Chief faces ouster from gambling-rich Seminoles

Catherine Wilson

Tuesday, March 11, 2003 | 9:23 a.m.

FORT LAUDERDALE, Fla. -- James Billie, the suspended Seminole chief with an iron will and wily business sense, wants his old job back running the empire he built on gambling and tourism.

Other Seminole leaders say Billie and his associates used the tribe as a personal piggybank to fritter away tens of millions on questionable business deals and extravagant spending. Indian leaders will meet this week to decide whether to oust him.

Tribal officials suspended Billie nearly two years ago over his financial dealings and an employee's sexual harassment complaint. The tribe is suing Billie, claiming he and the tribe's business manager lost $20 million by shifting the tribe's investments to a broker friend who went on a $100 million day-trading binge in one year.

The tribe cleared the way more than two decades ago for the mushrooming $12.7 billion-a-year Indian gambling industry when the U.S. Supreme Court backed its right to operate a high-stakes bingo hall over state objections. Gambling became a rags-to-riches story for the Seminoles.

But some tribal members and outsiders familiar with the Seminoles say the fortune has bred an extended dysfunctional family that serves as an example of what's wrong with Indian tribes today and the ineffective oversight and accountability of their riches.

To tribal member Gloria Wilson, the welfare of the tribe has gotten lost in the power struggle for Seminole leadership. Times have changed from the days when her family furnished its house with government surplus and most of the reservation's housing and roads were federal projects.

Today a chunk of profits from the Seminoles' high-stakes bingo, low-stakes poker and video betting is spread among its 2,800 members. Each man, woman and child receives $36,000 a year. There is talk of raising it to $60,000.

Health care and college tuition are guaranteed for members, and "the money has been good for the people." But Wilson still has misgivings and gets angry when friends ask, "Where have you been hiding your BMW?"

"I'd like to see new leadership all the way across the board," said Wilson, who is organizing a get-out-the-vote campaign for May tribal elections. "You still have people living in a three-bedroom home with eight, 12 members in a family, and there's no excuse for that if we're really as flush as everybody says we are."

Billie, the Seminoles' chief from 1979 to 2001, had a $15 million-a-year personal kitty, a $312,000-a-year salary and dictated most tribal spending. Other council members are authorized to dole out $5 million a year each -- and more if they wished.

The extravagant spending was the highlight of a federal trial in December of last year that charged $2.7 million in unauthorized money went to secret accounts in Nicaragua and Belize. Billie testified the money moves were in fact secret but approved by him for a new tribal Internet gambling venture opposed by other tribal leaders and its attorney.

The judge cut the trial short in December and issued acquittals after the defense demonstrated a disturbing pattern of lax financial oversight and muddled leadership.

Billie has launched many pet projects and routinely notified other tribal leaders afterward. An aviation nut, he boasts about buying a corporate jet from Jordan's King Hussein and putting money into a small plane maker. But he acknowledges Seminole leaders have been "spending foolishly."

Council member David Cypress testified that he blew through $57 million in less than three years, showering friends and relatives with Mercedes-Benzes, Lexuses and other luxury cars. He bought so many cars for tribal members that he said he had "no ballpark idea" how many he signed for.

"We're going through a process where there's too much money at one time," Cypress testified at the trial. The high school graduate with hair to his waist conceded, "I flunked in math so I don't know anything about numbers."

The tribe is ratcheting up its gambling venture by spending $410 million with partner Hard Rock Cafe to build two casino-hotel resorts in Tampa and Hollywood.

By federal law and U.S. Supreme Court order, Seminole gambling is free of state oversight.

The National Indian Gaming Commission audits gambling ventures but has limited power to examine how tribes spend the profits, said Richard Schiff, the commission's acting chief of staff. He would not say whether investigators are looking into the Seminole trial revelations.

"We don't want to get in the business of second guessing government decisions by the tribe on the one hand. On the other hand, if gaming revenue is going into the pockets of a few individuals, that would be a concern," Schiff said. "So it's a fine line."

The federal agency overseeing nearly 200 Indian gambling operations has a staff of less than 65 and a congressionally capped budget below $9 million. In contrast, the enforcement division of the Nevada Gaming Control Board has 118 employees in an agency with a $29.5 million budget.

Tribes, rather than the federal commission, do their own background checks on employees and vendors. In Nevada, the state bears that expense.

Federal prosecutors targeted Billie, but he was not indicted in the case that went to trial in Fort Lauderdale. Prosecutors hoped the indicted employees would turn around and implicate Billie, but no one did.

In January the tribe sued Billie and his hand-picked manager, Tim Cox, claiming they drained $30 million from the tribe's treasury. Cox is one of the acquitted tribal workers.

A sexual harassment suit filed around the same time Billie was suspended in May 2001 was dismissed but is being appealed by a fired tribal employee who claimed she had an unwanted abortion after Billie got her pregnant.

Billie is accused of violating the tribe's constitution and his oath of office through lies, deceit, misrepresentations and the destruction of employment records in ways that were at least disruptive "and in the worst light would be tantamount to treason."

Billie's attorney Robert Saunooke denies any wrongdoing by him, says he has nothing to hide and insists tribal leaders knew what was going on.

Insiders say talks about a financial settlement with Billie have gone on for months. But Billie and his attorney are threatening to sue if the council casts the required four unanimous votes for removal at a meeting Thursday.

No one knows for sure what will happen with Billie's suspended chairmanship if the vote falls short, but he already is campaigning to return to the tribe's top post in May.

Joel Hirschhorn, attorney for Cypress' brother and fellow council member Mitchell Cypress, acknowledged the tribe has wasted money but said management has changed since Billie's removal and new financial controls have been imposed.

The spendthrift ways of council members are "offensive to a lot of people," he said. "But the bottom line is white man never cared how red man spent money until he had money."