Nathan Gotsch

The traditional story of the first Thanksgiving—a harmonious feast between the Pilgrims and the Native Americans—is a simplified version of a much more complex history.

While it’s true that in 1621 there was a gathering involving the English settlers (the Pilgrims) and the Wampanoag people, the circumstances surrounding this event are deeper and more nuanced.

The Wampanoag, led by Chief Ousamequin, encountered the Pilgrims when they were struggling to survive in a new land. The Wampanoag people taught them essential skills like planting crops and fishing, which were crucial for their survival.

However, this interaction wasn’t solely based on friendship. The Wampanoag were dealing with their own challenges, including the aftermath of diseases brought by earlier Europeans and tensions with rival tribes. Their alliance with the Pilgrims was strategic, aimed at strengthening their position in the region.

Over the following decades, as more English settlers arrived, the balance of power shifted dramatically. This led to increased tensions and eventually erupted into conflicts like King Philip’s War in 1675, led by Ousamequin’s son, Metacom (who was called King Philip by the English colonists).

Metacom expressed deep grievances over the loss of Wampanoag land and the colonists’ disrespect toward his people. The war was devastating, resulting in the deaths of thousands of Native Americans and the enslavement of many more, including Metacom’s wife and nine year-old son, who were sold into slavery in Bermuda.

A particularly tragic and telling event occurred at the war’s end. After Metacom was killed, the English colonists ordered his body to be dismembered. They beheaded him and placed his head on a pike, displaying it in Plymouth Colony for 20 years. This act was meant to serve as a warning and a symbol of the colonists’ dominance.

That’s a stark and sobering reminder of the brutal realities that followed that initial 1621 gathering, which wasn’t called the “First Thanksgiving” until the 19th century, when it was retroactively named that by historians and writers crafting a national narrative around the holiday.

The establishment of Thanksgiving as an official celebration didn’t occur until 1863. That’s when Sarah Josepha Hale, a writer and editor of America’s leading women’s magazine, campaigned for a unifying national holiday in the midst of the Civil War. She believed that a day of gratitude could help heal a divided nation.

President Abraham Lincoln embraced this idea and proclaimed Thanksgiving a national holiday, aiming to foster unity and reflection during a tumultuous time.

This weekend, my mom and her New Haven High School classmates are gathering to celebrate their 50th reunion. Her date will be my dad, who grew up in Fort Wayne but spent his summers lifeguarding at Meadowbrook Pool in New Haven.

Among the topics likely to be discussed: the casino Full House Resorts wants to build on the southeast corner of the I-469 and U.S. 24 interchange, just outside her hometown.

At an informational meeting Monday, Full House senior Vice President Alex Stolyar said New Haven officials have already begun the process of annexing those 60 acres, which the company has secured an option to buy.

Their current plan is to build a $500 million complex in two phases that would include gambling — slot machines, table games and a sportsbook — a 200-room hotel, and a concert venue.

By its third year in operation, Full House expects to rake in nearly a quarter billion dollars in annual revenue and return 6.7% of it — $16.4 million — to New Haven in wagering taxes. (They’ll also pay a few million in property taxes, but that money will likely go to cover the increased city services their outsized presence will require.)

Leaving Monday’s meeting, I overheard one attendee mutter to another, “Seems like it’s already a done deal.”

It may feel that way, but there’s still one big hurdle to clear: the Indiana General Assembly must pass a bill transferring Full House’s gambling license from its failing casino in Rising Sun to the New Haven market.

If Full House were requesting a new license, it would be required by state statute to hold a referendum in New Haven, which would give each citizen the ability to vote yes or no on the casino.

That’s not the case for a license transfer, however, though our legislators could write a referendum requirement into their bill for this one.

Mitch Harper, a New Haven native who served as the city’s state representative from 1978 to 1990, told me that’s what he thinks they should do. After all, whether Full House applies for a new gambling license or transfers the one from Rising Sun, the result is the same for the people of New Haven: a giant casino that will have a significant impact on the future of their city.

One can debate whether that impact would be good or bad, but it’s hard to argue that New Haven residents shouldn’t have a say.

That’s why it was a bit of a head scratcher when state Sen. Andy Zay — whose district is 20 miles from the proposed complex — flatly told WOWO radio’s Kayla Blakeslee on Wednesday that “there will not be a referendum.”

He made that declaration despite the fact that Full House’s plans were only unveiled to the public on Monday and the license transfer bill — which cannot be introduced until the Indiana General Assembly goes into session in January — presumably has not yet been written, let alone finalized.

Why would Zay and his colleagues want to pass a bill without letting the citizens of New Haven weigh in?

It might sound paranoid to suggest there could be payoffs for shepherding the license transfer through the statehouse. But that’s exactly what happened the last time a gambling company wanted to relocate an underperforming Indiana casino.

Just last month, former Rep. Sean Eberhart, R-Shelbyville, reported to federal prison for wrangling a $350,000 job with Spectacle Entertainment — plus an equity stake in the company — in exchange for supporting a successful license transfer for Spectacle in 2019.

In light of that, one would think Zay and the other members of the northeast Indiana delegation — particularly Rep. Dave Heine and Sen. Tyler Johnson, who represent New Haven — would want to avoid appearing to favor Full House’s interests over that of their constituents, especially considering Heine’s family ties to the industry.

His son-in-law, Adam Kallick, is a lobbyist who represents gambling interests, though he confirmed to me in an email that Full House is not one of his clients. In 2020, Kallick refused to participate in an Indiana Gaming Commission investigation over illegal campaign contributions to a different member of the Indiana General Assembly, with his attorney writing in an email, “While Adam wishes to be cooperative with the IGC, I cannot let him compromise his Fifth Amendment rights.”

Legislators such as Zay, Heine and Johnson could put any corruption concerns to rest by making a public commitment to put a local referendum in the license transfer bill Full House wants.

It shouldn’t be too much to expect Full House — which says it’s prepared to invest a half billion dollars into a New Haven casino complex — to make its case directly to residents.

No gambling referendum in Indiana has failed in the past 25 years, so Full House presumably has nothing to fear in giving the people of New Haven the authority to vote on this issue.

Zay told Blakeslee that if New Haven’s citizens want that power, they need to contact Heine and Johnson to demand it.

“We are elected to make decisions like this,” he said. “The citizens will work through their legislators and will need to make their voices and opposition or support well known to us.”

I expect that they will. In fact, I’d bet on it.
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Originally published in the Fort Wayne Journal Gazette (9/28/2024)

Photo by Marek Mazurek for Inside INdiana Business