Thunder Valley deals mostly winning hand

By Steve Wiegand -- Bee Staff Writer

Published 2:15 am PDT

The impact of the Thunder Valley Casino is evident every time Jessica Tavares opens her mouth.

"Many of us have braces now," said Tavares, the 54-year-old chairwoman of the United Auburn Indian Community, which owns the casino. "Many of us are getting teeth now who didn't have any teeth. We can afford it now."

Of course, the bicuspid realignment and molar replacement of tribal members aren't the only ways the glitzy Placer County casino is making itself felt.

After 32 years as a machinist, two months at dealers school and a year working at the casino, Thomas Dean has a sense of accomplishment - the kind of feeling that's fueled by landing a job, a promotion and a new career in the same year. After visiting the casino four or five times a week for months, Mark has a vague sense of having been seduced - the kind of feeling induced by losing more than $10,000 playing blackjack and three-card poker.

And after 12 months with what many thought would be the equivalent of an 800-pound gorilla in their midst, local officials are beginning to relax.

"A casino is a strange neighbor," said Spencer Short, the mayor of nearby Lincoln. "We're still measuring its effects ... but we're learning to get used to it."

When the casino celebrates its one-year anniversary June 9, it will be marking what is almost certainly the most financially successful first year of any Indian casino in the country.

Precisely how successful isn't known, since the tribe isn't required to make its financial records public. But based on numbers that are known, and on casino industry norms, the first-year results have been somewhere between very impressive and staggering:

• An average daily attendance of 8,000 to 10,000 people, or from 3 million to 3.7 million visitors for the year. That's twice as many as the total annual attendance at Sacramento Kings and Sacramento River Cats games combined.
• A total amount gambled, including money that is won and then re-bet, of well over $5 billion - or a dozen times larger than the operating budget for Sacramento County.
• Total net profits to the 240-member tribe and Station Casinos, the Las Vegas-based company that operates the casino for the tribe, of more than $300 million.

That, according to some industry analysts, would make Thunder Valley the fourth most profitable casino in the country, trailing only two Indian casinos in Connecticut and the Bellagio in Las Vegas.

"Clearly, this is a very high-quality gaming facility," said Marc Falcone, who monitors the gambling industry for Deutsche Bank Securities in New York. "The profits they have been able to generate have been very impressive."

As are the effects on the tribe. For most of the tribe's 87 years, the descendants of 25 Nisenan Maidu and Sierra Miwok scratched out an existence on top of a parched hill a mile or two south of Auburn. The casino, tribal representatives say, gives them the resources for a fresh start.

"Under Indian Health Service, you could only schedule one dental appointment a month, and if you missed it, you had to wait another month," said Tavares. "I remember having a (tooth) infection once in the old days and having to wait for a month to have it looked at. I thought I was going to go crazy, it hurt so bad. Now, we have a choice of dentists, we get right in ... it's wonderful."

Effects beyond Tavares' smile are also easy to discern.

The tribe already has repaid $46.9 million that Station fronted it before the casino opened, and rapidly is paying off $215 million in construction loans. It has established free medical, dental and vision care plans for all members, as well as an education center that provides testing, tutoring and tuition at any education level for the tribe's children.

Grants of up to $40,000 are being provided so members can make down payments on homes. Plans for a tribal community center at the site of the old rancheria are under way, as well as for homes on 1,100 acres of woodlands the tribe has purchased near the Camp Far West Reservior. The first $255,000 of $1 million in annual donations to Placer County nonprofit groups was distributed two weeks ago.

And individual monthly stipends, described by one source as "between healthy and hefty," are allowing tribal members a taste of the good life, through new cars, vacations, jewelry - or a mouthful of new teeth.

Chance at second career

For one nontribal member, the good life means being at Thunder Valley from 2 a.m. to 10 a.m. five days a week.

Thomas Dean, 54, is a floor supervisor, monitoring anywhere from one to five table games to make sure the dealers are dealing correctly and the players aren't cheating.

Two years ago, the Sacramento resident was laid off his job as a journeyman machinist, tooling machines used to draw blood at donation centers. A year ago, after attending a dealers school sponsored by the casino, he was nervously awaiting Thunder Valley's opening, and his casino debut.

"On opening weekend, I was dealing pai-gow, and there was a gentleman who sat down and cashed in for $10,000," Dean recalled. "He was betting $2,000 a hand.

"Five hands later, he was out of money. My knees were shaking. ... I got up for my break, and behind me were all the bosses, and I said, 'I want a raise.' "

He eventually got it. In March, Dean was promoted from dealer to floor supervisor, giving up his daytime schedule for the graveyard shift. It's a shift he says he doesn't mind.

"Some of the people I see now are the same people I saw in the daytime anyway," he jokes.

The job has been all that he hoped it would be, and more. Along with an annual salary of just under $50,000, Dean has a medical and dental plan, a 401(k) plan, access to tuition assistance and even a card that lets him buy gasoline at the commercial fueling station the casino's vehicles use.

"I still get a rush when I come to work," he said. "You don't get bored. ... I plan on being here until I retire."

To dark side and back

Mark has never been bored at Thunder Valley either. Elated, angry, chagrined, depressed, deflated and despondent maybe, but never bored.

Mark, a Roseville resident in his 30s who asked that his real name not be used, said that before Thunder Valley opened, he would gamble once or twice a year on trips to Reno or Lake Tahoe.

He first went to Thunder Valley in August, after listening to patrons in the coffee joint he frequented bragging about how much they had won.

"I worked five minutes from the casino," he said, "so I could turn left and go home or turn right and go to the casino. One day after work, I turned right."

In the midst of a separation that turned into a divorce, Mark said Thunder Valley workers made him feel at home. He gambled enough to get a "players card" that uses the casino's computer system to track how much a customer is gambling.

He also was assigned a "hostess" to call when he was on his way to the casino, who would provide him with "comps" such as free meals at the casino's restaurants.

Eventually, Mark said, he was dropping by three to five times a week - and losing most of the time.

"I'd think, 'I'll go out there and win $400 or $500 to have some money for fun,' " he said. "Then, I'd lose that much, and all of a sudden, man, I can't pay my rent, I can't make my car payment ... it's like playing with fire."

Mark estimates he lost "somewhere more than $10,000," mostly playing three-card poker, and was evicted from his apartment. He says he feels slightly betrayed by the casino's staff, who went all out to make him feel welcome and important, as long as he was gambling enough.

Nowadays, Mark says, he has his problem mostly under control, although he still goes to Thunder Valley about once a month.

The last time he was there, he said, he lost $400. But when he asked for a comp to the buffet, the pit boss told him the computer showed he hadn't been playing enough to warrant one.

"I think that was probably a good thing," he said with a laugh. "It means I've really cut down."

Economic ripples

While examples abound of Thunder Valley's impact on individuals, measuring its macro-effects is not as simple. Local officials say they know of no formal economic assessment on the surrounding region, and casino impact studies are often nebulous and contradictory.

Still, there are a few numbers that indicate Thunder Valley has caused a ripple or two.

The tribe has spent or will spend more than $30 million on roads and other infrastructure improvements in the area near the casino, which is an unincorporated area near the confluence of Lincoln, Roseville and Rocklin.

According to Thunder Valley General Manager Scott Garawitz, about half the casino's customers come from more than 25 miles away, many from the Bay Area. That means they are spending money in the region that would not ordinarily be here.

The casino employs about 2,000 people, with an annual payroll of about $44 million.

And, Garawitz said, it bought $82 million worth of local goods in its first year.

"That's everything from food to light bulbs to toilet paper," he said. "That's a pretty good chunk of money to plow into the local economy."

Despite its success, or because of it, there are already plans under way to expand the year-old casino.

The tribe is seeking a new compact with the state that would allow it to increase the number of slot machines beyond 1,906.

"The facility as it currently sits can accommodate another 50 percent increase in the number of slot machines on the floor," Station Executive Vice President Glenn Christenson said during a conference call in April, "if there was a successful negotiation with the governor."

Sources say the tribe and Placer County staff also are quietly exploring zoning changes that would smooth the way for construction of a hotel and business conference center on the 49-acre casino site.

"The popularity of this property says that people want more," Garawitz said. "And wanting to make your business bigger is usually a good problem."