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Those Damn Connecticut Casinos
Gambler blames casino for addiction
By Robert Miller
THE NEWS-TIMES
2002-05-27
DANBURY — Dreaming about a new Indian casino only a few minutes away? Let Judith Niland tell you about the wonder of it all.
In 1993, Niland was a PTA-attending, Little League-supporting parent. She was an elected official active in her hometown of Meriden, and an active participant in civic affairs. She had money in the bank and a reasonable hope of buying a retirement condo in Florida.
That was the year she went to the Foxwoods Casino with $30 borrowed from her home’s petty cash fund in her purse. By 1996, she’d lost her entire life savings and maxed out 17 credit cards.
“I lived 56 miles away,’’ said Niland, who was one on a panel of experts who spoke in Danbury this month about gambling addiction. “That meant I could drive to the casino, drive home, get more money and drive right back.’’
She had learned to lie to her co-workers about spending an afternoon with the doctor or dentist when she was actually spending all her time in front of the Foxwoods slot machines. Gambling drove her from respectability to the brink of suicide.
So when the Schaghticoke Indian tribe in Kent now starts talking about the financial benefits of bringing a casino to western Connecticut, it’s people like Niland — now a full-time counselor with the state’s Office of Problem Gambling Services — who can offer a rebuttal.
“I don’t think this would have happened to me without the casino,’’ she said.
At the forum where Niland spoke — sponsored by the Coalition Against Gambling Expansion, which opposes a tribal casino in the region — she and others explained that gambling addiction is as real, as demoralizing and ruinous as drugs and alcohol.
But unlike other addictions, there’s no physical signs of decline. That makes it much harder to detect.
“Gambling doesn’t smell,’’ said Jim Cream, director of community relations for the Midwestern Connecticut Council of Alcoholism, where the forum was held. “It doesn’t dilate your pupils. You can walk a straight line.’’
Instead, the speakers at the forum said, it simply wrecks your life, destroying family solidarity and financial stability.
“There are arguments,’’ said Jean Lubus, president of Stand Up and Make a Difference, which runs programs in Danbury to prevent addictions “People are ashamed to come home because they’ve maxed out the credit cards. When they do come home, the children are angry.’’
They also talked about how our society as a whole tacitly condones gambling, whether it be through the state’s incessant pushing of lottery tickets or kids restaurants that give them tokens to put in a flashing machine with a handle.
“I’m asking about gambling when I counsel people today,’’ Lubus said. “I’m finding people with problems with football pools, card games, lottery tickets.
“That’s why, when I hear about casinos here, my fears are real,’’ Lubus said. “I know if there is one, the incidence of gambling addiction will go up very quickly.’’
The problem is already here. Dr. Henry Blansfield, a retired Danbury physician and a specialist in addiction problems, said it’s now estimated more than 5 percent of Americans have problems with gambling. And because experts have arrived at that number by asking gamblers themselves, it’s probably low.
“I know if someone had called me at home with my family there and asked if I had a problem with gambling, I would have never told them about myself,’’ the 56-year old Niland said.
Blansfield said that today, 48 of the 50 states in the United States allow some sort of gambling — the exceptions are Utah and Hawaii. Thirty states have casinos, and gross gambling revenues in the United States exceeded $61 billion a year in 2000.
Gambling addicts, Blansfield said, find that the activity of gambling — not the winning — gives their brain a jolt of endorphins, which are pain-relieving, pleasure-causing chemicals.
That jolt soon takes on all the characteristics of an addicting drug and the problem gamblers show the signs of addiction. Their tolerance levels grow so that it takes more and more gambling to satisfy them. They go through classic withdrawal symptoms when they can’t gamble. They ignore their family and friends. And they cannot control their need to gamble.
Niland’s experience fits the mode.
“Most people, if they won $5,000 at a slot machine would walk away,’’ she said. “For me, it meant I didn’t have to leave. I’d pray to God ‘Let me win and I’ll leave.’ I’d win and I wouldn’t leave.’’
A serious, debilitating depression can often follow in the wake of a gambling binge. That, in turn, keeps family members at a distance. Blansfield also pointed out that alcohol flows freely at casinos. That can lead to other drug use. Throw prostitution into the mix and you’ve got the perfect mix to spread sexually-transmitted diseases, including HIV.
“There are 30,000 suicides a year in the United States now,’’ Blansfield said. “The two cities with the highest rates of suicide are Las Vegas and Atlantic City.’’
What the speakers pointed out, ruefully at the meeting, is that because casinos now make so much money, they’ve become established parts of American society. Gambling is “gaming.” Senior centers now sponsor bus trips to the casinos. Places like Las Vegas — and the Connecticut Indian casinos — now package themselves as family entertainment resorts. That, in turn, teaches children it’s OK to do some serious gambling.
“They like to call themselves ‘Disneyland for adults,' " Cream said.
Connecticut spends only $1.4 million on all its gambling addiction programs. At least it provides some money; of the 48 states that allow some form of gambling, only 10 to 12 fund counseling for gambling addiction. The issue isn’t taken seriously — Blansfield said he’s tried and failed to get school anti-drug programs to talk about what gambling can do to people’s lives.
“It’s necessary information,’’ he said. “It should start at grade 4 and continue into high school.’’
It took the realization that gambling was putting her family’s lives at risk for Judith Niland to face up to the consequences of her life as a player.
In the summer of 1996, she was supposed to go to a bridal shower. The day before, she left work, went to Foxwoods and spent the entire night playing the slot machines. She arrived back home the next morning with five minutes to spare — enough time to wash the coin stains off her soiled hands, but not enough to shower, change her clothes, or do her hair.
“I was exhausted,’’ she said.
On her way home on I-95 — crowded with summer afternoon beach traffic — Niland began to nod off with her mother, sister and daughter-in- law in the car. She had to marshal all her diminishing reserves of energy not to crash.
“I said ‘God, just let me get my family home safely,’ ’’ Niland, said. “It was only then that I could admit to myself I had a gambling problem.’’
It took her a year of intensive counseling and four-times-a-week attendance at Gamblers Anonymous meetings before she began to recover from her three years in front of the slot machines.
Even now, there are still scars that can tear at her psyche. Recently, she drove on a stretch of highway she used to travel to get to Foxwoods and was profoundly frightened — not by the casino, but by the sight of a bridge abutment — on more than one occasion in her gambling days, she’d planned to crash her car into the abutment and kill herself.
And yet, she said, she knows now there was a reason for her addiction and her recovery.
“I know how hard it is to stop,’’ she said. “When I meet someone who is a gambling addict, I can talk about that. But I can also tell them ‘You can stop. There is hope. And with hope, all things are possible.’ ’’
To reach the Coalition Against Gambling Expansion, which opposes a tribal casino in the region, call Rick Edwards, pastor of the United Methodist Church in Danbury at (203) 743-1503 or Dessain Terry, the coalition’s interim chairman at (203) 743-4400.
If you are a problem gambler and need help, call the state’s hotline at 1-800-346-6238 or its anti-gambling program, A Bettor Choice at (860) 344-2244.
By Robert Miller
THE NEWS-TIMES
2002-05-27
DANBURY — Dreaming about a new Indian casino only a few minutes away? Let Judith Niland tell you about the wonder of it all.
In 1993, Niland was a PTA-attending, Little League-supporting parent. She was an elected official active in her hometown of Meriden, and an active participant in civic affairs. She had money in the bank and a reasonable hope of buying a retirement condo in Florida.
That was the year she went to the Foxwoods Casino with $30 borrowed from her home’s petty cash fund in her purse. By 1996, she’d lost her entire life savings and maxed out 17 credit cards.
“I lived 56 miles away,’’ said Niland, who was one on a panel of experts who spoke in Danbury this month about gambling addiction. “That meant I could drive to the casino, drive home, get more money and drive right back.’’
She had learned to lie to her co-workers about spending an afternoon with the doctor or dentist when she was actually spending all her time in front of the Foxwoods slot machines. Gambling drove her from respectability to the brink of suicide.
So when the Schaghticoke Indian tribe in Kent now starts talking about the financial benefits of bringing a casino to western Connecticut, it’s people like Niland — now a full-time counselor with the state’s Office of Problem Gambling Services — who can offer a rebuttal.
“I don’t think this would have happened to me without the casino,’’ she said.
At the forum where Niland spoke — sponsored by the Coalition Against Gambling Expansion, which opposes a tribal casino in the region — she and others explained that gambling addiction is as real, as demoralizing and ruinous as drugs and alcohol.
But unlike other addictions, there’s no physical signs of decline. That makes it much harder to detect.
“Gambling doesn’t smell,’’ said Jim Cream, director of community relations for the Midwestern Connecticut Council of Alcoholism, where the forum was held. “It doesn’t dilate your pupils. You can walk a straight line.’’
Instead, the speakers at the forum said, it simply wrecks your life, destroying family solidarity and financial stability.
“There are arguments,’’ said Jean Lubus, president of Stand Up and Make a Difference, which runs programs in Danbury to prevent addictions “People are ashamed to come home because they’ve maxed out the credit cards. When they do come home, the children are angry.’’
They also talked about how our society as a whole tacitly condones gambling, whether it be through the state’s incessant pushing of lottery tickets or kids restaurants that give them tokens to put in a flashing machine with a handle.
“I’m asking about gambling when I counsel people today,’’ Lubus said. “I’m finding people with problems with football pools, card games, lottery tickets.
“That’s why, when I hear about casinos here, my fears are real,’’ Lubus said. “I know if there is one, the incidence of gambling addiction will go up very quickly.’’
The problem is already here. Dr. Henry Blansfield, a retired Danbury physician and a specialist in addiction problems, said it’s now estimated more than 5 percent of Americans have problems with gambling. And because experts have arrived at that number by asking gamblers themselves, it’s probably low.
“I know if someone had called me at home with my family there and asked if I had a problem with gambling, I would have never told them about myself,’’ the 56-year old Niland said.
Blansfield said that today, 48 of the 50 states in the United States allow some sort of gambling — the exceptions are Utah and Hawaii. Thirty states have casinos, and gross gambling revenues in the United States exceeded $61 billion a year in 2000.
Gambling addicts, Blansfield said, find that the activity of gambling — not the winning — gives their brain a jolt of endorphins, which are pain-relieving, pleasure-causing chemicals.
That jolt soon takes on all the characteristics of an addicting drug and the problem gamblers show the signs of addiction. Their tolerance levels grow so that it takes more and more gambling to satisfy them. They go through classic withdrawal symptoms when they can’t gamble. They ignore their family and friends. And they cannot control their need to gamble.
Niland’s experience fits the mode.
“Most people, if they won $5,000 at a slot machine would walk away,’’ she said. “For me, it meant I didn’t have to leave. I’d pray to God ‘Let me win and I’ll leave.’ I’d win and I wouldn’t leave.’’
A serious, debilitating depression can often follow in the wake of a gambling binge. That, in turn, keeps family members at a distance. Blansfield also pointed out that alcohol flows freely at casinos. That can lead to other drug use. Throw prostitution into the mix and you’ve got the perfect mix to spread sexually-transmitted diseases, including HIV.
“There are 30,000 suicides a year in the United States now,’’ Blansfield said. “The two cities with the highest rates of suicide are Las Vegas and Atlantic City.’’
What the speakers pointed out, ruefully at the meeting, is that because casinos now make so much money, they’ve become established parts of American society. Gambling is “gaming.” Senior centers now sponsor bus trips to the casinos. Places like Las Vegas — and the Connecticut Indian casinos — now package themselves as family entertainment resorts. That, in turn, teaches children it’s OK to do some serious gambling.
“They like to call themselves ‘Disneyland for adults,' " Cream said.
Connecticut spends only $1.4 million on all its gambling addiction programs. At least it provides some money; of the 48 states that allow some form of gambling, only 10 to 12 fund counseling for gambling addiction. The issue isn’t taken seriously — Blansfield said he’s tried and failed to get school anti-drug programs to talk about what gambling can do to people’s lives.
“It’s necessary information,’’ he said. “It should start at grade 4 and continue into high school.’’
It took the realization that gambling was putting her family’s lives at risk for Judith Niland to face up to the consequences of her life as a player.
In the summer of 1996, she was supposed to go to a bridal shower. The day before, she left work, went to Foxwoods and spent the entire night playing the slot machines. She arrived back home the next morning with five minutes to spare — enough time to wash the coin stains off her soiled hands, but not enough to shower, change her clothes, or do her hair.
“I was exhausted,’’ she said.
On her way home on I-95 — crowded with summer afternoon beach traffic — Niland began to nod off with her mother, sister and daughter-in- law in the car. She had to marshal all her diminishing reserves of energy not to crash.
“I said ‘God, just let me get my family home safely,’ ’’ Niland, said. “It was only then that I could admit to myself I had a gambling problem.’’
It took her a year of intensive counseling and four-times-a-week attendance at Gamblers Anonymous meetings before she began to recover from her three years in front of the slot machines.
Even now, there are still scars that can tear at her psyche. Recently, she drove on a stretch of highway she used to travel to get to Foxwoods and was profoundly frightened — not by the casino, but by the sight of a bridge abutment — on more than one occasion in her gambling days, she’d planned to crash her car into the abutment and kill herself.
And yet, she said, she knows now there was a reason for her addiction and her recovery.
“I know how hard it is to stop,’’ she said. “When I meet someone who is a gambling addict, I can talk about that. But I can also tell them ‘You can stop. There is hope. And with hope, all things are possible.’ ’’
To reach the Coalition Against Gambling Expansion, which opposes a tribal casino in the region, call Rick Edwards, pastor of the United Methodist Church in Danbury at (203) 743-1503 or Dessain Terry, the coalition’s interim chairman at (203) 743-4400.
If you are a problem gambler and need help, call the state’s hotline at 1-800-346-6238 or its anti-gambling program, A Bettor Choice at (860) 344-2244.
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