I think we may have something on these frauds already, but here's a good story on how even county officials can be fooled.
http://www.recordonline.com/apps/pbcs.dll/article?AID=/20110424/NEWS/104240327Ulster's tribal land war
County out $240K in casino quest by wanna-be tribe
By Steve Israel
Times Herald-Record
Published: 2:00 AM - 04/24/11
First, Ulster County bets its casino dreams on a wannabe Indian tribe led by a chief who, when not crooning country music at the old Concord Resort or preaching the Gospel on the road, was forging documents saying he was an Indian.
Today, after the Western Mohegan Tribe and Nation crapped out in its decadelong attempts to build a casino at the crumbling Tamarack resort outside Ellenville, the county is out some $240,000 in taxes owed by the Mohegans for the past three years — with another $40,000 due next month. And the future of the Tamarack — and that $240,000 — is on the line Thursday when the resort goes on the block at an Ulster County sheriff's sale — because of an unrelated $600,000 judgement against the Mohegans that the tribe claims was already paid.
All because countless officials in Ulster fell for an unrecognized tribe's schemes to chase the elusive casino dream — a dream to breathe new life into the old Catskill village of Ellenville and pump new blood into this slice of the bygone Borscht Belt.
"We were sold the dream," says Ulster County Comptroller Elliott Auerbach, who, as Ellenville village manager, was one of many local leaders who backed the Mohegans' pursuit of that casino. "Based on their presentations, the village stood to gain, the school district stood to gain and the county stood to gain. It's not about Chief Ron (Roberts); it's more about economic opportunity."
And now that the opportunity seems to be fading?
Auerbach looks back at countless casino schemes in Ulster and Sullivan counties and dreams and says:
"It's been 20 years of a shell game."
It's a shell game that down the road — if Ulster eventually forecloses on the property — could leave the county out at least a quarter-million dollars and stuck with a dilapidated, litter-strewn 250-acre resort with shattered windows, caved-in roofs and off the tax rolls.
All because, about 10 years ago, blond-haired, blue-eyed Ron "Chief Golden Eagle" Roberts came to western Ulster with promises as grand as the mountains that once lured thousands of visitors to this former summer paradise.
The chief and the Concord guy
Roberts — teamed with former Concord owner Robert Parker — said the Mohegans would build a hydroponic farm on the resort they — and Chicago investors — had bought at a tax sale for $900,000. They'd construct an Indian museum. There would be money for charities, the hospital and volunteer fire departments, they said, singing a song officials in Sullivan have heard so often, it's a golden oldie.
And, oh yeah, recalls Town of Wawarsing Assessor Mike Sommer, Roberts also said, "We might even have a casino."
And why not? Back in 2001, the state was passing a law allowing three Indian casinos in the Catskills. All sorts of officials — including former Ulster Treasurer Lew Kirschner, Auerbach and Ellenville Mayor (and current Mohegan lawyer) Jeff Kaplan, were behind the tribe, especially because they didn't want to see all of the potential casino cash go to Sullivan.
But little did they know — or want to know — that just a few years before, Roberts — who declined comment and referred all questions to Kaplan — had pleaded guilty to fraud, for using his son's credit cards. He also tried — unsuccessfully — to join the tribes that ran the Mohegan Sun and Foxwoods casinos in Connecticut. After he formed his own tribe in 1997, he had even opened his own high-stakes bingo hall in his hometown of Granville, N.Y. — which was immediately shut by the state because, Attorney General Elliott Spitzer's office would later say, the claims the Mohegans made to prove they were a real tribe were "either false or highly misleading."
And, of course, Ulster couldn't know that in 2004, Roberts would plead guilty to filing altered documents to prove that the tribe he had created was legitimate. He had gone as far as changing the "W" (for white) on his grandfather's death certificate to "I" (for Indian), according to federal court documents and the Bureau of Indian Affairs.
No matter.
If they say they're Indians ...
Kirschner, a prominent backer of the tribe's casino quest, believed they were legit then — and he still believes it now. "I don't think there was any fraud intended," he says. "I believe they're Indians and besides, my job was to sell vacant property."
So about a decade ago, the Mohegans began replacing old floors of the Tamarack with new reinforced ones — to support slot machines. When a town building inspector showed up to inspect their work, he was told to leave because he had no authority over this "sovereign nation," Sommer recalls.
Development-hungry officials played along — as they often do in neighboring Sullivan. The Ulster County Legislature had even voted to allow the tribe to pay $25,000 per year in lieu of taxes — apparently one of the Mohegans' many attempts to show that at least one government body recognized them as a tribe.
"I think it was a backdoor way for them to get recognition," says Sommer, who recalls being asked by various officials to take the tribe off the tax rolls, which he never did.
But even when that recognition never came, the tribe — and county — pursued their casino dreams.
The Mohegans even sued the state for millions, demanding the return of some 900,000 acres of land in 10 counties, including much of Sullivan and Orange, because they claimed it was their ancestral territory. The case was dismissed.
Of course, the Mohegans never did get that casino.
But because the tribe was never taken off the tax rolls — despite that $25,000 per year agreement — the taxes mounted on the resort now assessed at $1.2 million. By 2006, they and their Illinois partners paid $383,718 in back taxes.
Casino dream kept alive
So you might think Ulster County would wise up to Roberts' schemes — especially after the state threatened legal action against the county if it signed on to a bankruptcy agreement, which was, the state said, a ploy "to gain some official recognition as a legitimate Indian tribe."
But in 2008, after the tribe owed another $75,000 in back taxes on the Tamarack and again filed a federal lawsuit seeking the federal recognition necessary for a casino — and to stop Ulster from seizing its property — Ellenville and Wawarsing once more placed their bets on the tribe's casino dreams. The village and town approved resolutions backing the tribe's quest for recognition and asked the state to "promptly" approve a casino deal.
Again, the reason was the economic boost a casino would bring. "We need to do everything we can to make this happen," Auerbach said then. It never did.
So now, instead of a casino, Ulster County is out at least that $240,000, and perhaps a taxable property. The Mohegans may be on the verge of losing their land, which is why Ellenville Mayor Jeff Kaplan, who once waited tables at the Tamarack, is representing the tribe at the sheriff's sale.
"I got a knock on my door from Chief Ron, who said, 'They're trying to take our land,'" says Kaplan.
He says the tribe claims it can get the money to resolve the suit — "by either knocking on the door of another tribe, or going to a benefactor."
Which sounds like the wannabe tribe is still clinging to its Catskill casino dreams, like so many others in Sullivan and Ulster.
"The Catskills still do need a shot in the arm," says Kaplan.
sisrael@th-record.com
