Bingo Parlor Operator Says New L.A. Rules Threaten Her Charity

The Bingo Queen of Woodland Hills fears her number is up.

Tough new requirements being imposed by the city of Los Angeles on large-scale charity bingo games may soon wipe out the charity that her 800-seat bingo parlor supports, Edith Ryan charged Friday.

And without the charity, she will have to close what has become in terms of attendance and revenue the most popular bingo game in Los Angeles.

Ryan operates a free physical and psychological therapy program for physically disabled young adults with proceeds from thrice-weekly bingo games she stages at a warehouse-sized building in Warner Center.

Since its start in 1982, Ryan’s game has become the richest in Los Angeles, where bingo has been a legal method of fund raising for licensed churches, schools and charities since 1977. The city’s 88 authorized games take in about $50 million a year.

But a new city law that limits the number of games that can be played each night and restricts the number of players threatens to eliminate the revenues needed to run her self-styled “Identity” rehabilitation program.

40 Games a Night

Only 40 games a night can be offered at bingo parlors under one part of the law that became effective late last year. And as of Aug. 1, only 350 players will be allowed to play in any one game.

Ryan, whose huge parlor is filled with folding tables and chairs, says she needs at least 60 nightly games and 600 players to support her charity. She has requested a waiver from the ordinance, which was approved by a 10-1 City Council vote last September.

According to Ryan, the city’s crackdown is aimed solely at her. She charges that the city has acted to hamstring her game because she has refused to pay bribes to officials.

“If I’d paid a bribe, they wouldn’t be trying to put me out of business,” she said. “This is going to kill us. We’re ostensibly dead right now.”

Ryan said she did not report the alleged bribery solicitations to authorities because she felt she lacked evidence to prove her assertion. She said she was too naive at the time to have tape-recorded the conversations, which she said occurred on more than one occasion.

Officials of the Bingo Division of the city’s Social Services Department who regulate the 88 licensed bingo parlors in Los Angeles denied Ryan’s accusations. They said Friday that the new rules are intended only to protect small games run by churches and schools that have been squeezed by larger games such as Ryan’s.

‘That’s Crazy’

“Bribes? That’s crazy. That’s outrageous,” said George Delianedis, the acting manager and chief investigator of the department. “We cannot and do not accept any gifts from any organizations.

“If what she says was the truth, we’d have been in court long ago,” he said.

City officials say Ryan’s game has grossed nearly $25 million since her callers first began shouting numbers at an abandoned Canoga Park department store that Ryan rented to launch her game.

After prizes and game costs were deducted, city records show that Ryan has paid about $3.5 million to her charity. Her game and therapy clinic moved to Warner Center in 1985 when the department store site was razed as part of the Fallbrook Mall remodeling.

But city officials say part of the money earmarked for the charity is being used by Ryan to pay $15,000 monthly rent at her De Soto Avenue site. Although most of the facility is used as the bingo parlor, several small rooms in front are used for therapy sessions that are conducted three days a week for about 20 disabled clients.

“What you see when you walk in is her charity,” Delianedis said. “She says she uses the bingo-callers’ platform for therapy.”

$500,000 a Year

Delianedis said the Identity charity nets about $500,000 a year, which would provide $25,000 per client if much of it was not spent on Ryan’s rent and other overhead.

He said state law prohibits Ryan from paying salaries to herself or her bingo game operators from bingo proceeds. Ryan said she draws a $750-a-week salary solely from the profits of her bingo parlor’s snack bar.

She said her bingo games need to generate at least $50,000 a month for the charity to pay the physical therapist and psychologist she employs. Ryan said she has fired the psychologist and given a layoff notice to the therapist.

Ryan predicted that the new rules would reduce the charity’s proceeds to about $25,000 a month--forcing her to offer only “social activities” such as TV-watching and pinball games to her handicapped clients after Aug. 1.

According to Ryan, her charity has reached beyond the young people who arrive in wheelchairs and on crutches for therapy sessions on Mondays, Wednesdays and Fridays.

She said she has pumped thousands of dollars into such things as artificial limbs for needy accident victims and wheelchair ramps at Pierce College. Dozens of disabled individuals have received free trips to camp and have been sent on expense-paid excursions, such as those organized for handicapped skiers, she said.

According to Ryan, city bingo regulators have never visited her bingo parlor/therapy center to see what she is accomplishing.

Bingo officials have kept close tabs on Ryan’s game, however.

In 1985, they sought a 30-day shutdown of the Identity game after a 10-month investigation allegedly uncovered 10 violations of state and city laws. A Superior Court judge blocked the license suspension, calling the action unwarranted.

Retroactive Suspension

Robert Burns, general manager of the Social Services Department, then imposed a retroactive 120-suspension of Identity’s bingo license. The suspension had no practical effect because it covered a period when the game had been voluntarily closed by Ryan so she could move from the Fallbrook Mall to Warner Center. But it was recorded as a black mark on her record.

Burns, who is on vacation, was unavailable for comment Friday.

But Delianedis said Ryan is the only bingo operator in town who has complained about the new law. He said officials will be forced to review Identity’s charity status if she eliminates services to the handicapped.

“If she cuts off all her services, we’ll have to re-evaluate her,” he said. “If her charity goes under, she goes under.”

In the Bingo Queen’s parlor, David Austin was hoping Friday that doesn’t happen.

“When I came here eight months ago, I was in a wheelchair,” said Austin, a 21-year-old Canoga Park resident who is recovering from serious head injuries caused by a motorcycle accident.

Therapist Angela Ciminiello and aide Michael Rood were assisting Austin as he slowly completed his third lap on foot around the huge bingo room--a distance of about three-quarters of a mile. Forming his words carefully, Austin slowly explained that his progress will suffer if the therapy program is slashed.

“Before I came here, the hospital said I would never walk again,” he said.