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As more casinos close, MarketWatch explores what life after gambling could look like in America's Playground.

Nearly 30% of Atlantic City's population lives in poverty. Stretches of its iconic boardwalk lie in disrepair. And by the end of this year, four of its 12 casinos will have shuttered—wiping out 8,000 jobs and almost a fifth of the city's tax base.

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But for all of its struggles, Atlantic City isn't dead. One walk along another stretch of that same boardwalk, crowded with beachgoers and t-shirt shops, palm readers and ice-cream stands, is enough to put rumors of its demise to rest. Atlantic City has long depended on the spoils of gambling to support its economy, and for many years gaming encrusted the town in gold. But the city's former monopoly has slipped away, making the need for economic diversification all the more urgent. Case in point: One of its biggest casinos, the Revel, closed in early September after just two years in operation. (An older casino, the Showboat, closed on Labor Day weekend, and Trump Entertainment Resorts Inc. announced recently that it would have to close the Taj Mahal by November if it can’t increase revenues and extract concessions from unions.) The transition from a flagging gaming town to a more economically varied tourist destination is a tough one, and the wellbeing of the city's residents and visitors, business leaders and politicians hangs in the balance. MarketWatch took a trip down the shore in mid-August and asked more than a dozen of these stakeholders for their take on the financial landscape, and future, of Atlantic City.

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Welcome to Atlantic City One of the more likely explanations for how Atlantic City came to occupy its stretch of island real estate along the Jersey shore: Developers basically drew a straight line from Philadelphia to the sea and plopped down a town at those coordinates. As Charles Funnell writes in his history of the city, "By the Beautiful Sea," it was, "created inevitably by the outreaching forces of urbanization and industrialization." Since its incorporation in 1854, the city has been a cradle of leisure, accessible to a broad swath of urban residents, many of whom got there via a railroad designed for that explicit purpose. In part because tourism always made up the backbone of the city's economy, it has gone back and forth between booms and busts for much of its existence. Read more about the history of the city In the early 1900s, people came to visit the large, ornate hotels. During the Prohibition-era 1920s, the city gained clout as a destination where alcohol flowed freely, as dramatized in the popular television show "Boardwalk Empire." The city's decline after World War II precipitated the legalization of gaming in 1976, which lured a whole new group of visitors to the slots and roulette tables. The iconic casinos that anchor Atlantic City's shore-side skyline came into being during this iteration of the city's identity. Business activity became highly concentrated in gambling and its attendant enterprises, which made the local economy all the more vulnerable as surrounding states legalized gaming, diluting Atlantic City's key draw. Whereas Atlantic City once made New Jersey second to only Nevada in terms of total gaming revenue, Pennsylvania squeezed into the second-place spot in 2012. Between 2006 and 2014, other states in the mid-Atlantic region added almost 34,000 new slot machines, the equivalent of tacking on another Atlantic City's worth of clanging, flashing coin swallowers. Meanwhile, slot revenue in the region increased just 12.2%, according to data from the Atlantic City Alliance -- a relatively small growth in gaming dollars for which many more businesses are now competing. From its peak of over $5 billion annually, gaming revenues in Atlantic City casinos declined 45% between 2006 and 2013; Fitch Ratings last week reported that it expected revenue to sink even further, to about $2 billion, in the next few years. In recent years, the city has made progress in diversifying the mix of tourism activities among its 27 million annual visitors. Casinos, for example, derived 29% of their revenue from non-gaming activities in 2012, compared with 18% in 2000, according to the New Jersey Casino Control Commission. Yet, the Atlantic City gaming houses remain far more dependent on gambling than their Las Vegas counterparts (see the chart below). Now the city is likely to end the year with only eight casinos in operation, four fewer than when 2014 began. The Atlantic Club closed in January, and three more – Trump Plaza, Showboat, and Revel – will have closed by the time the summer is over. The Revel was a $2.4 billion gleaming glass tower that opened to great fanfare in 2012, a beacon of hope for the beleaguered local gaming industry. If the closures aren't exactly surprising, they underscore just how much ground Atlantic City has lost as a gambling hub. Reflecting the knock-on effects of the casino closures on the local government, Moody's Investors Service in July downgraded the city's municipal bonds to junk, a speculative-grade category reserved for less than 1% of the most distressed local governments. For the city's 40,000 residents, and those who live and breathe in tandem with the city, the shifts taking place are far more personal. Gaming's prominence Unlike their Las Vegas counterparts, Atlantic City casinos have been slow to diversify away from gambling Source: NJ Casino Control Commission/ Department of Gaming Enforcement/UNLV

'They don't let anybody play that big anymore' The high roller Don Johnson, an entrepreneur from Bensalem, Pa., famously won $15 million over the course of three nights at Atlantic City casinos in 2011. On one of those nights, his $6 million blackjack winnings at the Tropicana left a notable dent in the casino's monthly revenue. But Johnson, who founded Heritage Development LLC, a computer-based system for betting on horse races, thinks it would be difficult for another high-roller to repeat his winnings in Atlantic City. That's largely because the struggling casinos don't allow the same level of high-stakes bets that they did during his hot streak just three years ago. Getty Images "They don't let anybody play that big anymore," Johnson says in a telephone interview. Thanks to new limits on bets, he says, to take home a payday like his, "you would have to win 10 times as many hands." (Agreements with high-stakes bettors tend to be sensitive information handled differently by each casino, and they are often done on a case-by-case basis. Spokespeople from the Borgata, Tropicana, and Caesar's, the three sites of Johnson's winnings, did not return requests for comment.) Johnson says he's no longer welcome at some of the high-roller tables -- something MarketWatch was unable to independently verify -- but he says he'd no longer frequent those establishments anyway, and he doesn't think other high-rollers are doing so either. With the proliferation of casinos across the eastern seaboard, he says, big gamers are finding less of a reason to do their betting in Atlantic City. "If it comes down to the deal being the same, why would you go to Atlantic City unless they are offering something different in terms of the experience?," he asks. So, while Johnson still enjoys the beach activities in Atlantic City, he sticks with Las Vegas and international destinations for his high-stakes gambling.

Out of work Atlantic City unemployment versus state and national average Source: Bureau of Labor Statistics 'Worse and worse every day' The soup kitchen cook Francisco Ortiz gazes out from the porch at Sister Jean's, a local soup kitchen that operates from a Presbyterian church. The brown brick building is a formidable presence, but still hides in the shadows of the Trump Taj Mahal, one of the first casinos to begin donating its spare food to the kitchen. Everyone who passes through the church's doors gets an amiable handshake from Ortiz. It's nearing 2 p.m., but people keep coming in. Ortiz, an assistant cook at Sister Jean's, estimates that 700 to 800 people come through each day. Ten years ago, it was more like half that, he believes. "It's getting worse and worse every day," he says from behind a pair of shiny aviators. Ortiz says the folks who come through Sister Jean's are sometimes homeless, though often they just need a meal to free up cash to help them with bills. Some might not be poor at all, given Sister Jean's founding motto that anybody be served, regardless of need. Ortiz has been working at the kitchen since Jean Webster, the eponymous founder, brought him on board. They used to work together at the Taj, where Ortiz was a host. Webster, who was known around Atlantic City as a helper of the needy, passed away in 2011, but the kitchen still provides a hot meal to anyone who wants one. There is no shortage of needy. The local unemployment rate was at 13.1% in June, well above July's national average of 6.2%. Census data shows nearly 30% of the city's population live below the poverty line, well above the 10% average in the rest of New Jersey. Local officials are bracing for more out-of-work residents amid the casino closures. Doreen Rose, who was having a meal at Sister Jean's, acknowledges, "There are a lot of new faces."

'What's happening is healthy' The former lawmaker Steve Perskie pitched the legalization of gaming in Atlantic City as a means of revitalization while he was in the New Jersey state senate in the 1970s. When the first casino opened in 1978, it heralded years of prosperity for the city as the industry grew. Perskie's career has spanned political office, government work, the judiciary, and, currently, private legal practice. In all his years working with the city in various forms, he says, the state and its casinos never planned ahead for the day gambling would be legalized elsewhere, prying customers away from the shore. "Atlantic City's failure was that not enough people thought about and accepted the reality that sooner or later there would be widespread competition for the gaming dollar," he says at his home in neighboring Margate. Now, Atlantic City is finally grappling with the need to diversify its economy and adjust the size of its gaming operations for the level of demand. It's an "ugly" transition that puts many people out of work, Perskie says. But that pain will ultimately create more strength for the city as time goes on, he believes. "What's happening is healthy for Atlantic City. Atlantic City is going to wind up being better off next year than it is this year," Perskie says.

Getty Images 'There's still a community here' The cocktail waitress Lately, the tone at the Trump Plaza Hotel and Casino has become a bit nostalgic. Customers who have been coming in for years have been pouring out their regret to employees about the property's looming closure, currently scheduled for Sept. 16. And among workers, there's been a lot of reminiscing as well. "We've been doing some throwback Thursdays. We've been keeping each other afloat," says Dawn Inglin, a cocktail waitress who works on the gaming floors at the Trump Plaza. "Situations like these have a tendency to spark the human spirit. These are some difficult days but it also makes you dig a little deeper." Inglin, who has worked in Atlantic City casinos for three decades, has been partnering with her union, Unite Here Local 54, which is trying to rally the community and business leaders to keep the property open long enough to find a buyer. Their position is that the three casinos closing this summer are viable entities, and that keeping them open would stave off the loss of 8,000 jobs. For Inglin, the impending closure signals what has become a growing divide between the people who run the casinos and the ownership groups, whose interests used to be more aligned. Once the official closing date for the casino rolls around, Inglin says, she will reassess her employment options. Her son is grown and she has no dependents. But she's still one of the many people who have a stake in these hotels staying open, ranging in age from their teens to their 60s. Even as the city's gaming economy continues to struggle, these dark days are giving fresh life to her sense of hometown pride, Inglin says. "It's a beautiful place to live and a beautiful place to work. We've all raised our kids here and had a good job and a good living," she said. "With the façade of Atlantic City in the front, there's still a community of people here."

'If you look at the economy, it's obviously stressed' The bond investor Being a municipal bond analyst is all about boiling down the economic and financial activities of a city into an assessment of how risky its debt is. That analysis helps determine whether and how much investors should pay for its bonds, and how much interest they should demand. In the case of Atlantic City's $245 million in municipal debt, Chad Farrington says that the city's gaming industry is a key focal point of that outlook. Farrington, the head of municipal bond research at Columbia Management, notes that his firm used to have a small holding of Atlantic City bonds, but sold it at the end of last year after an assessment of how the city's credit condition could affect the price of the debt. Getty Images "If you look at the economy, it's obviously stressed," he said by telephone from Boston. "There's a declining tax base to pay for services – not just debt service but the operating services of the city." This July, Moody's Investors Service agreed, lowering the rating on the city's debt two notches to Ba1, squarely in junk bond territory. The rating agency cited a dour economic outlook still dominated by the long-suffering gaming industry, which makes the debt riskier to own. When Revel, the city's second largest taxpayer, announced that it would shutter its casino, Moody's put out another statement saying the closure would further pressure the quality of the city's debt. Revel and the three other casinos closing their doors in 2014 together constitute 17% of the assessed value of the city's tax base. City officials have said that while they are not surprised by the downgrade, they do not agree with it. But Farrington notes a bright spot for the city's credit: The state of New Jersey has shown a willingness to step in to help some of its other troubled cities, and has indicated that it is being proactive in Atlantic City. After Revel announced that it would close, Governor Chris Christie convened a meeting to discuss the city's economic future.

Bloomberg News 'No one says ‘I'm going to Atlantic City'' The jitney driver Frank Becktel spends his days driving people to Atlantic City destinations. When it comes to the way passengers view his hometown, he sees signs of an identity crisis. "No one says ‘I'm going to Atlantic City,'" Becktel muses from the front of his green and white jitney, one of a group of minibuses that serves as a mode of transportation around the area. "People say ‘I'm going to the Borgata, HQ, or Haven'" -- some of the more popular resorts and nightclubs. He says that the visitors who arrive in the city are increasingly doing so for a specific attraction, not for the city as a whole. It's a more fragmented tourism economy nowadays, with some people coming to shop, others for gaming, and still others for the nightlife. Becktel waits for riders to arrive at the train station, all of whom he'll drop off at the Borgata casino. Then he drives past the Tanger shopping outlets, which are packed with people on a rainy Tuesday afternoon. He arrives at Gardner's Basin, a neighborhood huddled around a quiet, protected channel. From here, the row of boardwalk casinos looks about as small as it can look from this side of town. Across the water, you can see the house where his parents live. Becktel's family has been in Atlantic City for three generations, so if there's anyone who can vouch for the charm of the city in its entirety, it's him. Becktel strolls up to Gilchrist Restaurant & Marina, a breakfast joint known for its pancakes. It's full of locals, but tourists would have to be in the know to find it. It's just one sign that outside the forbidding walls of the casinos, Atlantic City is a highly diverse little beach community. That's the city Becktel knows, and that's what he wants visitors to see when they get in his cab.

'There is a ripple effect' The mayor When an entire city is depending on you, it helps to think about your obligations in terms of timeframes. Most immediately, Atlantic City Mayor Don Guardian is going for a bike ride. His daily 6:30 a.m. jaunt along the boardwalk is more than just exercise. He checks out the beaches for stray cigarette butts, looks in the public restrooms to make sure they're clean, and ensures that the city's most prominent public corridor is ready for the day. "If I can have some sort of comfort level with the fact that I touched, I saw, I smelled what was going on there, I will be comfortable for the rest of the day," he says from a conference room inside Boardwalk Hall, one of the city's main event venues along the waterfront. Ben Eisen/MarketWatch With four casinos closing this year, one of the near-term priorities for Guardian will be to help provide for the slew of people that are soon to be out of work. For the city's neediest people, he is working with local social-service and faith-based groups to provide food and shelter. For folks who have worked in the casinos their whole lives, the city is prioritizing job training and skills enhancement. Part of that will take place through a grant from the Casino Reinvestment Development Authority, a state-run fund that pools gaming taxes and reinvests them in the city. In the longer term, the city needs to attract new businesses, something that's becoming a joint effort with politicians at the local and state level. One sign of investment: Bass Pro Shops will open a $34 million retail store next spring, bringing with it 300 new jobs. Further out on the horizon, there's talk of trying to diversify the community by bringing in a four-year college. Around town, many locals are buzzing about Guardian, who was a dark horse candidate last fall when he won election against a 12-year incumbent. Previously, he had been the director of the city's Special Improvement District, tasked with beautification of the city, following a 15-year career as an executive at the Boy Scouts of America. Walking along the boardwalk, he often gets stopped by locals, who are eager to get a minute of his time. For his part, Guardian seems to turn that air of excitement into a sense of purpose in his role -- one that expands far beyond the boardwalk. "If you are selling shrimp, you really care about how many restaurants are opening up and how many pounds of shrimp they're buying from you," he says. "There is a ripple effect, and that's a positive when jobs are growing, and that's a negative point right now."

Ben Eisen/MarketWatch 'The casino experiment did not work' The hotel and bar manager The Irish Pub hotel and bar inhabits a plump six story brick building near the boardwalk where there's a yawning gap between two large casinos. The pub, which attracts a mix of locals and tourists, has been around for over a hundred years, predating the massive structures on either side by a long shot. The establishment dates back to a time when the main draw in Atlantic City was its bustling resorts. The array of historical artifacts around the place offers strong reminders of its past. During the prohibition era, the pub was an infamous speakeasy. Frank Pileggi, the Irish Pub's manager, takes a grim view of the casinos. He thinks they put local establishments out of business on the way in during the late ‘70s. And now they're destroying the smaller businesses built around them (think laundries and bakeries) on the way out. "The casino experiment did not work," Pileggi says, during a pause between checking in guests and answering telephones. The massive scale of the casinos makes it difficult for the little guys to compete, which means that the pub and hotel have had to shed staff over the years to stay in business. Now, much of the extra work falls on him. Melissa Maiorano, who has been waitressing at the pub during her summers between college semesters, adds that while there's still a healthy crowd that comes through the bar, she's seen her tips drop over the past five years. Pileggi sees more pain on the horizon. "For the local people here, this will be the equivalent of the Great Depression," he says.

'There were an awful lot of empty chairs' The vacationers Atlantic City has been reinventing itself since its creation. Given that so many different versions of the city exist, the vacationers who frequent its shores align with the different iterations of the local economy as well. Jim Snyder, a retiree from Delaware, was sitting alongside the boardwalk with his wife, brother, and sister-in-law at the Atlantic City airshow, an annual tradition that drew as many as 800,000 people this year. Snyder's group had come to town, like many visitors, on a bus that costs $25 but comes with a gaming voucher for the same amount. Snyder and his family are partial to Atlantic City's slot machines. But since gaming houses have popped up along the East Coast – including in their home state – they've found less reason to make the trek. There are tons of people like them, all contributing in some small way to the city's declining gaming business. "There were an awful lot of empty chairs," Snyder says of the Atlantic City slots. "There was a time when you had to wait to get a machine." Ben Eisen/MarketWatch Others still see the blossoming of casinos three decades ago as a deterrent to making the voyage to Atlantic City today. Mary Tracy, who is president of the nonprofit Scenic America, owns a house in the neighboring borough of Longport, down the coast from Atlantic City. She has fond memories of going to the boardwalk as a child, before the enormous betting houses opened, but says that the development of casinos turned her off many years ago. "It's a parasite industry," she says in a telephone interview. She adds: "Any city that depends on one industry is asking for trouble." Some visitors give a nod to what the city hopes to become – an all-around, Vegas-like tourist destination that attracts visitors as much for the entertainment, shopping, and nightlife as for the gaming. Mildred Alberty, a retired teacher who lives in the Bronx, was reading a book in a leather chair in the middle of one of the vast empty corridors of the Revel casino on the day it announced that it would close. Her husband was at the gaming tables. "Atlantic City is a good deal for families that can plan their vacations so that everyone can have a little bit of fun," she said.

'More people in Atlantic City than in years' The town booster Pinky Kravitz is sitting along the boardwalk, pointing out families. The 86-year-old is undoubtedly fond of the city he's called home for most of his life, the city he has promoted throughout his five-decade run as a talk show host on local radio. His various improvement projects along the boardwalk are another manifestation of that pride: He's responsible for a bronze statue of a be-sashed Miss America, standing ready to crown whoever is standing underneath. (The Miss America pageant, which started here in the 1920s, returned to the city in 2013 after having been held for several years in Las Vegas.) Kravitz sees signs that the city's revitalization efforts are paying off. Families are big money in a tourism-focused city, and all the locals are trying to get a read on who is coming through. That's not to say families are the target of the city's marketing efforts – official literature promoting the city advertises it as an "adult" destination. But incursions by families are a tangible sign of the sheer number of people who come through. "There are more people in Atlantic City than in years," he says. And it's not hard to believe: The mass of people walking along the boardwalk at midday on a Tuesday is a spectacle in itself. Kravitz is relentlessly positive, and for him, the closure of four casinos is merely one obstacle for a town that has its head turned forward. But there is one issue that turns Kravitz stone-faced: an upcoming referendum to allow new casinos to open up in North Jersey, which some analysts say would siphon even more gaming revenues from the Atlantic City casinos. Kravitz thinks it could pull the rug out from under his city's recovery efforts. "We need to defeat the idea of having a casino in North Jersey because it will hurt our business in South Jersey," he says.

Getty Images 'This is about doing the right thing by your customers' The casino operator The casinos that are serious about operating in Atlantic City are doubling down on their investments in the region. Take the Resorts hotel and casino, which is owned by real estate mogul Morris Bailey. It was the first to open its doors for gaming in Atlantic City, in 1978, but it lost a lot of luster as newer competitors opened up. As recently as last year, many expected Resorts go the way of the other shuttering casinos. But Resorts has made a turnaround, particularly in the past year. Its gross operating profit last quarter was $1.92 million, its biggest operating profit since 2008, according to the New Jersey Division of Gaming Enforcement. The operators credit the rebound to a broad reinvestment in the property, including updated rooms and modernized gaming floors. They also invested some $70 million in new entertainment that includes a restaurant run by Jimmy Buffett's Margaritaville chain, built in conjunction with the state-run Casino Reinvestment Development Authority. "It really gets back to the basics of running a fine property," said Mark Giannantonio, president and CEO of Resorts, over iced tea in one of the casino's recently built players' lounges. "This isn't rocket science. This is about doing the right thing by your customers." The key to becoming a true competitor in Atlantic City's contracting gaming market is reinvesting in the property to keep it up to date, he believes. That strikes at a broader chord: In an industry that's in decline, differentiation and quality become all the more important, according to Israel Posner, who leads the gaming, hospitality and tourism institute at Richard Stockton College, which is located inland from Atlantic City in Galloway, N.J.. "Now that casino customers have a lot to compare, you have to put out a much more quality product," he said. He adds that in the casinos that are closing, "capital expenditures have been very, very weak."

'There are so many sites available for development' The fix-it crew Atlantic City's two-year-old effort to develop a broader economic base is led by two agencies, one operated by the state of New Jersey and the other by the casinos. To get a sense of their task at hand, take a stroll down the boardwalk. "The boardwalk is basically the best visual depiction of what gaming did for and did against the city," says Liza Cartmell, president of the Atlantic City Alliance, a nonprofit group funded by the casinos that is tasked with marketing and branding the city. "For years and years, the casinos were basically structured as if they had a steel wall on the world-famous boardwalk." Now, the goal is to break down those barriers and sell the city to potential visitors holistically as an all-around tourist destination -- one that's equally ready to receive a ministers' convention as it is to play host to a bachelor party. The Atlantic City Alliance works alongside the Casino Reinvestment Development Authority. Legislation in 2011 redirected the CRDA's money, which had flowed all over the state, directly to Atlantic City. It now supports a range of local activities, from repaving the streets to putting in new restaurants along the boardwalk. ACA, meanwhile, has undertaken efforts to brand the city, such as putting together a beachside concert with country music performers Blake Shelton and Lady Antebellum earlier this summer The groups' leaders see Atlantic City as something of a canvas. John Palmieri, executive director of the CRDA, describes what he saw upon arrival in this way: "It wasn't so many blighted structures so much as vacant parcels. There are so many sites available for development." The idea is that redevelopment and marketing will work in tandem to create the kind of environment where business leaders want to move in. So far, there are nascent signs that it's benefiting the city: though gaming tax revenue continues to decline, other tourism revenues like luxury and sales taxes are on the rise.

Ben Eisen/MarketWatch 'Nostalgic for the Jersey Shore summer I never had' The journalist The images that stayed with me after my trip to Atlantic City centered around the boardwalk. I had never been to the city before this reporting assignment, so I wasn't sure what to expect. But watching the diverse flow of people – old and young, black and white – enjoying the temperate summer weather created the feel of a thriving city, other struggles be damned. As my trip neared its end, I started to get nostalgic for the childhood Jersey Shore summer I never had. (Being a Boston guy, my escape always led to Cape Cod.) I went for one last walk north along the boardwalk, passing the casinos one by one: Resorts, Taj Mahal, Showboat. The t-shirt shops and ice cream parlors had a warm, familiar glow. The crowds began to thin as I approached the Revel casino, which closed in early September. Once I passed the big glass structure, the crowds were gone altogether. I kept going, beyond what looked to be a pedestrian barrier that had been overturned. As the buildings thinned out, the noises of the boardwalk quieted and the sea breeze picked up. Gradually, wooden slats started to go missing from the boardwalk. Other pieces of wood had been tossed aside. That part of the boardwalk will eventually be connected around the side of the island all the way to Gardner's Basin as part of a project funded by the local and federal government, alongside the Casino Reinvestment Development Authority. But as I continued walking, the slats got further and further apart, revealing widening holes through which the rocky shore shown below. I had to lengthen my steps to get from board to board, so that I didn't fall through. And then, all of a sudden, the boardwalk just stopped.

This story has been updated to reflect ongoing news developments. An earlier version of this article misspelled the name of Frank Becktel.