MISSOURI WATCH: NEW STATE MOTTO SEEMS APPROPRIATE

It does not seem inappropriate to suggest that a suitable empty wall be designated, in Missouri's historic and beautiful state Capitol to install what has become a more modern, realistic characterization of our state. Emblazoned around the Capitol is our motto adopted more than a century and a half ago: "Salus Populi Suprema Lex Esto." Since so few bother to learn Latin anymore, here's the translation: "Let the welfare of the people be the supreme law."

I've always thought the motto's sentiment scaled the heights of inspirational creativity, serving as a reminder to all who have the privilege of serving the public of the need for their utmost dedication to the public good, placing it above all other considerations that might impede Missouri's progress to democracy, or at least of its close approximation. In light of recent events, however, old "Salus Populi Suprema ..." seems almost out of date, merely a whimsical reminder that at one time in history our state was concerned about public good.

The 1822-adopted motto never seemed more inappropriate than after the recent general election when we voters embraced both Constitutional Amendment No. 8 and No. 9, two measures that confirmed once and for all the changing mood of today's citizens and the officials elected to serve them. Approval of these two constitutional changes signaled not only public policy alterations but a whole new direction for government of people, by the people and for the people.

In a word, the amendment approvals confirm the existence of a state that has, in a period of less than a decade, become one of the nation's most gambling-intensive states to be found this side of Las Vegas. Indeed, a study just completed by the Council of State Governments places Missouri as the fourth-ranking risk-intensive region in the United States. It's like making a Letterman Top 10 List of the Least Desirable States in America. The problem is that the November 3 election returns mean that a majority of us don't consider organized gambling to be undesirable; indeed, we find it not only desirable but enhancing to our state's economy and its environment.

Numerous Missourians have wondered why their state should have adopted, prior to this decade, such stringent, restrictive laws against gambling, without fully appreciating the conditions within our state at the time of their adoption. These laws were almost all approved during the 1930s, at a time when the state was enmeshed in the vicious operations of the Pendergast machine, which had its base in Kansas City but which was a potential force throughout the entire state. The group was led by Tom Pendergast, an ambitious sociopath who sought to control one city's politics, its policies and eventually its entire government. So successful was this organization that it soon was the dominant force not only in the state's second largest city but in its largest urban area, not to mention scores of outstate communities. It was only a matter of time until Boss Tom was able to dictate who would become Missouri's governor and who would occupy its legislative seats.

For a decade and a half, the Pendergast organization dominated this state as it had never been before nor since. One of Tom's many sources of income -- and he had virtual check-writing powers in Kansas City government -- was illegal gambling, which ran the gamut from slot machines to punch cards. Pendergast saw to it that Missouri was an open, sin-filled state, featuring every sin known to man, including his own creation: half-nude restaurant waitresses. In between time, the group got its kicks by assaulting nosy reporters, putting the arm on recalcitrant merchants who didn't want to sell Tom's illegal products and controlling political destinies that ranged from city alderman to the Vice President (later to become President), who flew from Washington to Kansas City on board a government plane to attend Boss Tom's funeral services. Said services, by the way, were delayed until Mr. Truman arrived.

It was against this backdrop that brave, even fearless, Missourians fought the good fight and finally threw a monkey wrench into the Pendergast machinations. One of the tools used was the adoption of strict anti-gambling laws, which were designed to curtail some of the hundreds of thousands of dollars that were making their way into Pendergast pockets. These laws helped send Boss Tom to prison, and this action began the welcome extermination and long-overdue demise of arguably the worst political organization in the annals of America.

The morality sustained by these laws served Missouri and its citizens well for decades, and the skein was only interrupted when other political forces sought the loosening of state restrictions on gambling. The plan was simple enough: start with charity-run bingo games, then move to other venues such as parimutuel horse racing, then a state lottery, then poker and dice, then slot machines provided by Vegas gamblers, then sweepstakes and raffles, and eventually casinos on barges to reduce capital costs and maximize syndicate profits.

The only difference between this agenda and the one adopted by Pendergast thugs is that we have now pledged some of the state's revenue to education, but don't look for huge sums to improve schools or you will be disappointed. Much of the money is going elsewhere by political whim. But the agenda is not quite finished, with the final touches to be added when next year's General Assembly convenes and lobbyists will seek to end the loss-limit rules and terminate the earlier promised boarding requirements. Compulsive gamblers don't like to feel restricted in their ability to lose their lifetime savings or the family homestead, and so the rules will be scratched.

All of this will be done under the neon-lit glow of Missouri's newly sanctioned motto: "Let the good times roll! "How appropriate.

~Jack Stapleton of Kennett is the editor of Missouri News and Editorial Service.