integrity” to New Jersey government—a tall order for anyone. Byrne’s opponent was Congressman Charles Sandman of Cape May. Charlie Sandman was a perennial candidate and wannabe governor most of his career. In June 1973, he upset incumbent Governor William Cahill in a bitter primary dividing the Republican Party. Sandman would later be Richard Nixon’s most loyal supporter during the Watergate hearings, and his uncompromising conservative message had limited appeal. He was no match for Byrne and the election was a landslide. As Brendan Byrne began his first year in office, legalizing gambling wasn’t one of his priorities. It wasn’t even on his agenda.
But gambling was a priority for the resort’s legislative team. 1974 was the year Atlantic City was to begin its comeback. State Senator Joe McGahn took his cue from the local media as well as business and civic leaders. They had one item on their legislative agenda. This was the year casino gambling was to become a reality. For the first time in Atlantic County’s history, its legislative delegation was entirely Democratic and there was a Democrat in the governor’s chair. As the year began, hopes were high. The
Joe McGahn had spent most of his life watching his hometown crumble. Now as senator, he had a chance to reverse the downward spiral. While having none of Farley’s gifts as a horse-trader, he could think on his feet and had the personal maturity needed to stay focused on a single issue. McGahn’s partner, in truth the leader in pursuing a constitutional referendum, was Democratic Assemblyman Steven Perskie. On his first election to the assembly in 1971, at age 26, Perskie was the youngest state legislator ever elected from Atlantic County, having been swept into office on McGahn’s coattails in his win over Farley. Upon arriving in Trenton, the young assemblyman needed no one’s coattails and learned his way around quickly. Nephew of Farley nemesis Marvin Perskie, Steve Perskie was a third generation attorney from a family of respected lawyers, the son and grandson of judges. Of medium height and build with shaggy black hair and thick horn-rimmed glasses, he was the picture of intensity. Perskie exuded confidence—almost cocksure—and had an innate ability for the legislative process. Brilliant, fast-talking but articulate, and with an engaging personality, he was a tireless advocate of casino gaming and the resort’s best spokesperson for the cause. More importantly, Steve Perskie had ingratiated himself with Brendan Byrne. He was one of Byrne’s earliest supporters in the Democratic primary and raised the gambling issue with Byrne early on. After the election he visited the governor’s office frequently, building important ties with Byrne’s staff. Between McGahn and Perskie, the resort had as effective a legislative team as it could hope for.
As the city launched its drive for a constitutional referendum, the watchword was “don’t oversell our case.” The prevailing mentality produced a caution and restraint in presenting the case for gambling, which could come only from overconfidence. Atlantic City and its leaders felt all they had to do was keep a low profile and things would just fall into place as they planned.
At that time, New Jersey was struggling with statewide tax reform. A State Supreme Court decision on the funding of local public schools had made an income tax inevitable. Some proponents of gambling spread the word that legalizing gambling might eliminate the need for an income tax. To preclude such talk, the
Another pitfall was the specter of Atlantic City becoming a “Las Vegas of the East” with a casino on every corner and slot machines in supermarkets, drugstores, and gas stations. Somehow, Atlantic City was supposed to be better than Vegas. The reputation of mob influence and the garishness of Las Vegas were something to be avoided in a statewide campaign. With an almost fairy tale quality, Atlantic City’s leaders hoped to present a more dignified image. They talked of gambling in terms of class and elegance comparable to the low-key operations in the Bahamas and Monte Carlo. According to its supporters, Atlantic City was above doing business like Las Vegas. There would be no glitz or glitter or slot machine grind joints. Upon gambling being legalized, it would be quiet and sophisticated—civilized games of chance for gentlemen and ladies only.
A final concern for gambling proponents was the fear that were it limited to Atlantic City alone, other communities in the state might resent it and sabotage the referendum. The resort was prepared to share the opportunity with other communities in the hopes no one else would be interested. In an attempt to neutralize potential opposition, McGahn and Perskie proposed a referendum that would permit gambling casinos throughout the state. Upon approval of the initial constitutional amendment, gambling could be permitted in any community where the voters of both the municipality, and the county in which it was located, approved a second referendum. To prevent mob infiltration, casinos would be owned and operated by state government; no matter that no one in state government was experienced in operating a casino. They would simply adopt regulations and everything would go smoothly. As for new private construction, there wouldn’t be much. Casinos would be located in existing hotels or state-owned properties. Additionally, advertising would be prohibited and only properly attired patrons would be permitted to gamble. By creating such a frame in which to view their proposal, Atlantic City’s leaders hoped the opposition would have little basis for an attack.
In the report of a study released by the staff of the Senate Conference Committee in May 1974, the Byrne administration’s view of how casino gambling should work was outlined for the legislature. It was envisioned that the first casino would be built on the Boardwalk at the state’s expense. Following the initial casino, two others would be located in space leased from existing hotels. The hours of operation would be from 8:00 P.M. to 4:00 A.M. The sale of alcoholic beverages would be prohibited as would credit for betting by casino patrons. Private investment of any kind would be prohibited. A rosy picture typical of government, it was assumed the casinos would be staffed and operated by state employees—just one more task for the bureaucracy. The potential of gambling everywhere didn’t have the initial support of Governor Byrne and as the constitutional amendment began making its way through the legislature, Byrne made his thoughts known. Prompted by his Attorney General William F. Hyland, Byrne questioned the language of the referendum.
The governor suggested that gambling should be limited to Atlantic City. He went so far as to threaten opposition to the referendum legislation if gambling was permitted anywhere other than Atlantic City. Some observers believe Byrne was looking for a face-saving way out and hoped that by limiting gambling to the resort, he would alienate other regions of the state, killing any chances of the referendum’s approval. The resort’s leaders were beside themselves, but Steve Perskie refused to quit. Relying upon his personal relationship with Brendan Byrne, Perskie launched a private campaign that resulted in the governor’s modifying his position. Byrne agreed to support the referendum as proposed, provided that for the first five years after its approval, casino gambling would be confined to Atlantic City alone. It was a major concession, which only Perskie could have obtained.
With Byrne’s support, McGahn and Perskie were successful in obtaining the legislature’s approval for a constitutional referendum. In all, it took less than five months to get the question put on the November ballot. While McGahn and Perskie made their moves in Trenton, the folks back home did nothing. When the year began, the pro- gaming forces knew they would have 10 months to organize their campaign for the November referendum. They also knew they could expect opposition.
The
