Pala Tribe Gamely Accepts Its Role in Gambling Battle

On spring days, when thick clouds cling to the mountains and wispy white flowers float down from the cottonwood trees like some ethereal snowfall, it’s easy to describe this Indian reservation as being in the eye of the storm.

For years, while other California Indian tribes have aggressively developed gambling casinos to the great consternation of Gov. Pete Wilson, the Pala Indians have lain low and tapped more conventional sources of tribal revenue.

But Pala may be getting the last laugh. As midnight’s deadline came and went for other California tribes to agree to pursue gambling under Wilson’s terms or face federal action to unplug illegal machines, the Pala Indians are quietly preparing to build their own casino, the first in the state with the governor’s and the federal government’s blessing.

Nearly 40 other California tribes already run casinos, with gambling machines that state and federal authorities say are illegal because they have some characteristics of Nevada-style slot machines, which are banned in the state.

Pala, on the other hand, has promised Wilson to only use video machines that mimic the technology used by the California Lottery--a central computer spitting out numbers, and gamblers winning money from a pool of wagers fed by fellow gamblers.

Most of the other tribes argue that the Wilson-Pala agreement is far too restrictive, and they have mounted a costly and time-consuming campaign of litigation and lobbying to fight it.

Much of the posturing by the two sides is now coming to a head, because by today the state’s gambling tribes were to have agreed either to abide by the terms of the Pala agreement or unplug their contested machines and negotiate their own terms with Wilson.

Only a few smaller, Northern California tribes with casinos have agreed to the Pala pact, while the tribes with the largest casinos have pledged to resist Wilson’s terms.

The showdown will move this week to various courts throughout California.

Tribal attorneys say they will seek temporary restraining orders today in U.S. District Court in San Francisco in three different lawsuits aimed at blocking federal agents from moving against the casinos.

And Thursday, each of the four U.S. attorneys in California plans to file his or her own civil lawsuits against the tribes, seeking to pave the way for enforcement. “We will seek the forfeiture of the illegal slot machines,” said Thom Mrozek, spokesman for Nora Manella, the U.S. attorney in Los Angeles.

It will probably be several weeks before the courts decide the issue, said U.S. Atty. Paul Seave in Sacramento.

On May 1, federal agents visited the Indian casinos throughout the state and took inventory of the contested machines, estimated to number more than 13,000. At several of the reservation casinos, FBI agents were asked to leave when their presence was noticed, and they did.

Pala, meanwhile, says it is more than happy to play by Wilson’s rules and use gambling machines--still under development--that will function essentially as high-speed Lotto devices cloaked in exciting lights and sounds. The tribe also agreed not to operate more than 975 machines, one of the conditions that infuriates other tribes.

Now, Pala is trying to line up a $42-million bank loan to build its gambling palace.

The casino is planned to be along California 76, six miles down a winding, two-lane highway that leads motorists from Interstate 15 to Palomar Mountain in northern San Diego County. The river valley of farms, dairies and thoroughbred horse ranches would be bucolic were it not for the incessant rattle of rock-crushing machines on the reservation and the steady groan of huge sand and gravel trucks hauling away their loads.

That is how the tribe now makes most of its money--leasing parts of its reservation to companies that mine the earth for the ingredients of concrete and asphalt.

Maybe in a year or so, the Indians say, the tribe can stop consuming its own land and cash in, instead, on gambling.

There are lots of things the Pala Indians would like to do to improve their lives, once the casino money starts rolling in. Repair the old sewer lines and water wells. Improve the cable television system. Build more houses, open a medical clinic, provide health insurance, offer college scholarships.

In the broad range of California’s tribes, Pala is neither dirt-poor nor wealthy. The tribe has 867 members, and most live on the somewhat rectangular-shaped reservation. Some of the residences are sturdy and handsome; others are dilapidated and probably would not pass building code inspections were the reservation subject to such bureaucracy. There is only one housing tract to speak of: a colony of 13 homes, built with tribal and federal funds and occupied by some of the neediest families.

Within the reservation’s central village is a boys and girls club, a seniors nutrition center, a cultural museum, a fire department and a day care center. The biggest landmark: a small Catholic mission church constructed in 1816.

The tribe has a 40% unemployment rate, partly because some adults are unable to find jobs nearby and don’t have the transportation to reach the nearest small cities, Escondido to the south, Temecula to the north.

The tribe now makes about $2 million a year, mostly by leasing land to sand and gravel firms and maintaining a 150-acre avocado grove. The casino should generate about three times that amount, estimates Robert Smith, who has served as tribal chairman since 1990.

When other tribes suggest that Pala has given away its Indian sovereignty by agreeing to Wilson’s restrictive terms, Smith bristles.

“My definition of sovereignty is that we are a government that can exercise relationships with other governments,” he said. “It’s no different than how we negotiated a contract with the Sheriff’s Department to patrol our reservation or with the California Department of Forestry for fire protection.”

Being sovereign, Smith said, does not give the Pala Indians the unilateral right to operate a casino, but simply the right to negotiate with Wilson to run one.

Indeed, several years ago, Pala partnered with Harrah’s, the Tennessee-based gambling company, to open a casino. But the pact dissolved when it became clear that Wilson would not allow Nevada-style gambling in California.

The level of participation in this year’s tribal vote to approve the Wilson casino agreement hardly reflected the consequences of the decision, which include hundreds of jobs and millions of dollars in revenue. With 515 voting members in the tribe, the casino question was approved 37 to 11.

A Connecticut-based Indian gambling management company, Excelsior Gaming, is working with Pala on the design and construction of the casino, which would be built on a small commercial campground operated by Pala, amid a grove of 75-year-old California oaks. The chairman of the company was vice president of gaming for the tribe whose Foxwood Casino in Connecticut is the world’s largest.

Among those who voted against the Pala casino was Mona Sespe, who said Pala should not have broken ranks with other Indian tribes.

“We are giving up our sovereignty,” she said. “I think we sold out.”

But others say the casino will provide a better future.

“I grew up here, playing on hillsides that are no longer here,” said Leroy Miranda. “I welcome a casino, if it means we no longer have to destroy our own land.”

Times staff writer Max Vanzi contributed to this story.