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In February, Wolf called for Secretary of the Interior Gale Norton to suspend approvals and launch an investigation of the bureau for possible irregularities in "exploiting Indians and potentially corrupting government officials."

The NCAGE has made Indian casino expansion its 2004 focus precisely because of the "reservation shopping" done by gambling investors, says Tom Grey, NCAGE executive director and a United Methodist minister in Rockford, Illinois. "The fact that casinos now can move off reservations violates the spirit of IGRA."

Many small cities and towns, though, aren't all that concerned about a tribe's legitimacy or the spirit of IGRA. For first-term Barstow mayor Lawrence E. Dale, the key issue is creating jobs.

"We're not turning away anything that will bring jobs, and the casino would bring over 1,600 jobs," Dale says at Barstow's city hall. City officials frame the debate by pitting those who want economic progress against those who don't. First-year revenues at the casino, backed by developer BarWest Gaming, are projected at $175 million. Barstow contains several empty and boarded-up businesses, including Sears, JCPenney, Kmart, and Yellow Freight.

In fact, casinos do make a difference to some economies. Doug Elmets, spokesman for the United Auburn tribe and the Thunder Valley Casino outside of Sacramento, says the newly opened casino employs 2,000 people and pumps $30 million annually into the economy through vendor contracts. Immediately after the casino opened, the 255 members of the tribe received medical insurance, dental coverage, and vision care, plus a pension program, Elmets says.

Facts like these make the struggle against Indian casinos harder for many.

A few blocks from the state capitol in Sacramento, five Christian activists met on a Monday morning to plot strategy. They gathered at an inner-city United Methodist church where Harvey Chinn, an NCAGE member, is on staff.

The glue that holds the anti-gambling forces together is Cheryl Schmit, director of Stand Up for California, a grassroots watchdog group. Schmit is a former librarian at a Catholic high school. She became an activist a few years ago when the 247-member United Auburn Indian tribe—which had disbanded 40 years earlier—received congressional recognition and planned to open its casino within a mile of her home in Penryn. Thirty miles north of Sacramento along I-80, Penryn has 2,000 residents and a median income of $30,000.

Schmit convinced Placer County officials to move the 1,900-slot Thunder Valley casino to a less obtrusive location.

The casino opened a year ago off Highway 65 north of the Sacramento suburb of Rocklin, far from residential areas. Cows and a sanitary landfill are the closest neighbors. Schmit also ensured that casino operators, rather than taxpayers, paid for street and sewer installation.

Schmit now travels the state advising community groups on how to confront cities seeking casino revenue—and giving hope to discouraged activists.

Yuba County Supervisor Dan Logue assumed office in 2001 and opposes a casino that the board of supervisors had approved before his election.

"This casino will be built only if the body of Christ allows it," Logue says in his real-estate office in Linda, outside Marysville in northern California. "God laid it upon my heart to make this issue my highest priority."

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August 2004, Vol. 48, No. 8