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Problem gambling group hears former lawyer's addiction story
12 February 2010

From the Courier-Journal on Friday, February 12, 2010:
 
KENTUCKY -– Michael J. Burke said he put a .38-caliber gun to his head one night at his Michigan law office and came within seconds of blasting a bullet through his skull – delivering what he believed would be sweet release from a full-throttle gambling addiction.

Burke, speaking Friday before several dozen counselors and gambling industry executives at the annual conference of the Kentucky Council on Problem Gambling, said he lied for years to his family and hid trips to a Canadian casino before the world learned that he had stolen $1.6 million to feed his addiction.

He wove a fascinating tale of his rise as a successful small-town lawyer who had it all but lost big because of his compulsion. He now is disbarred after serving three years in prison for embezzlement.

The 13th annual conference Thursday and Friday – which focused in part this year on criminal justice issues – came as Kentucky lawmakers have all but ruled out a big legislative push to legalize video-gambling terminals at horse tracks, despite Gov. Steve Beshear’s support for expanded gambling to help balance the state budget.

The non-profit council continues to advocate for treatment funding for addicts and to increase awareness about the social costs of gambling. A study last year commissioned by the council estimated that Kentucky has 9,000 full-fledged compulsive gamblers, as well as 50,000 problem gamblers and another 190,000 people who are risk of becoming addicted.

In Indiana, where 11 casinos and two horse tracks with video-slot machines operate, the numbers are even higher because of the state’s larger population, according to the Indiana Council on Problem Gambling.

Burke, 64, is the author of “Never Enough: One Lawyer’s True Story of How He Gambled His Career Away.” The American Bar Association published the book in 2008 and has supported Burke’s efforts to share his story. Burke now works part-time as gambling counselor at Brighton Hospital, the Detroit-area facility where spent a month in 1978 to treat his alcoholism.
He said he offers his case as an example commonly seen in the world of addictions – the guy who trades one vice for another. One of 10 children in a Catholic family, Burke’s father was the state’s liquor control commissioner, a position that left his family’s basement stocked with cases of wine, beer and spirits. He said drinking was acceptable as long as no one brought disgrace on the family or his father’s lifetime appointment.

Ten years into his marriage to his high school sweetheart, Burke was forced into alcohol treatment. He became a regular at AA meetings and his life took a turn for the better as he started a family, grew his law practice and embraced community activities.

But Burke said he eventually discovered the thrill of gambling while playing blackjack in Las Vegas. He kept the gambling at bay for a while, until a casino opened in 1994 in nearby Windsor, Ontario, 58 miles from his house.

“Nobody ever knew I gambled,” he said, because he lied about going to court in other counties in order to spend time at the casino.

As he bet higher and higher amounts during the late 1990s, he said, he drained his savings and wound up borrowing $75,000 from clients who were close friends. To repay the loans, he said, he dipped into client escrow accounts.

During the final month, he said, “I went through $600,000 – all lost in a blackout. I didn’t remember any of it.”

He turned himself into the state bar association, then to the state Attorney General’s office, eventually pleading guilty to embezzlement

But his family stood by him as he emerged from prison and rebuilt his life. He estimates he has spoken with 7,000 patients at Brighton, as well as dozens of community groups and gambling counselors such as those gathered in Lexington.

“It’s a powerful story,” said Caleb Cooley, an accountant and council board member from Pikeville who also has a story of addiction and rebirth.

“For some of us,” Cooley said, “it takes a crisis.”




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