Addicted gambler recovers 'one day at a time'

Hooked on Gambling: First of three-part series

LOUISVILLE, KY —

Jim Chesser says there were early signs, when he was a young man, that he had a problem with gambling.

Like the lies he told his wife about casino nights at the local golf club. Then losing his entire bankroll on what was supposed to be a fun Las Vegas vacation.

But it wasn't until Indiana allowed riverboat casinos to operate on the Ohio River within driving distance of Chesser's Louisville, Ky., home in the early 1990s that the former bus driver became hooked on blackjack.

Within two years, Chesser says, he was in so deep he spent 27 hours straight at a blackjack table, chasing a winning streak. He borrowed $2,000 against his life insurance policy to gamble and had racked up several thousand dollars in debt. He says he thought about suicide but sought help instead.

Now 55 and a recovering gambling addict, Chesser wears a gold cross around his neck and regularily attends the Northside Christian Church in New Albany, Ind. His deeply furrowed brow offers a telltale sign of his past anxiety.

It was eight years ago March 20 that Chesser says he placed his final bet at a blackjack table in Bay St. Louis, Miss. It amounted to $200 and was the last of $2,000 he had borrowed against his life insurance policy to pay for the trip.

Chesser lost the bet, and when he confessed his bad luck to his wife, she threatened to divorce him if he didn't quit. In addition, he was $4,000 in debt from gambling. So he called Gamblers Anonymous.

Chesser was not a high roller, but he estimates he lost as much as $200,000 throughout his gambling career. He considers himself a lucky "high-bottom gambler," someone who got scared off before he lost it all.

Gambling was always a part of Chesser's life in Louisville. His father took him to Churchill Downs and other racetracks. His mother loved bingo halls. He saw the thrill of winning everywhere.

Like many compulsive gamblers, Chesser recalls, betting was not about the money for him. It was the high he felt sitting at the blackjack table; the looks of approval from others when he triumphed over the dealer.

"The euphoria is so high that I could be around 500 people and all I could see would be me and that dealer across the table and that money in front of him," said Chesser.

And the low?

"When I walked out after losing," he said. "I would get physically sick in my stomach, and say 'I will never, ever do that again.'"

Mental health experts who treat problem gamblers talk about the stages that addicts like Chesser go through. It starts with the winning stage, advances to the losing stage and ends up with the desperation stage. Then, for some of the luckier ones, a recovery stage.

For Chesser, the winning stage started on his very first bet. He turned a silver dollar at a blackjack table into a $35 gain. From then on, he says, he could feel the anticipation of the cards.