Casino quandary is no child's play

The grainy images still flicker in the mind's eye. Seven-year-old Sherrice Iverson scampers into an arcade restroom at a Primm hotel-casino. A young man trails her. Twenty-five minutes later, he exits. Alone.

Authorities identified the man on the surveillance tape as Jeremy Strohmeyer, then 18. He later would tell Long Beach Police what happened. What no one saw.

"He said he picked her up and, using both hands, twisted her head in an attempt to break her neck," officers wrote in an arrest report. "He said he heard a loud 'pop' the first time he twisted her neck but noted that she still had some movement. Strohmeyer said he again twisted her neck with all of his strength and felt this killed her."

Strohmeyer faces an August trial date for the sexual assault and slaying of Iverson in the early hours of May 25, 1997. No matter his guilt or innocence, the case will provoke bitter suggestions for how to dispose of those who prey on the young. If there is any consolation, it is only that the death of the little girl from Los Angeles -- unlike too many other child killings -- inspired something more tangible than anger and sadness and unanswerable questions.

In response to the Iverson tragedy, Clark County passed an ordinance last year that restricts arcade hours for children under age 18, and requires security guards in game rooms. Several casinos have gone further, barring young children from arcades altogether unless accompanied by a parent or guardian. Most casinos -- including Primm Valley, formerly Primmadonna, where Iverson was visiting with her father and brother -- no longer keep arcades open all night.

The ordinance signaled that Las Vegas, already considered among the nation's safest resort towns, wanted to prevent a freak occurrence from mutating into an ugly trend. Yet a year after Iverson's death, questions linger about whether enough has been done to keep kids safe in casinos.

At the same time they utter a mantra of "heightened awareness" and "increased vigilance" in monitoring children, casino officials caution that security measures can only do so much. Aside from what the ordinance stipulates, few hotels, if any, have upped the number of guards on patrol. Child care in casinos remains a rarity.

Still, if it appears hotels ought to broaden their safety net, child advocates maintain that casinos can't, and shouldn't, play parent. They instead point out that while Las Vegas may draw more kids than most cities, it's no different than anywhere else in one essential, obvious respect: grown-ups have to look after their children. And in that regard, a small segment of tourists and locals remains stubbornly oblivious to what might happen if they don't.

They would only have to think back to last May, when security officers at Buffalo Bill's booted LeRoy Iverson for letting his daughter roam unsupervised while he gambled. He walked over to Primm Valley with Sherrice and her 14-year-old brother, Harold, and turned them loose in the arcade. There, security twice warned LeRoy about Sherrice running free.

When officers found her again around 5 a.m., she was dead, her limp body propped up on a toilet seat.

"We've been very lucky that we've only had one Sherrice Iverson," said Suzanne Magleby, social work supervisor for the county's child care licensing department. "Parents have got to take responsibility."

The sign outside Primm's game room reads:

"Buffalo Bill's Resort & Casino, Primm Valley Resort & Casino, and Whiskey Pete's Hotel & Casino DO NOT and SHALL NOT BE DEEMED TO HAVE legal care, custody or control of any child or minor under the age of eighteen (18) years while in this arcade as provided in ordinance number 12.12 of the Clark County Code."

It's 2:20 a.m. Monday, one week before the anniversary of Iverson's death. Surveillance tapes from the morning she was killed showed teenagers and youngsters darting through the arcade, left unattended as their parents gambled. Now the doors are locked. The game room closes at 10 p.m. on weekdays and 12 a.m. on weekends.

Primmadonna Corp. officials refused to comment on the Iverson case, referring questions to Sal Gugino, the attorney representing the resort in separate wrongful death lawsuits filed against it by LeRoy Iverson and Yolanda Manuel, Sherrice's mother. He declined to confirm whether Primm Valley, 45 miles southwest of Las Vegas, has bolstered its security since the slaying, saying only that the hotel has abided by the county's arcade ordinance.

But, Gugino noted, "All the regulations on earth aren't going to protect a child as well as a parent. And if a parent isn't diligent, no number of laws passed by a legislative body is going to help."

Iverson's killing turned up the flame on long-simmering debates over allowing children in casinos and what some perceive as the Vegas-as-Disneyland marketing approach taken by hotels. The local chapter of the National Association for the Advancement of Colored People and the Ohio-based National Coalition Against Gambling Expansion argued that Primm Valley bore some of the blame for her death.

The criticism flowed despite Iverson being only the second child killed in a Southern Nevada casino. In 1987, 7-year-old Alexander Harris disappeared from Whiskey Pete's arcade and was found dead a month later. A jury acquitted San Diego computer analyst Howard Lee Haupt of kidnapping and murder in the case.

Given the hordes of children who come to Las Vegas -- 10 percent of the 30.5 million people who visited last year were under 21, according to the Las Vegas Convention and Visitors Authority -- casinos "have done a good job with kids' safety," said Las Vegas Metro Police Capt. Douglas Gillespie. He oversees Metro's southeast area command, which patrols Las Vegas Boulevard south of Sahara Avenue.

"It was an isolated incident that occurred in Primm, and for the most part, the properties make things as safe as humanly possible," Gillespie said.

Added LVCVA spokesman Rob Powers: "The Iverson tragedy notwithstanding ... if you look at the number of people who visit on an annual basis -- more than 30 million -- and you look at the track record, our reputation internationally and domestically as a safe destination is well-founded."

Even so, the grisly crime stained that reputation, compelling the gaming industry to "take a hard look," in Gillespie's words, at how to assuage parents' anxiety.

In addition to backing the arcade ordinance, which established training for security guards to help them identify pedophiles, many Las Vegas casinos worked to educate all their employees in tracking unsupervised children. While the size of their security forces has stayed about the same, several hotels, including Boulder Station and the Sahara, curtailed game room hours.

"We just thought it (curbing arcade hours) was doing the right thing," Sahara owner William Bennett said. "Most of the casinos in town are out to get the high rollers. I don't give a damn if a high roller ever comes in. We're after the working stiffs, and they're inclined to bring their kids. So we better take care of them."

If only every parent felt a similar obligation.

Denese Morris runs two child care services, Vegas Valley Baby Sitting and Precious Commodities, that provide sitters to casinos. Business has slipped in the year since Iverson died; Morris attributes the drop to both that slaying and the sensational trial of British au pair Louise Woodward, convicted of involuntary manslaughter in the death of an 8-month-old Boston boy.

Aside from a blow to her bottom line, Morris views the loss of customers as a sign some parents haven't learned from last May's events.

"It's really terrible," she said. "I'll walk through a casino and see kids left on the stairs or off to the side in a chair, slumped over, exhausted. Kids are left alone in rooms for hours, left alone in cars, left to run around while the parents get caught up in the gambling."

In the wake of Iverson's brutal death, Primm Valley and other casinos came under fire for featuring arcades, amusement rides and other attractions that entice parents to bring along their kids -- attractions that also lure child predators.

(In a related note, the Las Vegas Hilton paid a $350,000 fine Thursday for letting children play slot machines while waiting to enter its Star Trek: The Experience attraction. State law prohibits minors from loitering in gaming areas.)

Las Vegas in the 1990s has split gaming executives into two distinct camps: those who embrace families and those who offer a handshake. If Bennett, generally regarded as the first to tap into the kiddie market during his two-decade stint as president of Circus Circus, embodies the former, Mirage Resorts Inc. Chairman Steve Wynn represents the latter. Mirage spokesman Alan Feldman said the company's properties, which include the Golden Nugget, The Mirage, Treasure Island and the soon-to-open Bellagio, strictly appeal to big kids, i.e., adults.

"We're not designed for families. We don't allow kids to stay free," Feldman said. "It works. Less than 5 percent of our room nights involve kids under 21."

Parents who travel to Las Vegas with kids in tow find such claims of entrepreneurial innocence somewhat hard to believe. Take Ron Blanchette. The Pinetop, Ariz., resident drove here last weekend so his 8-year-old daughter, Brittney, could visit the MGM Grand's theme park and ride New York-New York's roller coaster.

"People wouldn't come if there wasn't something for kids," Blanchette said, as he and Brittney waited for the Treasure Island pirate show to begin. "Las Vegas is in the entertainment business, and they want something for everyone."

Bennett estimates that the presence of kids in a casino doubles the number of security officers needed. But while hotels readily ante up for more guards, most balk at another amenity, one that might have saved Iverson's life: on-site child care.

While child care could prevent a replay of the Primm incident, hotels fear the prospective liability, according to Jill LeMasurier, executive director of Nevada Child Seekers, a missing children's organization. Regardless, casinos owe guests the courtesy, she said.

"They're trying to get families, and if they're doing that, they need to take the responsibility in helping look after the kids. There should be free child care, accessible to anyone."

A smattering of casinos provide child care, including Boulder Station and Sunset Station, Gold Coast, Silver Nugget and Showboat. The MGM is the lone Strip hotel to offer services, although Bennett said the Sahara plans to build a child care center as part of its upcoming expansion.

Like other casinos with day care, Boulder Station provided the service well before Iverson was slain. The hotel's popularity with locals prompted the decision to put in a facility, said Felix Rappaport, Boulder's vice president and general manager.

"Even though we'd love all parents to be responsible, the reality is, a lot of people will come to a property with a child, and they'll get left off to the side while the parent plays," Rappaport said. "We don't want parents placing their kids up next to a (slot) machine."

A month after the killing at Primm Valley, Clark County Commissioner Erin Kenny floated a proposal of mandatory child care in casinos. Industry officials quickly backed away from the table. When asked why Mirage Resorts does not offer day care, Feldman replied simply, "Parents provide child care."

"Providing child care (in casinos) would only encourage parents to bring kids more often," he added. "If you brought 'em, you care for 'em."

The week Iverson was killed, Primm officials had begun considering on-site child care. No facility has been built.

Since casino security staffs typically resolve cases of unattended children, Child Protective Services receives few calls on abandoned kids at hotels, said Ann Rubin, a supervisor with the agency. Many casinos will ask adults to leave if security finds kids wandering alone more than once. Others will contact Metro and take children into temporary protective custody.

Those youngsters have Sherrice Iverson to thank, said Ernie Allen, president of the National Center for Missing and Exploited Children, which joined with the American Gaming Association earlier this year to hold a seminar in Las Vegas on protecting kids in casinos.

"Her loss was a tragedy. The loss of any child is," Allen said. "But the child who pays this kind of price does not die in vain because I'm convinced thousands of kids are going to be safer now."

In a morbid coincidence, Strohmeyer said much the same during his confession to Long Beach police.

"Strohmeyer conveyed that there was some good that had come of this incident...," the arrest report reads. "Strohmeyer said that parents now are going to be aware of letting their children go off by themselves."

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