Just before 11 p.m. March 13, 1999, the Rev. Nathan Wilson walks out of

the Senate chamber.

It's the last night of the session, and he is going

home to his wife and baby after 14 hours of

lobbying at the West

Virginia Legislature.

Minutes before, the Senate had rejected a gambling bill that

Wilson fought against all session.

The bill would have allowed West

Virginia's racetracks to introduce new "coin slot" machines.

These are

what most people think of when you say slot machine - pull a lever or push

a button,

and the wheels spin around. When they stop, if you match up

the diamonds, cherries or 7s in the

right order, coins cascade from the

bottom.

The racetracks knew that if they got coin slots, their profits would

at the West Virginia Council of Churches feared

those profits would

come mostly from people who couldn't afford it. Wilson thought they had

won

- two times that night, the Senate rejected the coin slot bill.

Elated and relieved, Wilson walks down the marble stairs. But a

gambling lobbyist stops him in

the hallway. For reasons still

unclear to Wilson, the lobbyist tells him that the coin slot

bill is

far from dead. It could be attached as an amendment to other bills in the

last hour of

the session.

Wilson knows lobbyists and lawmakers use the chaos of the last night of

Just before 11 p.m. March 13, 1999, the Rev. Nathan Wilson walks out of

the Senate chamber.
It's the last night of the session, and he is going

home to his wife and baby after 14 hours of
lobbying at the West

Virginia Legislature.

Minutes before, the Senate had rejected a gambling bill that

Wilson fought against all session.
The bill would have allowed West

Virginia's racetracks to introduce new "coin slot" machines.
These are

what most people think of when you say slot machine - pull a lever or push

a button,
and the wheels spin around. When they stop, if you match up

the diamonds, cherries or 7s in the
right order, coins cascade from the

bottom.

The racetracks knew that if they got coin slots, their profits would

at the West Virginia Council of Churches feared
those profits would

come mostly from people who couldn't afford it. Wilson thought they had

won
- two times that night, the Senate rejected the coin slot bill.

Elated and relieved, Wilson walks down the marble stairs. But a

gambling lobbyist stops him in
the hallway. For reasons still

unclear to Wilson, the lobbyist tells him that the coin slot
bill is

far from dead. It could be attached as an amendment to other bills in the

last hour of
the session.

Wilson knows lobbyists and lawmakers use the chaos of the last night of

the session to slip
through special interest bills that otherwise would

He wonders if this lobbyist is giving him a tip. Maybe someone had

already added a coin slot
amendment to another bill. He sprints up the

Gambling gets what it wants

Wilson started lobbying for the Council of Churches in 1998 on several

issues, including
gambling. He's seen the growth of the

gambling industry in the state, and its increasing
influence

under the Capitol dome.

Wilson said the gambling industry has gotten almost everything

it has wanted from the
Legislature in the past two years: a referendum

on casino gambling at The Greenbrier, no
regulation of illegal

video poker machines, and bigger superbingo prizes.

The gambling industry has been increasing its investment in the

West Virginia Legislature over
the past decade. In 10 years, the number

of gambling lobbyists at the Legislature has
skyrocketed from

two to 35.

Gambling interests gave more than three times as much in

campaign contributions to state
legislators in 1998 than in 1996,

according to the People's Election Reform Coalition. A Sunday Story Incomplete