Portrait of a gambling addict

Mike Glover

Monday, Aug. 6, 2001 | 11:20 a.m.

DES MOINES, Iowa -- For Charlie Nelson, reality came crashing down late one night after he'd once again lied to his wife about what he was planning to do the next day.

That's because what he was doing the next day was what he did every day -- gamble.

"I found myself not only on the way to financial trouble but on my way to spiritual bankruptcy," Nelson said.

Nelson doesn't fit the profile most associated with problem gamblers. He's far from flashy and spent 30 years teaching history at Drake University. His interest began when the state allowed pari-mutuel betting in 1983.

"I've always been fascinated by horse racing," said Nelson, who became a racing devotee. Betting a few bucks on the nags simply added to the interest.

Then the state got serious about gambling, with riverboat gambling and slot machines at the tracks.

"Those slots just reached out and grabbed me," said Nelson, 65, who said gambling slowly began to take over his life. He was, after all, retired by this time and comfortably fixed.

"I had a lot of time on my hands and a disposable pension income," he said.

While Nelson said he had no idea how much money he gambled away, he conceded it was a lot. Like most gamblers, he hid the extent of his losses and the time he devoted to trying to win it back

"I became reclusive and manipulative and, frankly, I lied to my wife," Nelson said. "Every night when I went to bed I thought about how I was going to get there the next day."

Nelson kept a journal and, looking back at his writing, he sensed the addiction even before he could admit it publicly.

"Being a slave is no fun," Nelson said. "When you're at the edge of the abyss, life loses its value."

Nelson said he finally was no longer able to tolerate his increasing isolation, and coupled that with a new commitment to his religion. That nudged him into a gambler's treatment program and into Gamblers Anonymous, where he still attends meetings.

"It is a vicious cycle," Nelson said. "Most people don't understand what I'm talking about, but people at the meetings understand. I'm in recovery now and very, very happy about that."

As therapy, Nelson has immersed himself in the anti-gambling cause, trying to rally voters to cancel the licenses for casinos he used to haunt.

"I'm going to spend the rest of my life trying to change public attitudes about casinos," he said. "It's a long haul and we don't have much prospect for success."

Nelson said gambling addiction could be far more prevalent than many assume, with a lot of gamblers joking about losses to mask a deeper addiction.

"It is a hidden disease and it could be that up to 5 percent are problem gamblers," Nelson said.