DATE: Wednesday, November 19, 1997          TAG: 9711190528

SECTION: FRONT                   PAGE: A1   EDITION: FINAL 

SOURCE: BY JUNE ARNEY, STAFF WRITER 

                                            LENGTH:  318 lines

BINGO CONS: HOW THEY CHEAT YOU

Workers say many operators

in Hampton Roads illegally pay ``volunteers'' and run scams.

A man who worked bingo across Hampton Roads for a dozen years says he and others illegally earned thousands of dollars a year at games designed to raise money for charities.

The man, who is from Portsmouth and spoke only on the condition that he not be named, estimated that he earned between $25,000 and $30,000 in some of those years. He offered a glimpse of the dark underbelly of bingo - smoky rooms where workers sometimes give winning tickets to favorite players and trade bingo supplies for a cut of the winnings. In these rooms, players trade rent and grocery money - even sell their food stamps - for more money to continue playing, he said.

Players desperate for a winning edge in a game have offered the bingo worker money, gifts and sexual favors. The worker said he has been followed home and threatened by players angry that they had spent their rent money or made a mistake and lost out on a $1,000 prize. In this world, he said, cheating is part of the game.

The bingo worker - who is young and says he was popular with players - said he knows a variety of methods

to cheat bingo players and even helped carry out some of them. He described several ways to cheat:

In instant games:

Sell instant tickets without reporting to state regulators.

Open winning instant bingo cards in advance so they can later be handed to pre-selected players who would share their winnings with workers.

Hold cards up to the light and read through the thin cardboard to pick out the winners. Those winners can be handed out to specific people.

Find winning cards, often located in a particular section of the box, and sell those to friends or house players.

In regular games:

Give free bingo supplies, which typically cost players $20 to $30 a night, to friends and relatives in exchange for a share of any winnings.

Hiding money to pay workers:

Issue checks to bingo workers through a dummy cleaning company, then bill the charitable organization for ``cleaning expenses.''

Dispose of winning tickets on instant bingo so that there will be no winner. The money collected for that game then can be used to pay workers.

The Portsmouth man said he is coming forward now to talk about cheating because he has seen parents spending money on bingo instead of buying their children basic necessities.

``Many times we bingo workers would collect money because we knew the kids weren't going to have a Christmas or Thanksgiving, and Mom would be back the next day playing bingo,'' he said.

Edward J. Fuhr, chairman of the Virginia Charitable Gaming Commission, said Tuesday that although most games are run legally, he suspects that payment of workers and cheating are more prevalent than people realize.

``I think there are a disturbing number of games in Virginia that have a criminal element preying on them,'' he said. ``We have a fairly sizable number of games in Virginia that are taking in up to millions of dollars and are not giving a penny back to charity. That's just ridiculous.''

The first hint of widespread illegal practices in bingo in Hampton Roads came in September during the trial of George West, former bingo manager at the Deep Creek Baseball Association in Chesapeake.

``All your commercial halls are getting paid,'' West testified before he was convicted of running an illegal gambling operation and winning by cheating as part of a scheme to divert hundreds of thousands of dollars from the baseball organization.

He also was acquitted on seven counts of embezzlement and one count of conspiracy to commit embezzlement. West is scheduled to be sentenced Thursday.

West testified that he made purchases of instant tickets off the books with cash and then used that money to pay workers. Except for those payments, all the money from the tickets was turned over to Deep Creek, he testified.

He denied that he ever gave bingo player Rogelio Legarda, who briefly worked as the league's accountant, any winning numbers in advance. Legarda, 57, has since pleaded guilty to a misdemeanor charge of cheating at gambling for receiving advance knowledge of winning instant bingo tickets. A judge ordered Legarda to pay a $10,000 fine and banned him from playing bingo for three years.

At West's trial, seven people testified that they were paid to work bingo at Deep Creek Baseball bingo, a practice forbidden by state law. West testified that he used money from the sale of instant game tickets to cover salaries for the workers, which cost about $54,000 between February 1996 and February 1997.

The West trial did not put a chill on the Portsmouth man's offers: He said he was contacted not long after the trial with an offer of a bingo job paying $100 a session. He turned it down.

However, he said, the trial spurred him to come forward because West was punished for activity that has been widespread.

``The finger is being pointed in one direction when I think it should be pointed in several,'' he said. ``I'd like to see bingo workers (legally) paid, or no one paid and all the money go to charity.''

The extent of illegal payments is unclear. Plenty of games are clean, as Fuhr of the gaming commission pointed out. But where payments have occurred, the practice has gone on unchecked for years, according to testimony at West's trial and interviews with bingo workers.

Charitable gambling, including bingo, instant bingo tickets and raffles, is big business in Hampton Roads, generating annual sales of about $215 million statewide, according to officials at the Virginia Charitable Gaming Commission.

In South Hampton Roads, charitable gambling organizations collected about $50 million in gross revenues for the 1996 fiscal year. After paying expenses and prizes, the groups - including Elk lodges, PTAs, church groups, bands and other nonprofits - spent about $3.7 million of that money for charitable purposes.

In recent weeks, The Virginian-Pilot has interviewed five people who are familiar with the operation of bingo. All echo West's charge about the practice of paying workers. They say payment has been widespread in some sessions of bingo in Portsmouth, Chesapeake and Virginia Beach.

Gaming commission officials, who uncovered abuses at Deep Creek Baseball, are investigating several organizations statewide for paying volunteers to work at bingo games. Fewer than five are targeted but commission members declined to provide details.

It is illegal for charitable organizations to pay workers, a practice that diverts money from charitable works. Ever since charity bingo was legalized statewide in 1973, no part of the games' gross receipts could directly or indirectly benefit any member or employee of the charitable organization.

Gaming commission regulations cover everything from the amount of prizes given out, to the permits required for the games. Specific violations of charitable gaming law are misdemeanors. Illegal activity in charitable gaming can result in felony charges, including embezzlement, conspiracy to embezzle, and conducting an illegal gambling operation.

Bingo workers are reluctant to be identified. Accepting pay is a misdemeanor, punishable by a fine or jail time or both. They also could face civil lawsuits and punitive action from the Internal Revenue Service for failing to report the income.

Yet some came forward with their stories because they feel the widespread practice is a serious problem.

Amy Ferrell, 26, of Suffolk, worked two games each week for Deep Creek Baseball for about a year. She received about $50 a session. Ferrell, who testified at West's trial that she personally handed money to several workers, said area games couldn't run without paid workers.

``They're all getting paid,'' she said. ``Who has 10 hours free in their week to separate from their family for just volunteer work, especially if their kids are not involved in it? We can't get people to volunteer to clean up our streets or to fight crime in the neighborhoods. Why would they volunteer to help a baseball organization?''

Such payment is common knowledge in bingo circles, Ferrell said.

``All the big ones are paying their workers,'' she said. ``Every bingo worker knows who gets paid.''

But many caution against painting all bingo games with the same broad brush. Not all workers are paid.

``There are plenty of organizations that do rely strictly on volunteers who don't get any compensation,'' said Tony Calogrides of Norfolk, who has played bingo for about a dozen years but never worked the games. ``It's a terrific way to make money for the charities. Bingo is a wonderful game.''

The Portsmouth man, who knew the schemes to cheat at bingo, said he warned people to steer clear of particular games.

``I told my friends and family not to play, because I knew they weren't going to win,'' he said.

Although bingo is regulated by the gaming commission, game organizers have simple strategies to escape their watchful eye, the worker said. Once he learned the tricks of the trade, he taught others how to foil regulators, he said.

In the dozen years he has worked at bingo in Hampton Roads, the Portsmouth man has held a variety of jobs in the bingo games.

Usually his payment came in cash.

But for several months, payments came in the form of checks drawn on a phony cleaning company. The charitable organization was then billed $500 a month for the bogus cleaning service, he said. The money was used to pay workers.

Early in the worker's bingo career, his only compensation was a turkey at Thanksgiving or a $25 gift certificate at Christmas. But as soon as he knew the ropes, a job offer for pay came through. He took a job working the floor, selling special games for $30 or $35 a session.

At one point during the early 1990s, the bingo worker's main income came from working sessions six days a week, with only an odd job to supplement that income. The bingo jobs netted between $25,000 and $30,000 in some of those years, the worker estimated, income not reported on tax returns. His legitimate job earned about $500 to $700 a month - not enough to live on, he said.

Those salary estimates don't count the tips from bingo winners or cash from friends and family members who shared their winnings. In some cases they were given their bingo packs - the supplies needed for the game - for free.

It was expected that each worker could bring a player as a guest who would play on the worker's behalf, the worker said. In some cases as many as five people played and shared their winnings with the worker in any given session.

He taught game workers how to distort attendance at their games, by underreporting sales of bingo supplies to each player at the door. That practice could be used to mislead regulators about how much to expect in revenue, and the hidden revenue could be used to pay workers.

The worker took time off between bingo jobs because the work was tedious, but he was lured back by the prospect of quick money.

``Everybody knows the kind of money that can be made,'' the worker said. ``The greed from the money they make makes everyone do stupid things.''

He has watched the destructive influence of bingo. He saw players - desperate to feed their bingo habit - willing to sell their bodies behind the hall or their food stamps out front, or to cash in their welfare or Social Security checks, or to beg for money.

``I've seen little old ladies come in and spend their entire Social Security check in one night on bingo,'' the worker said. ``You knew they couldn't afford it.''

The worker was troubled by taking money from people, recalling a woman who lost $30,000 in instant tickets over about eight months at two area bingo halls.

Occasionally the workers would let the woman win a game, knowing that she'd turn around and give the money right back by playing and losing.

``If I were to confront her right now, I'd feel bad because she knows the truth,'' the worker said. ``It always irritated me to be cheating the people.''

As far as his culpability, the bingo worker knows his behavior is hard to justify.

``It eats away at you,'' the worker said. ``But the money's too good to stop.''

Working bingo is no easy job, said Ferrell, who worked games for Deep Creek youth baseball. It's not the kind of work people would repeatedly volunteer to do.

``You see these people selling, sweating, putting up with superstitious customers,'' she said. ``I don't know too many people who would do that for free. . . . You add up all the people, all the halls - that's hundreds of workers, that's thousands of hours for supposedly volunteer work. It doesn't add up. You can't get it for free.''

Ferrell made it clear that she does know some bingo sessions at large halls that do not pay workers.

Like some other bingo workers, Ferrell favors payment of workers. A typical five-hour shift requires a lot of walking and responsibility, and being held accountable for large sums of money, she said.

``I don't think we were morally wrong for being paid,'' she said. ``I don't feel we should have worked unpaid, only because it was hard work and it benefited the children.''

Without paid workers, the bingo games would have fallen apart, Ferrell predicted.

``There would have been nothing in their account because they wouldn't have had the volunteers,'' she said. ``They'd have to go back to selling doughnuts and cookies, and I don't think they could sell enough of them to make $100,000.''

Calogrides, the longtime bingo player who has never worked bingo, said that he'd like to see legalization of payment of workers. He thinks the current system encourages game operators to make illegal payments to get reliable workers.

``I'd rather see some minimum compensation to ensure you have good folks working and a good caller,'' he said. ``I don't want them making big bucks. I would like to see most of the money go to the prizes and the charities.''

Ferrell and others recently learned that one group that paid its workers will soon discontinue that practice and use only volunteers.

In some cases, pay has declined from $50 to $30 for a five-hour shift, she and others have been told, because of recent scrutiny surrounding the Deep Creek case.

George West and others say there are several ways to conceal the payment of workers when authorities start watching closely. One involves increasing rental fees and using the revenue to pay workers.

In fall 1996, West said, rental fees at one hall increased from $1,300 to $1,700 per session. West and others suspect that the money was used to pay some workers.

If those games had pulled out, the hall owner would have lost $3,400 in rental fees a week, West said.

Christine Stephens, who worked at Deep Creek Baseball Association from October 1995 to November 1996, said she was paid $50 a session for the five-hour shifts she worked on Mondays and Thursdays. She said she has friends working at other bingo games who are being paid.

Stephens, who lives in Chesapeake, said she was willing to testify at George West's trial because she didn't want West to take the fall for money he paid her - especially since West was a successful fund-raiser for the baseball group.

Stephens ticked off the names of games at several busy bingo halls, where payment of workers has been standard practice.

``I know for a fact that every single worker at all these bingo halls is getting paid,'' she said. ``Every single one who says they aren't is lying.'' ILLUSTRATION: Color Photo

George West was convicted in September of running an illegal

gambling operation.

Graphic

Some of the scams

In instant games:

Sell instant tickets without reporting to state regulators.

Open winning instant bingo cards in advance so they can be handed

to pre-selected players.

Hold cards up to the light to pick out the winners.

Find winning cards, often located in a particular section of the

box, to sell to friends or house players.

In regular games:

Give free bingo supplies, which typically cost players $20 to $30

a night, to friends and relatives.

Hiding money to pay workers:

Issue checks to bingo workers through a dummy cleaning company,

then bill the charitable organization for ``cleaning expenses.''

Dispose of winning tickets on instant bingo so that there will be

no winner. The money for that game can be used to pay workers.

Graphic

BINGO JOBS

A session of bingo for hundreds of players requires work from

many people. The typical jobs:

Callers are responsible for calling out the letter-number

combinations that pop up on balls so that players can mark their

game cards.

Workers handle the special game sales, walk the floors hawking

them during regular games, collect money, and verify cards when

players say, ``Bingo.''

Paymasters are responsible for distributing winnings to the bingo

game winners.

At a separate table, another group of workers sells instant

tickets before and after regular games, collects money, and pays

winners.

Graphic

PLAYING BINGO

Bingo - The traditional game of chance in which combinations of

letters and numbers are called out and recorded by players on a

card.

Quickie blowout - A game in which the caller reads the numbers

in quick succession.

Decision bingo - Participants pay 50 cents per game plus a

quarter for every three numbers called until someone gets bingo.

Instant bingo or ``pull-tabs'' - A game similar to the

lottery's popular scratch 'n' win games. They typically are sold for

$1 apiece, and each box of tickets contains a pre-determined number

of winners.

The prizes: The maximum prize for a regular bingo game is $100.

Organizers are allowed to offer one game per day with a $1,000

jackpot, and can also have one winner-take-all game that can reach

$1,000. The maximum prize for instant bingo is $500.

Source: For prize information, Virginia Charitable Gaming

Commission KEYWORDS: BINGO FRAUD

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