An examination of the pros and cons of Indian gaming in the North Bay.
There’s possibly no hotter development debate in California these days than the struggle over Indian gaming. All across the state, local governments are feeling pressure from both Native American tribes seeking to provide members with economic, social and educational opportunities, and long-standing non-native communities that don’t want gambling facilities located nearby.
And it’s not a simple NIMBY argument. City councils and citizens point to statistics of increased crime, overstressed city services and congested streets as reasons to limit new casino development. Native tribes, on the other hand, claim they’ll support the state government and their surrounding communities with direct payments based on profits as well as charitable donations to various local organizations.
In the greater North Bay, a handful of casinos (and proposed casinos) have faced public outcry this year—to mixed results.
Stacking the deck
The controversy has been growing ever since the early 1980s, when a series of federal court judgments opened the doors for gaming on tribal land. In 1988, Congress passed the Indian Gaming Regulatory Act (IGRA), which divided Indian gaming into three categories, from traditional and ceremonial games through to full-fledged gambling. This last group, designated Class 3 games, requires a prior agreement between the tribe and the state (called a “compact”), approval by tribal ordinance, and must also be approved in advance by the National Indian Gaming Commission (NIGC).
Since passage of the IGRA, California has revisited the issue repeatedly. It’s been brought before the electorate—typically with voter support—multiple times. It’s been renegotiated by succeeding governors with, generally, concessions regarding numbers of slot machines leading to more money for the state. Today, the types of high-stakes games usually associated with casino-style gambling, as well as slot machines, are what it’s all about—and a lot of tribes are seeing the pluses of getting into the game. A quick count at the California Nations Indian Gaming Association website (www.cniga.com) shows 65 total members, 40 of which are compacted—33 of which have casinos.
A place to call home
As if the political maneuverings concerning tribal gaming weren’t confusing enough, there are also questions of tribal legitimacy that must be answered before the debate can even get that far. These sometimes hard-to-document questions of lineage and land rights often spark their own incendiary battles. The trouble lies in the unscientific and unclear record-keeping of agents for the Bureau of Indian Affairs (BIA) that date back to that agency’s (and our nation’s) founding in the 18th century. The problem is, so much of the native population has been so radically shifted away from its ancestral homes, it’s sometimes difficult to clearly identify who belongs where.
In the first half of the 20th century, Northern California Indians were consolidated in 36 locations designated either reservations, where they functioned as sovereign tribal governments under the authority of the BIA, or rancherias, which were small parcels of land meant to provide home sites, tax-free, for small bands of landless Indians. In 1958, the federal Rancheria Act let Indians vote to divide their lands among themselves as private property. As a result, between 1958 and 1970, 23 of the Northern California rancherias and reservations were terminated.
In the wake of private ownership, savvier generations of Native Americans have begun petitioning the federal government for restoration of tribal status and, with that, reinstatement of tribal land rights. In many cases, though, traditional lands have long ago been developed into thriving non-native communities or otherwise destroyed. To address this, recognized tribes can purchase non-native land and petition the federal government to designate the property a “trust” for the landless tribe.
Therein lies the crux of many casino debates. In addition to the projects discussed in this article, various other North Bay tribes have attempted to establish gaming facilities in recent years. Most of these seem stalled, often due to what’s called “reservation shopping,” a reference to recognized tribes attempting to establish casinos on trust lands—often in communities far afield from their aboriginal homes. Tribes in Cloverdale, Healdsburg, Hopland, Lower Lake and Lakeport have all made such overtures without much success.
River Rock doubles down
This was not the case for the Dry Creek Rancheria Band of Pomo Indians (DCRB), which has, since 1915, occupied 75 acres in Sonoma County’s Alexander Valley. Much of the tribe’s ancestral lands were flooded in 1983 with the creation of Warm Springs Dam and Lake Sonoma. In 2002, the tribe established River Rock Casino on its property in the hills above the small town of Geyserville. The facility was initially met with a public outcry, but the law is clear, and compacted tribes have the right to conduct gaming on their tribal land.
“It’s important to make a distinction between landless tribes and those with non-trust land,” says Dave Hyams, spokesman for the tribe. “The approval processes—and issues of cooperation and control when talking to the county and state—are entirely different. Because of this tribe’s status with the BIA as a sovereign nation since 1915, negotiations are handled as government-to-government conversations.”
This distinction is important, because it means DCRB can make autonomous decisions regarding its land—meaning the federal, state and county governments are largely out of the loop when it comes to the whats, wheres and whens of construction on tribal property. When River Rock first opened, this independence ruffled more than a few feathers.
Newspaper reports from the time chastise the tribe for misidentifying construction as housing and infrastructure improvements almost until the casino facility was complete. “Back then, the people representing the tribe and tribal leaders operated in the dark of night, which didn’t do them—or us—any good,” says Pete Dayton, chair of the Alexander Valley Association, a coalition of farmers, residents and local businesses whose goal, according to the group’s website, is “to preserve the natural beauty and farming character of Alexander Valley.”
The recent announcement that River Rock is planning a $300 million expansion to become a complete luxury resort has again riled up the neighbors, but, says Dayton, “The current administration seems more willing to sit down and negotiate.”
Among the recent topics of discussion are traffic and infrastructure concerns for the surrounding communities, questions about hours of operation and how to handle special events, and River Rock’s application for a liquor license. “I don’t doubt they’ll get a liquor license eventually,” says Dayton, “but right now, our resistance gives us a little wiggle room to encourage discussion.
“We want them to adhere to the same [special event] rules the county has imposed on wineries in the area,” he continues. “A standard ABC [alcoholic beverage control] license allows for serving from 6 a.m. to 2 a.m. I shudder to think what will happen on Highway 128 when people get all sauced up, so we’re working very hard to limit hours of service.”
Beyond admitting conversations have taken place, both Hyams and Dayton are fairly tight-lipped about how the talks are progressing.
What’s absolutely not on the table are the expansion plans themselves. Designed by international destination design firm Wimberly Allison Tong & Goo, the $300 million resort will resemble a Tuscan village, with courtyards, gardens, waterfalls and terraces. The hotel will feature 260 guest rooms as well as meeting rooms, a pool, a spa and multiple restaurants. Referring to the current, tent-like structure as “interim,” Hyams explains, “There was always the intent to build a permanent facility.”
The time seemed right to expand for a number of reasons, explains Hyams. First, DRCB was able to buy out Houston-based Nevada Gold & Casinos (its original partner in the casino) last year and is now the sole owner of the project going forward. “That successfully concluded original partnership, along with the outright success of the operation—meaning the tribe now knows how to run it themselves—has been a huge incentive,” he says. “Plus, it’s become successful enough that they can secure a bond against the existing facility to finance construction.”
About that success: according to an article in the Press Democrat last August, River Rock Casino reported $34.8 million in sales for the quarter ending June 30, 2007, an increase of $3.8 million over the same quarter last year. And some of that success is finding its way into the larger community. Since the casino opened, the tribe has steadily increased its donations to local schools, hospitals, law enforcement and other organizations, like Toys for Tots. “The casino has been a real Renaissance for the tribe,” says Hyams. “They have opportunities now that they never had in the past. The tribe feels it’s important to give back—to be doing things that benefit the tribe’s members, the greater area and their communities.
“There are certain legal requirements for all tribes with casinos,” he continues, “but there’s a lot more to it than that. It’s also about being good neighbors.”
And just as the tribe’s community contributions have increased alongside its prosperity, so has its ability to care for the land it’s occupied for almost a century. Recent environmental and infrastructure improvements on the reservation include native creekside restoration, a storm water pollution prevention plan and roadway enhancements. It’s also committed to LEED building practices for the new construction.
An environmental study of the new resort will be submitted to the tribe’s governing body for approval by the end of the year. And even though the reservation is a sovereign nation, meaning the study falls solely under the tribe’s jurisdiction, Hyams stresses it will follow a California Environmental Quality Act (CEQA)-type process. Drafts of the study were released in June, after which came a 45-day comment period and a public meeting. Information gathered through these processes was being incorporated into the final draft at press time.
“Nobody thinks it’s going away,” concedes Dayton, “and I want to give ‘kudos’ to the county and Supervisor Kelley, who’ve worked closely with us. They didn’t try to solve their problems without us.”
But while the River Rock expansion is, essentially, a done deal, there’s another DCRB controversy looming just over the horizon.
The Dry Creek tribe also owns more than 200 acres just south of Petaluma. The property is currently undeveloped, but last year DCRB filed for trust designation. The application is opposed by a number of community groups, as well as the Federated Indians of Graton Rancheria (more on them later), who claim southern Sonoma and Marin counties—basically, Santa Rosa down to the Golden Gate Bridge—as their aboriginal territory. “The trust application is a multi-year process,” says Hyams, “and there are no immediate plans to develop that land.
“That said, the compact the tribe negotiated with the state in 1999 allows for two casinos.”
Kenwood walks away
When popular Lake County destination Konocti Harbor Resort & Spa came up for sale, first in line was Kenwood Investments, a San Francisco-based development company headed by Darius Anderson, who was profiled in these pages this past May. Kenwood’s vision for the Lake County hotel and entertainment venue included slot machines and card tables—something the community rallied against.
“They were elusive about their plans in the beginning, but as negotiations continued, it became apparent that a casino was part of their vision,” says Lake County Supervisor Rob Brown, who spearheaded a board of supervisors resolution against Indian gaming on the site. “There was sweeping opposition [to the Konocti casino proposal] for a number of reasons,” he continues.
Lake County is already home to three Indian gaming facilities, and Brown stresses “the county has great working relationships with the casinos located here on tribal lands.” But the Konocti Harbor Resort & Spa isn’t located on tribal land, which meant that for his casino idea to succeed, Anderson first needed to find a tribe to partner with (though no specific tribes were named, rumor was he’d already made contact with a few candidates); then he had to win over the community. This gave Brown and the board an edge. “The governor’s position was that non-native [aka trust] land casinos would only be approved if the community demonstrated its support,” says Brown. “We showed overwhelming non-support, and that was that.”
Indeed, soon after the Lake County Board of Supervisors adopted its unanimous resolution against gaming at Konocti, Kenwood Investments dropped out of escrow on the property. Since that deal fell through, Palo Alto-based Page Mill Properties has come forward as a new buyer. As of press time, Brown hasn’t seen any specific proposals from the company, but says, “It’s my understanding it plans to continue Konocti as a performance venue and introduce additional uses to other parts of the property. I hope that’s true.”
A matter of trust
The most volatile of the recent local casino debates is surely the development proposed by the Federated Indians of Graton Rancheria (FIGR). The 760,000-square-foot facility would reportedly include 2,000 slot machines, 120 gaming tables, a 300-room hotel, a 1,500-seat performance venue, five restaurants, three cocktail lounges, conference facilities and 6,400 parking spaces (including a 2,000-car garage). The tribe first wanted to build on a tract of land off Highway 37 near Port Sonoma, but that idea was nixed due to environmental concerns. (FIGR later gifted the $4.5 million purchase option for that land to Sonoma Land Trust.)
The next location considered was a rural stretch at the corner of Stony Point Road and Wilfred Avenue near Rohnert Park. A portion of that site was protected as part of the Williamson Act; it also had some storm water drainage issues.
Now the tribe is hoping to set up shop just west of Highway 101, on a 90-acre lot that’s already zoned commercial and is located in the county’s community separator—“well outside the Rohnert Park city limits,” says FIGR Chairman Greg Sarris. Station Casinos, a Las Vegas-based casino development company that has partnered with the tribe for planning and construction, has purchased the land which, Sarris explains, will be transferred to tribal ownership if and when the federal government declares trust status. Once trust status is bestowed, FIGR will be free to negotiate a gaming compact with the state.
As it stands, a final draft of the site’s environmental impact report has been submitted to the NIGC. The draft will be reviewed and forwarded to cooperating agencies (that is, anyone who’ll be directly affected, including the Rohnert Park City Council). The public had opportunities for input twice—both before and after the first draft was written. The early debates were chronicled in a 2005 documentary, “The Rules of the Game,” and you may remember news coverage of the contentious open hearings last April. Comments and information from those hearings were integrated into the final draft. A decision is expected sometime next spring, but, “I’m hesitant to give any more specific timeline, since we’re dealing with governmental agencies,” says Sarris.
House odds
According to Sarris, FIGR has “a profound commitment to environmental restoration, health and education. Our tribe wants to work for the benefit of Indian and non-Indian communities alike. Part of our deal with Station Casinos was it would give us some money upfront so we could demonstrate our commitment to this community.
“I want to stress: We’re borrowing that money and will be paying it back with interest. The casino will be 100 percent under tribal control. Station Casinos will build the structure, but that’s it. We’ve even gotten them to agree to green building practices.”
The Las Vegas company will operate the casino for seven years, during which time it’s agreed to train Indian management and labor, in exchange for 24 percent of net profits during that time. After that, the entire project will belong to the tribe. Asked what benefit a development this size would offer Sonoma County, Sarris points to an estimated 2,500 union jobs and an overflow of tourist dollars that would impact all levels of the hospitality, tourism, entertainment, wine and retail industries both in Rohnert Park and across the county.
Another more tangible benefit is the lucrative, $200 million profit sharing agreement FIGR signed with the City of Rohnert Park (against the advice of some other gaming tribes). The tribe has also made repeated gestures of goodwill toward the community, including a $2 million pledge to establish an organic garden in every neighborhood in the city, more than $2.5 million in donations to local schools and colleges, and partnering with the Occidental Arts and Ecology Center to certify tribal members to participate in various local environmental restoration projects. More recently, there’s been talk of the tribe establishing a hospital to help alleviate the expected problems when Sutter closes its doors in the county, but Sarris downplays that notion: “That’s way ahead of where we are.”
Right now, Sarris is concentrating on the task at hand—and on explaining the tribe’s decision to take this path. “For two-and-a-half years after being recognized, we pursued other economic endeavors, including an organic food processing business and a cheese factory. The problem was, we had no collateral. When some tribal members starting using ‘the C-word,’ I experienced a real crisis. My mother—who wasn’t Indian—convinced me to stay,” Sarris explains.
“My first priority is to take care of tribal members in need. We’re a landless tribe; we’re owed a piece of land. But beyond that, I believe this casino will be the economic start-up engine that will let us reclaim our role as keepers of the land, fostering environmental restoration and sustainability. It’s another of the dreams we have. I believe all these things—organic gardens, educational grants—make for a healthier, kinder community for us all.”
“We’ve historically been the poorest race—and suffered a horrible genocide in our history—but we’ve given back more per capita than any corporate donor. I think we can show everyone a good example of how to do business with others.”
Sarris isn’t working alone. Many in the community support the FIGR’s plans, including some big Sonoma County fish. Local philanthropist Susan Moore is president of Friends of Federated Indians of Graton Rancheria (www.friendsoffigr.com), an organization of more than 1,000 members—including Hugh and Connie Codding, Lanahan & Reilley principal Dan Lanahan and Laguna de Santa Rosa Foundation Executive Director Dan Schurman—who, for a variety of reasons, support the proposed casino.
The cooler
But despite Sarris’ monetary olive branches, many residents and politicians remain opposed to the project. Some even seem to be laying the groundwork for a legal challenge to FIGR’s right to build a casino on the proposed site—even if trust status is granted.
Following an inconclusive meeting with members of Governor Schwarzenegger’s staff, North Bay Assemblyman Jared Huffman wrote a letter to the governor this past August that reads, in part: “Case law recognizes certain characteristics of Indian lands, none of which are present here. The Indians must have a historic retention of sovereignty during the state’s existence; they must have exercised their sovereignty continuously and not be disturbing settled expectations of residents, businesses and local government (City of Sherrill v. Oneida Indian Nation, 544 U.S. 197 (2005)); and the area must constitute a separate Indian community. None of those elements is present here.
“The Graton Rancheria was never treated as sovereign Indian land when it existed, but rather was governed by state laws. The land in Rohnert Park has never been considered Indian land and residents, businesses and local governments all have settled expectations that the land is state land. Further, the proposed site would be one business in the general community, not a separate Indian community. …For all these reasons, this site cannot and should not be treated as sovereign Indian land.”
“My point to the governor is that it’s wildly premature to be in compact negotiations with this tribe at this site,” Huffman says, who confirms, “it won’t come from me, but I do believe there’ll be a legal challenge.” Huffman has received no response from the governor’s office.
Similar letters from private citizens, State Senator Carole Migden and Petaluma Mayor Pamela Torliatt (on behalf of the entire city council) have found their way to the governor’s desk and into the pages of local newspapers. There’s a sense of urgency to the campaign, because Schwarzenegger is suspected of already beginning compact negotiations with FIGR—in contradiction to his own stated policy of refraining from compact negotiations with any tribe before its land trust status has been bestowed.
“The city council… respectfully submits that no compact negotiations should occur with the Graton Tribe until NIGC makes a determination whether or not the lands are Indian lands under the Graton’s jurisdiction and the issue is finally adjudicated. To do otherwise could prejudice the rights of opponents to this casino to raise their valid concerns, and would create an extraordinary and unfortunate precedent for our state,” writes Torliatt.
Opponents see the supposed meetings (the governor’s office hasn’t confirmed or denied them) as another case of tribal dishonesty. This sense of distrust can be traced back to 1992, when author and college professor Sarris began to organize what would become the FIGR. At the time, he was supported in his quest for tribal recognition by House Representative Lynn Woolsey, who testified on behalf of FIGR. Woolsey’s support, however, came after Sarris’ assurances that the tribe would not pursue gaming. Today, Woolsey stands opposed to the Rohnert Park casino project.
Place your bets
As the debate continues in Sacramento and Washington, D.C., closer to home, there’s an air of determined resignation. “Having a casino in the community was no one’s first choice, and I was very surprised when it first came up in a council meeting,” says Rohnert Park Mayor Vicki Vidak-Martinez. “But the fact is, [FIGR has] the right to build on land that’s taken into trust on their behalf. We’ve asked the state and federal governments directly: Would an advisory vote against this project have any impact? The answer was ‘No.’ We asked: What can we do to stop this project? The answer was ‘Nothing.’
“There are those in the community who oppose the casino on moral grounds and others who oppose the project due to negative impacts like increased traffic and crime. Most of these residents refuse to accept that a local government has virtually no influence over federal decisions regarding tribal sovereignty.
“In cases like this, it’s important to work on a factual basis—that’s how you protect people. At this point, I’m more concerned with working with [the FIGR] to create a good project. Just as we would with any large development coming into the city, we’re striving for the best outcome for the entire community.”
In the end, it seems we’re all striving for that…no matter which side of the debate you support.
