KEEP SAFEGUARDS ON GAMBLING

I was recently called to testify before the National Gambling Impact Study Commission and present information about the social impact of gambling in Missouri. Established by Congress, this nine-member commission is charged with the responsibility of studying the rapid growth of legalized gambling in America. It is scheduled to issue its recommendations by June 1999.

The day before I was to testify, time was set aside for public comment. Anyone wishing to speak before the commission was required to register in advance for the limited number of three-minute time slots available. Gambling opponents were conspicuously outnumbered by nearly two to one, and most of those in favor of gambling were casino employees.

A media representative interviewed several of these casino workers, asking how they learned about the commission's meeting. They indicated that a union representative had given them the commission's phone number and told them when to call.

Though these individuals said their testimony was not scripted, they read (for exactly three minutes each) how their lives have been changed by casinos. Their stories were compelling. One "former welfare mother" after another told the commission that, thanks to casinos, they now had jobs and security for their families.

I don't doubt their sincerity, and there's no disputing that the boats have provided jobs. But I wonder if these individuals know the price other families are paying to help provide their casino-generated income?

Had they heard about the Kansas City-area stockbroker who is in financial ruin because of his gambling debt? He was responsible for managing other people's money, but now his mother must manage his finances.

Or what about the schoolteacher who must make the rounds on payday -- visiting 20 to 30 loan companies -- to pay the interest on loans he's taken out to gamble?

Are their slightly-better-than-minimum-wage jobs worth the pain and anguish of the family of an addition therapist who, after amassing huge credit-card debt at the riverboats, tried to commit suicide? He was found unconscious after he faked an accident by drinking poison. He survived, but has since relapsed into his compulsive behaviors at least once.

Testifying before a commission takes courage. But could they face the family of the St. Louis-area woman who, after losing her children's college savings at the boats, sent her kids off to school, walked down the steps to the basement and fatally shot herself in the head with a .357-caliber Magnum?

The list could continue. The only limitation is space -- not a lack of stories about people whose lives have been altered or destroyed by gambling.

No pun intended, but I don't believe the odds are great that we can close down all the boats and gambling outlets in Missouri anytime soon. Clearly, that's not realistic.

My goal in testifying, however, was to raise public awareness concerning the impact of gambling on our communities. Though we may not be able to make gambling disappear overnight, we must, at the very least, tighten restrictions and safeguards that were agreed to by the citizens of Missouri and the gambling interests when the boats first were allowed to come into our state.

When Missourians know the full story of gambling's impact, I don't believe they will tolerate any further spread of the gambling industry's influence or its freedom to operate with fewer and fewer restrictions.

Paul Scianna is executive director of the Family Policy Center in Kansas City.