Arnie Wexler hasn't placed a bet since 1968 but he still can't go to a racetrack.

The “recovering” compulsive gambler now helps others who have the same problem, as well as organising seminars for casino staff with his wife Sheila. “At that time the only organisation dealing with this was Gamblers Anonymous,” Wexler told InterGaming.

“Then in 1972 I was involved in the formation of the National Council on Compulsive Gambling, the first self-help group. Then in 1982 I helped to start the New Jersey Council on Compulsive Gambling, for which I was executive director for eight years. I was involved in that until 1994, when Sheila and I decided to quit our jobs and start our own agency.”

Arnie & Sheila Wexler Associates also runs a helpline and offers treatment services. “We’ve been all over the world helping people with their gambling problems,” said Wexler. “And we do that without charge. The money that comes in from our seminars and training courses helps to pay for the individual help that we offer to problem gamblers.”

The couple run 10 to 12 seminars a year and work with operators such as Caesars. “It is not a widely known fact that casino employees are more prone to problem gambling than the rest of the population,” said Wexler. “We don’t know if the industry attracts such people or if they are ‘turned’ by the environment they are working in.”

Wexler does not have any urges to gamble when he is in a casino because he didn’t use casinos when he was betting. “But I still can’t watch a race at a racetrack, even today. The old feelings would come back and I would have to fight it all over again.”

He says that the problem with compulsive gambling is that it is “hidden.” He said: “You can see the marks on a drug addict’s arm and you can smell booze on the breath of an alcoholic, but there’s nothing in normal circumstances to make a problem gambler stand out.”

Wexler added that it is not even easy to spot a compulsive gambler in a casino. However, there are some tell-tale signs, such as queuing for ATMs at midnight to collect the next day’s allowance, asking for extensive credit, bouncing cheques, borrowing money from other players, changing betting patterns and showing no interest in dinners or shows. “What drives such a person on is the prospect of a big, life-changing win.”

What does he think of the responsible gambling policies of today’s casinos? “Well, it’s better now because 25 years ago casinos were doing nothing about this. Some casinos have really good strategies, but others need to do a lot more. Some people in the industry think that problem gambling is a joke. The commitment to responsible gambling has to be there at the top of the organisation.”

Arnie Wexler’s own story is a cautionary one. He started gambling aged seven or eight in New York, flipping baseball cards, pitching pennies, shooting marbles and playing pinball machines. At 14 he started to bet on sporting events and got into the stock market.

“Also at around that age I went to the racetrack for the first time. That night at Roosevelt Raceway I had my first big win and walked out of the track with $54. Looking back today, I think it was that night that changed my life. I was making 50 cents an hour after school and working between 15 and 20 hours a week, so even though the win was only $54, it was about five weeks’ salary to me at that time.”

By 17 he had started to steal to support his gambling and by his early 20s he was betting big amounts on games he really didn’t know much about.

“At this point in my life I was working full time in a shipping company and every Tuesday when we got paid there was a regular craps game out in the hallway. Almost every week I would lose my pay in this game. I began stealing merchandise and by then I also had a finance company loan and was borrowing from my co-workers.”

He got married and thought of stopping, but he couldn’t. “I went away to the Army Reserves for six months and gambled every day. When I came home in the December of 1961, I owed $4,000 and didn’t even have a job.”

He found work again and started a family. “I was a plant supervisor for a Fortune 500 company, but my gambling was so out of control that I was stealing everything I could to stay in action. Our home life was deteriorating - gambling was more important than anything else that was going on at home.

“I now had three bank loans and three loans to finance companies. I owed a loan shark an amount of money equal to one year’s salary. One weekend, just before I hit the bottom, I called a bookmaker and took a shot by betting a round robin which amounted to about two years’ annual salary. If I lost that bet, there was no way I could pay it. That night I went home and sold our car to a neighbour.

“I would come home from gambling and see my wife crying all the time, depressed, sick. Our daughter was four years old and I don’t remember her walking or talking. I either wasn’t home or when I was my head was consumed with the gambling.

“I was running out of options. My boss came to me one day and told me that a detective was following me and he had a report on my gambling. He knew that I was betting more money than I earned and he was sure that I was stealing from the company and that if he found out he would have me arrested.

“I thought that I was the only one living the way I was, but I found out that I was not alone and that I could stop gambling with the help of other people. In the last 20 years I have been able to devote my working life to helping others who have this problem and educating people about compulsive gambling. This has been a dream come true.”