Romero, right? The feisty Democratic majority leader in the California Senate? The highest-ranking woman in the state Legislature? Ardent defender of civil liberties, consumers, workers, minorities? Fearless reformer of prisons and rogue police forces? Great.

Now you can add another title: Gloria Romero, faithful in-the-bag servant of wealthy gambling interests.

Romero has written and is carrying an onerous piece of legislation titled “Unlawful Entry: Tribal Land” that would allow California Indian tribes to issue stiff fines against non-tribal members entering what are called “Indian Lands.” The uninitiated here might be scratching their heads asking: Exactly what problem does this bill solve? Aren’t “non-tribal members” just the usual endless flow of pasty-faced patsies hurriedly tooling through the rez eagerly trying to get to the slot machines? Or has there been some unreported invasion of Indian holdings by a Palm Springs cattle-rustling gang?

Hardly. What the tribes are worried about are, in fact, their own members — members who have been booted out of the clan and who still live on the rez or might want to visit family members who do. Booted out, by the way, because the tribal bosses don’t want to share juicy gambling revenues with them. Some of these “disenrolled” members are now among the strongest voices opposing Romero’s bill — arguing that it will be one more cudgel that gambling tribes will use to whip up their profit rates. The result, they say, will be hundreds of the disenrolled getting evicted from their homes, and then banned from visiting relatives who stay behind.

Paranoia? I don’t think so. The casino-owning Pechanga tribe in the Temecula area, for example, has purged some 400 members since 2004, about one-third of its population. And why not? The monthly stipend handed out to enrolled members from casino profits has reportedly doubled since then, now topping out at a handsome $30,000 per month per person. The Pechanga purge was a nasty, Sopranos-like affair — digging up relatives’ graves and scanning the remains for DNA. The tribe hired an independent consultant to oversee the probe and authenticate tribal bloodlines. But when his report revealed that those on the purge list were, indeed, authentic Pechanga Indians, his recommendations and findings were simply ignored and dozens of families lost their income — and their heritage — anyway.

It’s not just the Pechangas who are shaving down the tribal rolls and increasing their own payouts. The Enterprise Rancheria tribe kicked out a third of its 200 members in a 2003 dispute. A few months ago, the Jamul tribe, near San Diego, flattened the homes of two non-tribal families that were in the way of a casino construction site. Statewide, an estimated 3,000 Indians have lost their tribal status since the gambling boom of 2000.

Now, thanks to Romero’s efforts, the hapless members who have been cut off the tribal vig may now get literally tossed right out of their homes. “This bill as written will abuse the civil rights of both tribal and non-tribal citizens,” Cheryl Schmit, of the gambling watchdog group Stand Up for California, told the Weekly.

Romero, like a deck full of other Democrats (and numerous Republicans), is an eager recipient of campaign contributions from the Pechangas, the Agua Caliente, the Morongo and other powerful gambling tribes (she’s also a recipient of contributions from local card clubs). Her voting record shows that a reliable 75 percent of the time Romero votes for tribal gambling interests.

READ IT ALL

Recalling some "family" history

This story ran in the LA Times, in October of 2004. It seems worthy of a re-posting and link here, noting how some members of the tribe were condemned by others for letting this story 'leak'. Kind of makes you wonder what else they would like to cover up....


Free Chips Flowed at Blackjack Table
By Glenn F. Bunting, Times Staff Writer
October 19, 2004

SANTA YNEZ, Calif. — Vincent Armenta kept a promise to take his son to the Chumash Casino on his 18th birthday.

A losing streak at a card table quickly emptied Armenta's wallet. As his losses approached $2,000, Armenta resorted to a strategy not found in "Beat the Dealer" or other blackjack bibles.

"Let's put some green ones out there," he recalled telling the dealer.

The dealer placed free $25 chips in front of each player at the table. At Armenta's urging, the dealer continued to give away chips, valued at $5 to $100 each, for more than an hour.

The game caught the attention of an undercover security officer, who asked a card room supervisor what was going on. The supervisor nodded toward Armenta.

"That's the tribal chairman," he said, according to a report filed by the officer.

As play continued that evening — Dec. 7, 2002 — a casino manager contacted the director of card room operations at home. The director was Anthony Armenta, the chairman's brother, who said he ordered a halt to the game.

In a series of interviews, Vincent Armenta said he never intended to break any laws or pocket any winnings.

"I wasn't there to win any money," Armenta said. "I was trying to create excitement for people at the table."

A welder by trade, Armenta, 41, was elected chairman of the Santa Ynez Band of Mission Indians in 1999. Under his leadership, a new casino resort has brought great wealth to his once-impoverished tribe.

At a special meeting on Dec. 19, 2002, tribal members were shown excerpts from nearly three hours of surveillance videotape of the incident.

Armenta described his actions as "a gross error in judgment" and apologized to the tribe, according to a transcript.

A casino compliance officer told the tribe that Armenta's conduct probably would have violated state gambling laws in Nevada.

An incident report said Armenta committed 11 violations of tribal gaming policy. The loss to the casino was put at $1,400.

At the meeting, two of the tribe's gaming commissioners — chairman Gilbert Cash and longtime member Rudolph Romero — called for Armenta's resignation.

A former tribal chairman spoke out against Armenta's removal, saying it would give the Chumash "another black eye," the transcript shows. "California is in the process of trying to regulate these casinos and shut them down," David Dominguez said. "After so many violations, they will do it."

Armenta refused to step down.

The Chumash gaming commission, a panel of five tribal members responsible for regulating the casino, fined Armenta the maximum $500 per violation and ordered him to reimburse the casino for the lost revenue. The total: approximately $7,000.

The Chumash tribe passed a resolution prohibiting members of the business council and the gaming commission from betting at the casino.

"This incident, if anything, demonstrates that the gaming commission does in fact take its responsibilities seriously," said Glenn Feldman, the Chumash gaming attorney.

A Jan. 3, 2003, letter signed by 14 Chumash Indians condemned members for telling outsiders about the case.

"We are all related here on the reservation," the letter stated. "It does not give anyone the right to send such information that makes us all look bad. It is imperative we find a way to stop these members before they destroy us."

In March 2003, Armenta was elected to a third two-year term as tribal chairman.

If we knew then what we know now...

If the Chumash Tribe had waited until 2007 to start their bid for casino expansion, perhaps Santa Ynez would have had a different landscape along 246 in the future. Maybe if the SY Valley had seen the effect of new indian casinos around the country for the last seven years, actions similar to those of Woodland in Washington State would have been taken. From The Columbian:


Woodland to consider anti-casino resolution
BY JEFFREY MIZE, Columbian staff writer

Woodland could become the third city to pass a resolution opposing the proposed Cowlitz casino and threatening litigation if the federal government approves the project.

The Woodland City Council will consider a three-page draft resolution Monday night that says the casino would have a negative effect on the city's schools, roads, affordable housing stock and social services.

"The city of Woodland has identified gambling addiction - which results in crime, bankruptcy and domestic violence and which strains law enforcement and social services - as a significant negative effect the mega-casino will have on city residents and businesses," the resolution says. "The casino proponents propose no mitigation for the strain on law enforcement and social services the casino will cause."

The resolution goes on to argue that federal approval would be "an abuse of discretion, not supported by the evidence and made without following the required procedures."

In May, both the Vancouver and La Center city councils unanimously adopted resolutions opposing plans for a $510 million casino complex on a 152-acre site a couple miles west of La Center.

The tribe was dealt a stiffer setback in June when the Western Washington Growth Management Hearings Board struck down the agreement the tribe brokered with Clark County in 2004.

Under federal law, the Bureau of Indian Affairs must evaluate the casino's impacts.

Who needs drugs? We've got slots!

Incisive study and analysis on the effects of gambling on the human mind. In PDF format from NCALG (National Coalition Against Legalized Gambling).

Machines: The 'Crack Cocaine' of gambling
Rapid Onset of Pathological Gambling in Machine Gamblers
Dr. Robert Breen and Mark Zimmerman studied the length of time it takes the average compulsive gambler to become addicted and found machines are truly the "crack cocaine" of gambling. They are also the biggest moneymakers in the gambling industry today. They addict victims about three times faster than traditional table and track gambling. (Also see Breen's slides and listen to his talk in our 2004 Conference section)

Click here to read

More on the Chumash Buy-Way

From a comprehensive article by William Etling at Trust and Consequences:

CA - Tombstone Trouble On The Chumash Highway

by William Etling - October 5, 2007

Last Sunday afternoon (September 30), a mock tombstone appeared by the roadside on the newly anointed Chumash Highway, near the intersection with Mission Drive.

A mock tombstone appeared by the roadside on the newly anointed Chumash Highway, near the intersection with Mission Drive.

It read "RIP - Community's Voice, Sept. 2007. Killed on the Chumash 'Buy-way' by government, recklessly driving under the influence of power and money."

By Monday afternoon, it was flat in the dirt, and the flower pots formerly at its base were scattered in all directions.

It's just the latest mini-round in an old sparring match. For the Chumash people, the new name was a long overdue tribute to their ancient culture.

Chairman Armenta said, "The news was met with a round of applause from our tribal membership. The smiles in the room could have lit up all of Santa Ynez Valley. The Chumash Highway represents the respect and recognition that members of the California Legislature have for Native Americans. It demonstrates that they understand the tribe's historical significance in the area."

For Casino opponents who have long believed that state and federal legislators are in the pocket of gambling interests, it was proof once again that just because you're paranoid doesn't mean people aren't plotting against you.

"Our outrage is about the pattern of a broken representative process favoring big gambling interests," said Kathryn Bowen of Preservation of Los Olivos (POLO). "This is about how an out of area San Jose assemblyman, Joe Coto, can get a bill passed that has long reaching ramifications for a community that he has nothing to do with. This is about an appalling pattern of circumvention of the local community to create a Casino Company Town."

Chairman Armenta countered, "It is truly sad that our tribal opponents cannot accept history and appreciate, respect and revere the fact that the Chumash lived on this land for thousands of years. Instead, they prefer to hurl accusations and scream foul play."

Jon Bowen, President of Preservation of Santa Ynez (POSY) said, "Our elected officials are promoting the use of a state highway as a marketing tool for a two hundred and fifty million dollar a year tax-exempt gambling enterprise...Re-naming Highway 154 has nothing to do with honoring the Chumash culture. This is about hijacking a name for marketing purposes."

Read it all....