Problem gamblers finding work in Missouri casinos

Clayton Bellamy

Monday, March 11, 2002 | 9:40 a.m.

Patty Farr is again repairing slot machines in a St. Louis-area casino, working the graveyard shift at a job she lost two years ago when she barred herself from riverboat gambling.

Farr's betting had estranged her husband, shamed her two children and stacked tall odds against making the monthly mortgage. She needed help.

But she knew joining the state's program for problem gamblers would cost her her job, which provided better pay and benefits than someone without a college degree could typically get elsewhere.

Farr signed up anyway, despite mounting debts and kids to feed.

At that time, the voluntary exclusion program prohibited problem gamblers from entering Missouri casinos for any reason. But Farr's story led the Missouri Gaming Commission last year to allow barred problem gamblers into casinos for work or to apply for jobs.

Since the change took effect May 31, at least 50 casino employees and others whose jobs take them to Missouri riverboats have joined the list without losing their positions. And more, like Farr, have gotten casino work despite their permanent bans.

"It has benefitted other people and that's what it was intended for," says Farr, 37, who resumed repairing slot machines in September.

Gaming commissioners and counselors say the exemption's benefits outweigh the risk that a problem gambler could be lured back to the dice and tables that entice them.

But whether working in a casino has contributed to a program member's relapse is virtually impossible to determine.

Calls to the state's problem gambler's hot line, 1-888-BETSOFF, are usually anonymous, officials say. The state's Department of Mental Health, which provides some free counseling for problem gamblers, tracks only the total number of Missourians seeking help, with no notation of whether they are casino employees who've barred themselves.

Missouri's 11 riverboats also report no impact from the rule change, and neither counselors nor state regulators have heard any anecdotal evidence of relapses, they say.

Even so, there are critics.

When the commission was voting on the proposal last January, members said approving it would mean problem gamblers wouldn't have to choose between help and their job. The measure had the support of Farr, of course, and from counselors, too.

Problem gamblers commonly have financial problems, and experts say they often decide against getting help, if doing so will cost them their only source of income.

"The right to work is important," said Keith Spare, a compulsive gambling counselor at Rodgers Health Center-South in Kansas City. "So it would make sense to me that an individual be able to seek employment at a casino, especially if they are in recovery and haven't gambled for a while."

Melissa Stephens, who oversees the program for the commission, says the new exception is helping. That's at least 50 "people who don't have to find another job," Stephens says.

Mark Andrews, chairman of gambling opponent Casino Watch, says his St. Louis-based group neither fought nor supported the rule change.

Employees shouldn't lose their jobs just because they develop a gambling problem, Andrews said. But those people wouldn't have a problem if the state didn't allow gambling, he added.

The casinos and the commissioners "think if an employee has a gambling problem they can still come to the casino but they can't play the games, that's maybe just getting awfully close to the fire and hoping you don't get hurt," Andrews says.

Farr, who hasn't gambled since joining the state program, is just happy to be back at work.

"I loved my job," she says. "The casino industry offers a lot of opportunities for people who don't have a lot of education, like me."