ARE ALL BETS OFF?

Ground Game May Beat the Odds

by Charles McGuigan 05.2021 

Cover design by Doug Dobey

Cover design by Doug Dobey

In the architectural rendering of the Cordish casino proposal for the Bow Tie property, there looms an illuminated monolith of steel and glass that appears to rise a full 20 stories, dwarfing every other building for miles around. To put that in proper perspective, our City Hall, by comparison, is 19 stories tall. This edifice would forever change the cityscape along Arthur Ashe Boulevard. And the historic building constructed in 1887 as a factory where locomotives were assembled, a structure which was meticulously renovated by Bow Tie a little over ten years ago to house its theatre complex, is conspicuously absent in the rendering supplied by Cordish; yet another piece of Richmond history to be erased. At the eastern end of the property where there stands a seven-acre grove of trees, one of the last green spaces in that area of the city, not a stump appears to remain.

The sheer magnitude of this proposed casino is staggering, and the amount of traffic it would generate on three peak days each week would turn Arthur Ashe Boulevard into a crawl space.

You may remember the name Pierce Homer. He served as the Virginia Secretary of Transportation for Governors Tim Kaine and Mark Warner. Before that, he was the deputy county executive for Prince William County where he oversaw land use, transportation and economic development.

You may also recall that he chaired the Navy Hill Commission, which ultimately helped defeat the Navy Hill Project. “That was a very, very tough assignment,” says Pierce. “I think a lot of the members of the commission were disappointed that there wasn’t more forthright information coming from the city or the developer of the project.”

Now, Pierce is lending his support to oppose the Bow Tie casino proposition. 

“I’ve tried to stay focused on just the transportation element of this which is quite significant for all of Northside, not just the immediate neighborhood around it,” he says.

But Pierce also invites me to grasp just how massive the Cordish development would be.

“Understand how big this project is,” says Pierce. “It’s 1.9 million square feet. And what does that mean? Well, Short Pump Town Center is 1.3 million square feet. Short Pump may have a bigger foot print, but for transportation purposes square footage is an indicator for traffic. The city has gone into this not having done any independent traffic studies or analyses of any of the sites.”

He then returns to the traffic the proposed casino would bring to Arthur Ashe Boulevard, which is often congested.  

“Let me give you another metric,” Pierce says. “On busy days, three times a week, the Cordish folks anticipate there would be 10,000 visitors to their site. What does 10,000 visitors look like? That’s a sell-out crowd on July 4 for a Flying Squirrels game.”

Pierce then describes the parking garage Cordish has indicated for the site. “The proposal initially said 3,500 parking spaces,” he says. “That’s a gigantic structured parking garage. More recently, I’ve seen in at least some of their statements that they may be talking about 4000 parking spaces.”

When you consider these three “metrics”, the impact on Arthur Ashe Boulevard would be devastating.  “One point nine million square feet; ten thousand visitors; four thousand parking spaces. This is a very, very, auto dependent development, like Short Pump. Short Pump doesn’t work if people can’t get there by car. So you’ve got the same thing here. This is a magnet to draw cars and there’s been no attention on the local level about those impacts.” 

Anyone who lives in the Northside, Scott’s Addition, or the Fan and Museum districts knows full well that Arthur Ashe Boulevard becomes stop-and-go often enough already. In pre-pandemic times, traffic making a left hand turn onto Leigh Street to enter Movieland was often backed up over the hump, sometimes all the way back to the Diamond. That would be the same route casino goers would use. 

“You’ve got to get off 95 at that terrible interchange,” Pierce explains. “You’ve got to go south on Arthur Ashe which at peak hours is already not a lot of fun, and then you’ve got to turn left on Leigh Street. Just think about queueing distances to get 4000 cars into there with one entrance point. Just think about a Squirrels game.”

The way the City administration has approached the casino reminds Pierce of other projects it has touted.  

 “I think one of the issues here, once again, is process,” Pierce says. “The City has known for over a year that a casino is a possibility at the same time they were updating their comprehensive plan.  They made a deliberate choice not to consider the casino as part of the comprehensive plan, and instead have opted, once again, for this very opaque, closed-door negotiating process which looks and feels very much like Navy Hill, like the Redskin Training Camp, like Stone Brewing. And so I think the process deserves mention here, and it’s not a good process.”

Even if the Mayor’s panel does support the Bow Tie project, there are a number of hurdles the proposal will still have to clear. “It will then require a City Council vote,” Pierce says. “And then it requires a conditional use permit and there‘s always the possibility for litigation, and there are folks out there who are reviewing those opportunities. And so this may very well be a long drawn out battle.” Then, of course, there is the referendum come November on casinos anywhere in Richmond.  

Consider the ultimate defeat of the environmentally destructive Atlantic Coast Pipeline, a fight which was won by civic resistance. “People won because they fought it every inch of the way,” says Pierce. “Bow Tie’s just a terrible location for a project like that. I’ve tried to advise the neighborhood folks. The simple mantra some of them use is ‘Casinos don’t belong in neighborhoods.’ They’re front and center on the grassroots work.”

Martial battles are won by ground wars. But on civilian battlefields, ground games rule. Consider Stacey Abrams who ran one of the most effective ground games in Georgia history. Her grassroots effort created a formidable voting bloc that delivered Georgia’s electoral votes along with the state’s two Senate seats in the runoff election to President Joe Biden. 

And remember President Barack Obama, the man who built the largest grassroots organization in the history of American politics? He learned early in his political career out in Chicago about the importance of a ground game, which requires non-stop canvassing, and engaging with actual constituents.

Residents from across the Second and Third Districts seem to overwhelmingly oppose the Bow Tie location for a casino. The same holds true for many local business owners. They are all ramping up their ground game.

Not long ago, the Ginter Park Resident’s Association (GPRA) conducted a simple survey of its members. “We did two questions and then we had a comment section, so people could give feedback,” says Prudence Justis, GPRA president. “We asked for names, addresses and emails because we wanted to make sure they were residents in our neighborhood, but we also wanted to make sure the poll wasn’t being stacked or stuffed. We wanted to make sure it was honest and fair.”

The results were an overwhelming thumbs down to the casino.  “Ninety-four percent did not want the casino at the Bow Tie location,” Prudence says. “And 83 percent said no to a casino anywhere in the City.”

Comments left by the respondents are concise, and strike with the force of iron.

“I'm not anti-gambling in general,” one respondent wrote. “But casinos are specifically designed to isolate its patrons from the outside world and direct their focus solely to the task of putting down their money, again and again, in an open-ended engagement without a cost ceiling or time constraints (as opposed to paying a fixed ticket price to attend a two-hour movie or concert). For those patrons with underdeveloped impulse control skills, it weaponizes their addiction. It also has a disproportionate financial impact on the economic classes that can least afford it. It is a form of the trickle-down economic fallacy that has been rightfully discredited and should be actively discouraged.”

Another Ginter Park resident wrote, “Scott's Addition and surrounding areas are booming with great new businesses full of dreams. Instead of letting this area develop properly to benefit us all, in accordance with the new Richmond 300 plan, we have this godawful casino proposal, a place where dreams go to die . . .  I am concerned about traffic, as well as damage to nearby restaurants and small businesses; I, for one, will avoid the area like the plague. A new casino in any part of Richmond would change the character of the city I have known and loved all my life.”

Yet another respondent, drawing on his own experience, had this to say: “When I was working in King of Prussia, PA about 10 years ago, a casino opened next door to where I worked. It was a horrible blight on the community in every way. No riches were realized for anybody except the out-of-town company running the thing. The people going in and out looked miserable and desperate, not carefree and excited. I hope to never have to see something like that on a daily basis again.”

Jeanne Walls, a gifted organizer who recently headed up the opposition to another casino location near Stratford Hills—a location that was ultimately rejected—is lending her support to Northsiders. “We’re going to strategize how we can help Northside,” she says.

And by so doing, she believes she will be helping the city as a whole.   

“I don’t want regional casinos anywhere in our city,” says Jeanne. “The city doesn’t need them. We need to figure out another way to make money other than bringing the trash to town. The city and our mayor and a few others tried to pit Northside against Southside, and there’s never been a competition in that at all. We obviously wanted to defeat Bally’s being here, but we didn’t want casinos anywhere. Northside doesn’t deserve it; the Eighth District doesn’t deserve it either. These choices were made for us, these decisions were made for us by the legislature. We didn’t have a vote in that. It’s dirty politics. They brought it in, and kept it under the rug.”

Jeanne was frankly surprised by how many people in the Stratford hills area were unaware of the plans to build a casino in their backyard. “You have no idea how uninformed people are,” she says. “These are business people, smart people that do not read the newspaper any more. They don’t watch the news any more. I was amazed by the amount of people that were not aware of this going on.”

She remembers when she planted the first NO Casino sign in her front yard just over a month ago. “People would stop and say, ‘What casino?’ They did not know the damned thing was going across the street from Stratford Hills.”

So she and other volunteers hit the ground running. “We did a feet-on-the-street campaign,” she says. “We had postcards printed up that had a list of all of the council people and the mayor that we should be contacting to say we don’t want this.”

Once informed, the community’s response was unprecedented. “I’m telling you,” says Jeanne. “The neighbors came out of the woodwork.

Their ground game penetrated the entire community.  “We strategized what neighborhoods to hit,” Jeanne says. “We knocked on doors to make them aware of what was happening right under their noses. And it worked. We obviously had a lot of online social stuff as well, but feet-on-the-street is what did it. Actually talking to your neighbors is what works.”

Jeanne is now lending her wisdom to Northsiders. “We’re ready to fight this to the finish as well,” she says. “We don’t need this mess. This is not the answer. This is a Band-Aid, and a damned poor Band-Aid at that, for our financial problems.”

Jeanne was critical of her Fourth District representative on City Council. “We never saw Kristen Larson,” she says. “We had no representation. We never saw her, she wouldn’t respond.”

Randee Humphrey, one of the people heading up the ground game in Northside, is a Laburnum Park resident. She penned an eloquent letter to the City of Richmond's Resort Casino Evaluation Panel, and to Richmond City Councilors.

“As a Richmond resident for 37 years, I am writing to express my adamant opposition to the 1.9 million square foot resort casino proposal by The Cordish Companies on the 17-acre site currently occupied by the Bow Tie Cinemas at Arthur Ashe Boulevard and West Leigh Street. Using the panel's evaluation criteria, I feel strongly that the project fails to meet basic and critical qualifications.

“The proposal fails to show "design creativity and quality of development" and does not demonstrate that it "complement(s) or is compatible with the neighborhood and Richmond’s culture and existing businesses"

“The Live! casino proposal is inarguably out of touch with the surrounding sense of place that has evolved through the organic, locally-driven, and decades-long devoted vision, energy, and investment of merchants, residents, and entrepreneurs of Greater Scott's Addition.  The Cordish plan of development shows no respect for historical context or the local character and culture of the surrounding neighborhood and is over-scaled for the limitations of its geographically bound 17-acre parcel.  This is not your "little casino around the corner," but a gargantuan, densely planned monstrosity towering over Arthur Ashe Boulevard, completely out of context with the "complete streets" and scenic "garden city" character described in the adopted Richmond 300 master plan.

“The proposal fails to achieve "compatibility with land use principles."

“The Live! casino does not "enhance the public realm and create a sense of place," nor does it fulfill the City's land use prescription and primary uses in a transit-oriented development for "retail/office/personal services, multi-family residential, cultural, and open space." In fact, to its eastern boundary, the Live! development would be adjacent to the Southern Park described in the Richmond 300 master plan as a "public space with sports fields and active-use areas for youth with integrated green infrastructure that supports water quality." Casinos by their very adult nature are not family-friendly destinations, and the Cordish plan is not the least bit convincing in its portrayal as a wholesome, synergistic addition to the fabric of midtown RVA. In stark contrast, VCU is pursuing expansion of its Athletic Village, in collaboration with professional baseball and in concert with the stated land use goals of Richmond 300.

“The proposal fails to achieve a "level of community support for proposed development and location/site" or demonstrate "economic development value of the proposed Casino and potential for community reinvestment and redevelopment in an area in need of such (e.g., potential to act as a catalyst for additional economic development in the area; level of need for such a catalyst in the corresponding area)."

“The Cordish proposal and its location is opposed by a majority of the local community living and working within a 2-mile radius of the site.  Residents have expressed grave concerns over the impact of this development on traffic and congestion, as well as its potential limited positive impact on nearby locally-owned businesses. The proposal fails to demonstrate a real knowledge of and commitment to the inclusion of local businesses in its business plan, and shows a complete disregard for real traffic impacts from Interstate 95/Exit 78 and along Arthur Ashe Boulevard/Hermitage and West Leigh Street corridors. The nearby residential neighborhoods distrust the Cordish Companies’ avowed commitment to local community benefits; the adage "a rising tide lifts all boats" does not apply in the case of casinos, which are designed as self-contained, all-purpose destinations that extract, rather than build, local wealth. With decades of evidence of local private investment in residential housing and small businesses, the Greater Scott's Addition/Boulevard neighborhood does not need a casino as a catalyst for further development.  

“Absent is any compelling "plan to mitigate any potential adverse effects on the neighborhood and community that may be caused by a Casino (generally (e.g., problem gaming initiatives) and traffic and parking mitigation plans"

“First of all, any proposed urban development that must include mitigation plans to offset the adverse negative impacts of such development makes no logical sense.  Why would the City even engage in a process that begins by addressing the downsides of a potential development? The serious adverse traffic and congestion impacts on the nearby residential communities are hardly inconsequential or easily addressed with parking garages and weak arguments of "counter-cyclical uses." And the potential social impacts resulting from problem gaming behaviors have been well-documented and cannot be "mitigated" by self-exclusion programs or employee training to help "identify clientele at risk of problem gaming."

“Finally, I want to make clear that I am opposed to a casino in any location where the nearby neighborhoods object to its development. For Richmond's Northside, where I've resided since 1984, the Cordish proposal is just another example of the City chasing after a short-term gain of promised revenue at the expense of its own residents and the longer term viability of neighborhoods and local businesses.  While I understand the City's need for additional revenue sources, I have to wonder why we are not more creative in finding multiple solutions that have a cumulative positive impact on the health and prosperity of all Richmonders.”

Randee tells me that a total of 14 civic associations had recently polled their membership, and opposition to the casino was astounding. 

“For the most part, these organizations are polling 85 to 95 percent opposition to Bowtie,” she says. “We know they have come out very firmly against the casino at Arthur Ashe and Leigh.”

Here’s a list of the civic associations Randee mentioned:  Bellevue Civic Association, Edgehill Chamberlayne Court Civic Association, Ginter Park Residents Association, Hermitage Road Historic District Association, Rosedale Civic Association, Sherwood Park Civic Association, Fan Area Business Alliance, Fan District Association, Hartshorn Community Association, Historic West Grace Street Association, Monument Avenue Preservation Society, Newtowne West Civic Association, Oregon Hill Neighborhood Association, and West Avenue Improvement Association. “And there is some indication that Battery Park will do a poll soon,” says Randee.

“For me it boils down to three things,” she says. “The first is my fear that we are expecting a casino to be a generator of economic prosperity. I feel that instead, small businesses in Scott’s Addition, in the Northside, the Fan District and in Carytown will be cannibalized. It is not likely that there will be spillover economic benefit. I love the fact that Scott’s Addition has grown so naturally and organically and the character of that neighborhood seems to me so in keeping with the entrepreneurial spirit of what we love about our small businesses in Richmond. I can’t envision us putting everything we built up at risk.”

 “Number two is traffic concerns,” Randee tells me. “I am terribly concerned about the congestion we already experience on a daily basis along that north-south corridor (Arthur Ashe Boulevard). And we can expect a considerable increase in traffic and congestion. Those roadways were just simply not built for the kind of volume that Cordish is predicting. We’re also talking about motor coaches from out of the area.” 

And Randee’s third point is about the very nature of casinos. “Casinos and neighborhoods are just not compatible,” she says. “It’s just flat out inconceivable to me that we would place a casino resort within a two-mile radius of dense, heavily populated neighborhoods. Casinos are not family-friendly destinations, no matter how they portray themselves. Casinos by their very nature extract wealth, they do not build wealth.”


Jonathan Marcus, president of RVA Coalition of Civic Associations, has tracked the citizen response to the Cordish proposal. “We have spoken with eighteen neighborhoods and none have come out in support,” he says.  “Most of the neighborhoods have done some sort of survey of their membership. Opposition across all the neighborhoods that have done the survey is running about eighty to ninety percent opposed. It’s a very broad opposition to the casino at Movieland.”

Jonathan recalls a zoom meeting he had with a Cordish executive. “He made statements like we’re going to donate $200 million dollars over fifteen years to social justice causes,” he says. “This is someone I met on a zoom call for fifteen or twenty minutes who was expecting me to believe that some guy out of nowhere is going to come up with $200 million. I said, ‘That’s very interesting, can you at least put a letter of intent in writing for me?’ And this Cordish executive said, ‘No we can’t do that.’”

If the name Cordish rings a distant bell, there’s reason for this. “Supposedly David Cordish, who’s the scion of the Cordish family, is friends with Donald Trump,” says Jonathan. Cordish’s son, Reed, a Baltimore-based developer, actually served in the former president’s administration as assistant to the president for intergovernmental and technology initiatives. 

Jonathan wonders why the City does not seem to be following its own guidelines. “The original request for proposal (RFP) issued by the City stipulated that any casino proposal must have community support,” he says. “The Cordish proposal at Bow Tie fails to meet this simple requirement. I can’t even think of any issue that would generate eighty or ninety percent agreement. That level of opposition is astounding.”

2nd District Councilor Katherine Jordan has listened to the resounding “No” from the people she represents. 

“They don’t want it,” she says. “And overwhelmingly I’m hearing they don’t want a casino period, anywhere in the city.”

The reasons she opposes the Cordish site are myriad. But she settles on four.

“One, overwhelmingly my constituents do not want this,” Katherine begins. “Two, Scott’s Addition is already thriving with locally driven development. Three, the traffic concerns that have been brought up have not been adequately addressed. Four, I’m not a proponent of gaming in general, let alone a casino.”

Katherine urges constituents far and wide to voice their opinion on this proposal. “I encourage everyone to continue sharing their feedback with our City Council, with the selection committee, and with our mayor,” she says.

Though there is extremely strong opposition to the proposal in the 3rd District, Councilor Ann-Frances Lambert is not taking a firm position on the Bow Tie location. 

“I’m still on the fence because again it’s two proposals they’re negotiating with the City right now,” she says. “I’m not saying yea or nay for either one because I want the City to get the best out of the proposals. 

“I want people to take a breath,” Ann-Frances adds. “This is the process that’s in place so I’m going to allow the process to happen. But at the end of the day, you know, if most of my constituents don’t want it, so shoot I’m not going want it.”

For most of us, our home is our biggest investment. I’ve spoken with a number real estate agents I know who fear the Cordish proposal could reduce property values in nearby neighborhoods.  

The other day, I created a mental scenario. In it, I was talking with a real estate agent because I was looking for a new house. The place she was going to show me looked nice enough and it was in a neighborhood much like Bellevue. In this fictitious scenario I was prepared to sign a contract and put down earnest money, until the agent, who was very honest, said this: “One thing you should know, there’s a casino going in less than two miles away from that house.” I capped my pen, elbow-bumped her elbow and thanked her for her time. Who, after all, wants to live near a casino? The short answer, and the long answer, is: no one; no one at all, in Richmond at any rate.

The National Association of Realtors back in 2013 released a study that indicated property values in neighborhoods near casinos plummeted by up to ten percent. The same study characterized the impact of casinos on the housing market as "unambiguously negative.” In summary, the report stated, “In general, externalities of congestion and other social costs appear to have a negative impact on home values in the immediate area of a casino.”

It’s not just homeowners who oppose the Cordish casino. Area merchants, whether they own yoga studios or restaurants, also strongly oppose the Bow Tie location for a casino.  

Alex Graf, owner of ZZQ Craft Barbecue in the heart of Scott’s Addition, is adamantly opposed to the Cordish plan.

“It has no place being here,” she says. “I think the self-contained-ness of it is not going to benefit Richmond at all. It’s literally like a cruise ship. It’s not going to be a sensitive development. Nothing about it is going to relate to our city.”

Alex refers to a recent poll conducted by the Scott’s Addition Boulevard Association. “The SABA poll has 77 percent of us saying no,” she says. “But they will not take an official stand. It’s disappointing. I would like them to take an official stand against the casino.”

Alex was part of the new commercial and residential awakening in Scott’s Addition. She had an architecture firm there in 2011, and three years later began doing barbecue popups at Ardent Craft Ales. Three years ago, she opened the brick-and-mortar restaurant on West Moore Street.

“Scott’s Addition is no place for a casino,” says Alex.

Over on Arthur Ashe Boulevard, the owner of Janet Brown Interiors also opposes the casino.

“I don’t think there’s any plus to it,” Janet Brown says. “I have not spent a lot of time at casinos, but the few times I’ve been it hasn’t been a very desirable lot. My feeling is I don’t think there’s any positive to it; I think it’s only negative.”

Nearby neighbor Chris Haynie, owner of Happy Trees Agricultural Supply, agrees. “I am not enthusiastic about it at all,” he says. “I don’t trust these casino owners funneling profits away from the community.”

He faults the City for not having carefully vetted the Bow Tie proposal. “I think my primary objection to the casino is lack of proper planning,” he says.  “When they’re talking about having an extra ten to twelve thousand people in the city on three prime traffic days a week in an area where it’s already hard to park and move around, that’s a problem. For us as business owners I fear it could adversely impact our customers willingness to come here, if they know it’s going to be a giant cluster on the way in and out. They might just go somewhere else.”

And it’s the institution itself that seems completely out of step with the Scott’s Addition community. “I also don’t necessarily agree with a 24-hour gambling and alcohol spot being right down the street from neighborhoods,” says Chris. “I don’t know, man. It’s similar to what they did with Navy Hill, they got this big greed sign in their eyes and they’re like, ‘Let’s do it.’ But they didn’t think about how it would affect the community.”

We step out onto the sidewalk, as cars come to a halt at a traffic light. Chris looks to the north and then to the south. “I don’t think anyone or our block supports it,” he says. He looks across the street at one of the locally owned restaurants that have made Richmond a foodie destination. “They’re talking about putting in eighteen restaurants at that casino,” says Chris. “None of that’s going to help the local community. One of the things I like about Scott’s Addition is there’s really nothing corporate here. If I want lunch I walk over to En Su Boca, or I go to ZZQ, or Lunch or Supper. It’s a very unique independently owned and operated neighborhood, and I don’t think that putting eighteen restaurants in a casino is going to be great for the neighborhood.”

Then he watches the traffic, which is now backing up several blocks. “I also don’t think the City’s really grasped what all that traffic is going to do,” Chris says. “It’s not only going to be vehicle traffic, it’s going to be people extremely intoxicated on alcohol,  and they might not be in the best mood or they might be blackout drunk.”

Less than two miles north of Scott’s Addition on MacArthur Avenue, Bob Kocher, who owns Once Upon a Vine, is clear in his opposition to the Cordish project.

He remembers a meeting with Cordish representatives that was hosted less than a month ago by the Bellevue Merchants Association and held behind his business. “I asked them about some of the problems I heard about in the casino in Baltimore,” Bob says. “They skated around the issue, they wouldn’t give you a direct answer.”

“I am opposed to the casino at Bow Tie for several reasons. Number one,” he says. “The crime rate—robbery and prostitutions—that goes along with it, and the influx of drugs which also goes along with it.” 

“I’m also opposed because people who become addicted to gambling lose their homes, lose their families,” he says. “There’s a written document that attests to this fact. You know, 90 percent of the money that comes in that door goes to the casino, and not even ten percent of it goes to the players, and usually the big players. Casinos destroy families. You’re going to have people losing their mortgage money, just gambling it away.”

Bob Kocher, a long-time business owner, worries about the impact a casino would have on the local business community. “A casino will take away from retail stores like myself and restaurants,” he says.

Just up the street I talk with restaurateur Jimmy Tsamouras who owns Dot’s Back Inn and Demi’s Mediterranean Kitchen, both of which are located on MacArthur Avenue.

 “I’m against it,” says Jimmy flatly. “I enjoy going to Vegas every once in a while, and I enjoy gambling. But I’ve been to the casinos in Baltimore, Pittsburgh, West Virginia and MGM, of course. There’s nothing luxurious or grand about them. I don’t think it’s a good fit for our neighborhood. I think if they want to do it they should do it in the Manchester location. Not that I’m in favor of that to begin with, but if they’re going to do it, that’s where it should go.”

Jimmy is also concerned about the additional burden a casino would place on law enforcement. “It puts more on the shoulders of our police,” he says. 

And like other local business owners, Jimmy sees the casino as a drain on the local economy. “Casinos are designed for you not to leave,” he says. “A casino will not benefit the local economy in Northside or Scott’s Addition. It’s only going to hurt it. It’s only going to take business away. It’s going to bring people in, but it’s not going to bring people to Scott’s Addition, it’s going to bring people to the casino.”

He again mentions the old Philip Morris tract on Walmsley Boulevard and Commerce Road in Southside. “People are not going to come to the casino because it’s in Scott’s Addition,” says Jimmy. “They’re going to go to the casino wherever it is. If you put the casino in Mechanicsville, they’re going to go to that casino. Bow Tie is not the area for a casino. It’s going to take away from the local economy. Richmond’s going to get its tax money whether it’s in Scott’s Addition or Southside. They’re not going to get more because it’s in Scott’s Addition.”

Every single person I’ve spoken with, even informally on the streets, is utterly opposed to the casino on Arthur Ashe Boulevard. I ran into Richmond Commonwealth’s Attorney Colette Wallace McEachin at a Taste of Brookland Park Boulevard recently. She was speaking as a citizen not in her official capacity. 

“I know that there are two projects up, and that the project that is on Southside in Reva Tramell’s district has her constituents’ support,” Colette told me. “So I think that’s vital. So if somebody asked me where I thought a casino would be built, I think it’s going to end up being built in Southside.”

What finally happens with this proposal is a crapshoot. Still very much uncertain. But there are things that we do know. In the words of Pierce Homer, “They (the City) made a deliberate choice not to consider the casino as part of the comprehensive plan, and instead have opted, once again, for this very opaque, closed-door negotiating process which looks and feels very much like Navy Hill, like the Redskin Training Camp, like Stone Brewing. And so I think the process deserves mention here, and it’s not a good process.”

Other words by Pierce bear repeating as well, words about the hurdles that will still have to be cleared even if the Mayor’s selection panel decides on the Cordish plan. “It will then require a City Council vote,” Pierce said. “And then it requires a conditional use permit and there‘s always the possibility for litigation, and there are folks out there who are reviewing those opportunities. And so this may very well be a long drawn out battle.” 

And this November, every Richmonder will be able to exercise their democratic right to cast a ballot in a referendum on any casino in Richmond. They can vote No CasiNo No.