Changing Skyline: ‘Politics’ can solve casino-siting problem

In the brief, muddled history of gambling in Pennsylvania, legalities have never been an obstacle. So when you hear Gov. Rendell say, with a rueful shake of the head, that the two planned Delaware River casinos can be "legally re-sited" only if their operators make the move voluntarily, don't be dismayed.

Politics got us into our current mess, when the state legislature voted before the dawn's early light of July 4, 2004, to welcome the casino industry to Pennsylvania. It will take politics, of the hardball variety, to get us out.

That, and some preemptive planning by Mayor Nutter.

You may have missed Rendell's grudging announcement last week that he would meet with the Foxwoods and SugarHouse operators. It came when people were already busy firing up their grills for another Fourth of July. But it was a historic moment in its own right: the governor's first concession to the anti-casino forces since gambling was legalized.

Rendell was forced into those talks by Philadelphia's State Sen. Vincent Fumo, chief author of the 2004 casino law, and Rep. Dwight Evans, an enthusiastic supporter, after they held a pre-Fourth Harrisburg news conference to declare that the riverfront sites are "no longer viable." They didn't need to append the word "politically." It was understood.

The meeting with the casino operators is expected to take place later this month. Rendell will be accompanied by Fumo, Evans and Mayor Nutter. Because the three men speak for the city, it won't be enough for them to restate well-known objections to the two waterfront locations. They have to provide Foxwoods and SugarHouse with an exit strategy.

The mayor has his work cut out for him. He needs to identify specific sites that would be acceptable to both the public and the casino operators. He should come armed with details about the size, ownership, availability, and cost of those alternatives.

It's the kind of activist planning Philadelphians deserved after slots gambling was legalized. Instead, the Street administration sat back and let the casinos and the state carve up the beautiful Delaware riverfront, without any regard for the public interest.

The city's political delegation will have more arm-twisting power than Rendell lets on: Fumo and Evans could threaten, as they've already suggested, to get the legislature to revoke the casinos' 10-year tax abatement. The legislature could refuse to grant the casinos riparian permits to build on riverfront land. Or the governor could simply remind the operators that they are on the verge of failing to meet a key condition of their operating licenses, which requires temporary slots parlors to be up and running by May 2009.

But providing the carrot of an alternative site may prove the most persuasive.

One obvious alternative to the waterfront, discussed in this column in January, is Philadelphia International Airport. The city could offer Foxwoods and SugarHouse a nice deal on land at the municipally owned facility. Or, it could point out that there's no shortage of private lots nearby currently devoted to the parking of cars.

The beauty of an airport location is that it offers everything a casino needs: fully tested highway access, plentiful parking, convenient hotels, and good public transit. And did we mention this: no neighbors?

Bob Pickus, a vice president with Trump Hotels & Casinos, believes the airport location would be just as lucrative for Foxwoods and SugarHouse. They wouldn't lose a dime in operating revenue. Since they've already spent $5 million to $10 million on designing the waterfront casinos, the state could offer to make them whole by crediting the expense against future tax obligations.

Some city officials were initially worried that a casino might get in the way of the airport's future expansion. But Terry Gillen, a Nutter policy adviser and head of the Redevelopment Authority, says the city has already found "lots of sites that wouldn't compromise the airport's growth."

The only real obstacle is a provision in the 2004 gambling law that requires Philadelphia's casinos to be located 10 miles from their nearest competition - the Harrah's Chester and Philadelphia Park racinos. Harrah's is only six miles south of the airport. But two local legislators, Reps. Michael O'Brien and William Keller, have already anticipated the problem. They've introduced a bill to amend the gaming law and eliminate the 10-mile rule.

While we're dreaming up alternatives, it's worth pondering the possibilities at the former Budd site, where Trump had proposed a casino before being rejected for a license. Vehement protests from nearby East Falls residents notwithstanding, that sprawling industrial park, once accessed daily by 10,000 workers, is geographically isolated from the surrounding neighborhoods and easily accessible from Roosevelt Expressway. Like the airport area - and unlike the waterfront - the Budd site is no beauty spot, so it won't be ruined by a big slots barn and even-bigger parking garage.

That we're still scrambling to identify acceptable casino locations today, almost two years after the state issued licenses, shows just what a bad hand Philadelphia was dealt in the 2004 law.

It wasn't just wrong to cut city government out of the planning and zoning process, it was wrong to make gambling in Pennsylvania a one-size-fits-all product. Why must all the casinos be humongous barns, with 5,000 slot machines, no matter whether they sit on 600 acres in Dauphin County or 16 acres in South Philadelphia? No single casino in Las Vegas or Atlantic City houses that number of one-arm bandits.

A case can still be made that there should have been a special license for Philadelphia, which, after all, is the largest city in the state, and would be the largest city in America with casinos.

A special license could have specified a smaller, more upscale casino that might be located near the Convention Center. You could never cram a 5,000-machine slots hall and garage onto East Market Street. But you might locate a boutique casino there, with table games and a few hundred slots, in a hotel-and-spa complex.

Such changes would require an amendment to the 2004 law. But that's where things are heading. It's all a matter of politics now.