Virtually every year, we hear a variation on a jarring statistic about our state’s underfunded Department of Public Safety. In the overnight hours, we hear that Alabama’s state roadways are patrolled by only four, six or eight state troopers, depending on who’s doing the talking.
Early Friday, there were hundreds of state troopers on the road. But they weren’t patrolling; under the direction of Gov. Bob Riley and his Task Force on Illegal Gambling, the state officers were preparing to raid two lawful gaming businesses — Country Crossing in Houston County south of Dothan and Victoryland’s Quincy Triple Seven in Macon County — electronic bingo parlors operating under constitutional amendments legalizing the gaming in their respective counties.
Gov. Bob Riley’s tenacious and heavy-handed campaign against the electronic bingo operation at Country Crossing has raised many questions, and the dramatic twists in the tale simply raise more. One question asked repeatedly — Why target Country Crossing when the electronic bingo operation at Victoryland in Shorter is far larger? — may have been answered by action, not by word.
While Victoryland and its 6,400 electronic bingo machines were virtually ignored by the governor’s office, Country Crossing found its way into the crosshairs of the governor’s Task Force on Illegal Gambling after County Commission Chairman Mark Culver and Country Crossing developer Ronnie Gilley made confident statements about the legality of the machines in operation in Houston County. On Jan. 6, Country Crossing fended off an imminent raid by state troopers by securing a restraining order from a Dale County judge in the middle of the night.
The gambling operation in Macon County didn’t blip on the governor’s radar until Victoryland owner Milton McGregor told the Press-Register that he hired a private detective to follow former task force leader David Barber to a Philadelphia, Miss., Indian-run casino, where the lawman won $2,300. McGregor sent word to the governor to let him know what he discovered and suggested Riley make it public or McGregor would. Barber resigned days later.
In the wee hours Friday, state troopers descended on both Victoryland and Country Crossing in full force, with scores of vehicles and officers in a dramatic caravan. At Victoryland, they were met by Macon County officials with a restraining order.
At Country Crossing, however, they arrived without a search warrant, without a court order, without any legal authority whatsoever. The major in charge told Country Crossing attorney Will Matthews they had been told to assemble at the facility and await further instruction. After determining there was no legal authority to enter the premises, Matthews informed the major that the state troopers were trespassing.
The officers eventually left, congregating nearby at a truck stop and a rest area, occasionally driving past Country Crossing.
Meanwhile, new Task Force Chief John Tyson was in Montgomery trying to find some authority to validate the raid.
It’s too early to tell what Gov. Riley’s dramatic grandstanding cost the taxpayers of Alabama, but it certainly isn’t cheap. Consider that, if the understaffing claims are true, every officer over the usual half-dozen on duty was on overtime. There were scores of vehicles, including trucks, traveling to the raid sites, and all that time sitting around and waiting. That’s not counting lost revenue at the businesses, or wages lost by workers who were idled during this folly.
There must be a last word with regard to the legality of electronic bingo and the devices used to play. Until that happens, there will be no end to the drama fomented by the governor and his staff.
Some people applaud Riley’s efforts, citing Article V, Section 120 of the Alabama Constitution of 1901: “The governor shall take care that the laws be faithfully executed.”
Others believe he has no authority to act in such a capacity, particularly since Attorney General Troy King has repeatedly warned him that he’s coloring outside the lines.
That raises the consideration of another constitutional nugget. Article VII, Section 173, enumerates the process of impeachment of the members of the state’s constitutional officers. Whether abuse of power and gross waste of public resources are impeachable offenses isn’t clear.
One thing is: Bob Riley has frittered away hundreds of thousands of dollars of public funds in a battle of wills at a time when the state budgets are under severe cuts and workers are facing furloughs or layoffs. Considering that his concerns could be addressed in a civil, understated manner, he should be held accountable for the money he has wasted.
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