4 JANUARY 1, 2002
Smoke Signals
Stories by Chris Mercier
CHIEF FINANCIAL OFFICER HAS BEEN THERE SINCE THE BEGINNING
Ty Huff used to wrestle other wrestlers, now he grapples with the bottom line.
xy HUFF
y- V You can take the gaming, trie
dining, the ambience, the
customer service and really
jw7 Mountain and find one com
mon link constantly rein
venting the business and pursuing eco
nomic self-sufficiency for the Tribe by
making money.
It's simple, really. Millions of dollars
flow in and out of the casino week by
week and a significant portion of the
cash choosing to remain finds a purpose
in drawing more of its kind in the door.
"You can't stop and quit putting money
into this business," said Ty Huff, Spirit
Mountain Casino's Chief Financial Officer.
"If you do, it's gonna die."
And watching the casino die probably
doesnt sit high on Huff's list, especially
since he is one of the few people who
have been here since its inception in
1995. He came on originally as a cor
porate controller whose duties included
managing accounts receivable, financials
and purchasing.
As CFO nowadays he can summarize
his duties easily, "I protect the assets of
the company." Mainly, he oversees the
flow and distribution of money through
out the casino, leaving not one red penny
unaccounted for. Sounds like a pretty
general duty, yet Huff toils roughly 50
hours per week, a number he hopes to
cut back on with another child on the
way.
Huff is homegrown material, born in
Eugene, college at Oregon State Uni
versity in Corvallis, and presently he lives
in Salem. You can call Huff a family man.
Fittingly, he met his wife, Susan, six
years ago at the casino. Their son,
Scott, is six years old.
An OSU alumnus, Huff received his
Bachelor's in Business 10 years ago. His
career in business began with Isley &
Company, the auditing company that still
works with CTGR to this day.
One thing that most people immedi
ately notice about Huff is his stout build,
a quality that most people guessed
would have made him a wrestler at one
point and when asked the question, he
affirmed it.
"Oh in high school it was a blast," Huff,
a graduate of Sprague High School in
Salem, said. "But in college they were
very determined, very competitive.Jn
fact, too competitive."
The fact that he wrestled for OSU, an
elite program under Coach Dale Tho
mas, probably accounted for that.
"The practices were crazy," he said,
reflecting. "People (teammates) were
psychotic."
College wrestling was short-lived for
Huff, but he still remembers fondly the
high school years, for the sport induced
a sense of discipline in him that carries
on to this day. He wrestled in the 157
lb. class and barely missed the state
tournament his senior year.
Though he loved the sport, and the
competition, many of the extreme physi
cal aspects of wrestling wore him down.
Any wrestler can vouch for the harrow
ing physical regimen and what bothered
Huff the most was the weight cutting.
As strength advantage plays such a
large role in the success of a wrestler,
many in the sport engage in the drain
ing practice of fasting before a meet,
the result being that they would lose
sufficient poundage to compete in a
lower weight class. Some wrestlers are
rumored to drop more than 10 lbs only
days before a meet.
"I didn't like that," he said. "Some
guys would cut 10 to 12 pounds before
meets, and when you compete,
man.. .you're hurting."
Huff is a Certified Rescue Diver.
SCUBA diving has been his prime pas
time for years now (when he has the
time). And his diving adventures have
taken him to some famous aquatic ven
ues, including some Puget Sound loca
tions, Maui and the Channel Islands near
Santa Barbara.
Unfortunately, or fortunately, no en
counters with the ocean's celebrities
(Orcas, Great Whites) have manifested
themselves yet, but Huff has seen some
impressive underwater denizens like
octopi and wolf eels.
Huff clearly likes his job and consid
ering how much time he puts in every
week that must clearly be a good thing
at least for sanity's sake. When he sets
foot every day inside those doors, a
whole new realm opens up, the abode
of casino management, and Ty Huff has
a good share of insight for those curi
ous about such things.
"You learn a lot here," he said. "You
learn to work with a lot of different
people, a lot of personalities."
Huff said the enjoyable atmosphere
that pervades the casino has changed
little since he came on board.
According to Huff, many of the origi
nal crew realizes that Spirit Mountain
remains a pretty sweet situation.
"People leave, and then they come
back, and a lot of people say they didn't
know what they had until they left," he
said. "They really appreciate it when
they come back."
And contrary to a popular notion, the
exodus of Bruce Thomas, the Executive
Officer until last year, and the arrival of
Michael Moore to replace him has al
tered little the inner workings of Spirit
Mountain.
Spirit Mountain Casino is the biggest
tourist attraction in Oregon.
Spirit Mountain is the best casino in
the Northwest, Huff said, and with the
kind of conviction to make one suspect
he believes it And yet he has that
slightly cynical approach, call it realistic
maybe, that tells him vigilance is the key
to success, and that success itself has
no set formula.
"Change. Man, you have got to do it,"
he said referring to the constant nature
of the business. ;
He pointed out how Spirit Mountain
engaged in the extremely un-Vegas
practice of investing in nickel slot ma
chines, years ago considered an inside
joke by the industry. And now, of
course, nickel machines are a reliable
source of revenue for many Indian casi
nos, and Vegas has become replete with
them ("They're all over the place now").
Deviations such as Chris Isaak back in
July of 1999 have also helped. Huff said
he'd never seen so many new faces
before.
LIKE AN ATHLETE, EXECUTIVE SECRETARY COVERS ALL THE BASES
Karen "The Glue" Realander keeps everything balanced, together.
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KAR6N REALANDR
People are likely to wonder how
some of the casino's execu
tives are able to balance out
the infinite meetings, duties
and at the same time maintain an
open line of communication between
one another. The answer is simple,
Karen Realander-AKA "The Glue."
"No matter what you ask her to do,"
Huff said. "She does it. She makes
everything happen."
Realander laughed when I told her
about Huff's analogy. The nickname she
has for herself is "the mole," not in any
way related to the ABC reality show in
volving a traitor amidst a trusting group,
but more as a person who pops up pe
riodically in all phases of the casino.
The official title for Realander is Ex
ecutive Secretary. If secretary conjures
up images of a young woman, bright
eyed and taking calls and appointments
from behind a desk, then in most re
gards that is a fairly concise descrip
tion. But by no means is Realander desk
bound, and I can personally attest to
that because a whole two weeks were
consumed in the act of phone tag just
to secure an interview with her.
"As secretary, most of what I do in
volves working with the whole execu
tive team," she said. "That includes co
ordinating meetings, keeping tabs on
departmental managers, and facilitat
ing communication."
Realander came to Oregon in 1995,
from the state known for snow, lingo
and a wrestler-tumed-govemor Min
nesota. Yes, like Huff, she was also a
part of the inaugural casino crew, though
in Human Resources and Payroll.
She is 31 years old and lives in
McMinnville with her husband Jeff. She
has one daughter, Megan, only three
years old and two stepsons.
Work she defines as "challenging,
some days," citing communication as the
ever present "big issue." Realander
feels lucky to have witnessed the evolu
tion of Spirit Mountain during its six years
of existence, acknowledging that only
the facilities have fluctuated and not the
dynamics.
Politics here are fairly tame compared
to her previous casino experience, Mys
tic Lake where before moving to Oregon
she worked for the Payroll Department.
Mystic Lake is the casino of the Little Six
Tribe.
Realander likes her situation, having
no plans to go anywhere else anytime
soon. Her "pretty nice schedule" allows
more time to the old family tradition of
scrapbook making, the only other hobby
she engages in aside from spending time
with the kids.
Though now six years an Oregonian,
Realander does wonder how much time
will pass before she begins to feel like
one. That Minnesota lifestyle and Scan
dinavian blood run deep in her veins.
She admitted to having an accent em
barrassingly similar to that parlayed into
immortality by Frances McDormand in
the dark comedy Fargo.
"Yeah, I talked like that," she said. "I
used to say 'Or-uh-gone.' And I used to
say'UfDaah'."
A true Midwesterner, Realander still
wonders when her next adventure in
icefishing will occur, as much a part of a
Minnesota upbringing as puddle-splashing
is to Oregonians. Probably not until
she goes back.
"I'm only finally beginning to realize
just how much more laid back Orego
nians are," she said.