Although he’s past traditional retirement age, Tom Grey plans to keep fighting the expansion of legal gambling. At 66, Grey is both a Vietnam veteran and a veteran of battles against gambling. He is executive director of the National Coalition Against Legalized Gambling.

On an annual budget of not much more than $100,000, he has helped grassroots groups repeatedly defeat well-financed gambling initiatives. He even thinks the tide may be turning against new gambling initiatives as more people become aware of the devastating impact of gambling addiction. He also notes that the promises of economic development haven’t been kept as well as predicted, with many of the benefits confined to the gambling establishments.

Grey has a sunny, optimistic perspective. Anyone who fights against the spread of gambling has to have a hopeful perspective, or he would be despairing at the spread of this legalized cancer that used to be shunted off to back alleys and behind closed doors. Historically, legal gambling is similar to dueling or cockfighting or bear-baiting. Christians and others fight against it for a time, often after a period of spiritual revival, and some laws are passed making it illegal. Yet in a time of moral relativism, greedy promoters worm their way back into the social fabric by mocking opponents as spoilsports who can’t stand to see anyone having any fun.

Grey thinks that the spread of legal gambling is reaching its peak. He points to the defeat of proposed gambling expansion in three states last fall: Ohio, Nebraska, and Rhode Island. “There’s no popular groundswell for more gambling,” Grey said, noting the margins of defeat in those states.

Stories of the tragic personal and social impact of gambling addiction are a factor in some of that opposition, according to Grey. Nashua County, Fla., for example, saw its bond ratings drop after a county employee stole $1 million for a gambling habit and then committed suicide.

More legal gambling leads to more addiction. Estimating the exact cost of addiction is tricky; but in Ohio, Grey contended, the proposed expansion would have cost the state more than $1 billion, with 100,000 more addicts.

Grey never planned to spend so many years fighting gambling. After Army service in Vietnam, he was a Methodist pastor in Chicago, and then in Galena, Ill., where he fought a local casino proposal. A county referendum yielded 80 percent voter opposition. But the vote was non-binding, and county officials let the casino come anyway. “These deals are cut in back rooms between politicians, lobbyists, and gambling operators,” he said. “I decided to fight. My theology is action.” So he keeps on fighting against the gambling proposals, winning a surprising number of battles in a David and Goliath contest.

“Retirement is a non-starter when you are in a good fight, for the future of your children and grandchildren,” he said. He gets ample media coverage and is surprised at how well his small group has done against an industry with deep pockets. Chicago Tribune columnist Paul Galloway has called him “Prophet of the Year” for warning against gambling. Grey has shown an unusual ability to bring evangelical and fundamentalist church leaders together with mainline churches in efforts to stop gambling proposals.

“I’m just a little guy, a rifle company commander. I’m still waiting for the generals to join me in this battle against gambling,” he said.

He thinks top business leaders ought to join him in the battle, and occasionally they do. In Nebraska, Omaha-based billionaire Warren Buffet lent his name and money to help defeat a gambling initiative in his state.

“In the beginning I thought I would stand up, do the right thing and probably get beat by the gambling industry,” Grey said. “Now I’m dangerous. We’re winning the hearts and minds of people as evidenced by our ballot-box victories.”