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Pity the poor Baltimore Sun, sinking into a sea of red ink. First it closed its foreign bureaus, then it cut its news staff and then it consolidated its national news, local news and business news into one thin section.

The Sun dropped its top syndicated columnists, its stock pages, some long-time editors and, then, last week it dropped its integrity. After almost four decades of leading the fight against legalized gambling The Sun came out for slots.

And, sadly, it did it for the money. While acknowledging in its Oct. 10 editorial that slots are "an unfair and regressive tax on the poor and working class … highly addictive … and the wrong way to finance government," The Sun nevertheless supported ballot Question 2, legalizing the devices. Why? Because the state needs the money.

But the state always needs the money. The state needed the money back in 1972 when The Sun vehemently opposed creation of the state lottery, and back in the 1980s when The Sun fought Keno and, again, just four years ago when The Sun condemned the Republican governor's slots plan. But today's Sun resembles a down-and-out player pumping his last five bucks into a slots machine mumbling, "Come on, come on, baby needs a new pair of shoes." How pitiful.

Legalized gambling in Maryland dates back to 1791. Lotteries helped finance public and private building projects such as canals, railroads and churches. An 1807 state lottery helped launch the University of Maryland. But these were more like Rotary Club raffles than full-time gaming. In fact, when Maryland's race tracks spun out of control in the 1920s, the state took over their supervision. But instead of the government ending race track corruption, the race tracks corrupted state government culminating in Gov. Marvin Mandel's 1977 conviction in a race track scam.

Slots became legal in four Southern Maryland counties during the 1940s. Soon Maryland had more slot machines (4,927) than any state in the nation, including Nevada. Route 301 in Charles County became a big-time night club district drawing gamblers from far and wide. One old timer recalls, "at night you'd be coming down the road and you'd come out of the country, total darkness, into five miles of neon signs and flashing lights when you hit Waldorf. All those fancy moving electric signs attracted your attention and distracted the driver … at night it was lit up just like Vegas."

Soon the slots industry, grossing $62 million annually, became a mainstay of Southern Maryland's economy. The eminent Maryland historian, George H. Callcott writes, "The machines returned about 65 percent to the customers and paid about 15 percent to the casino proprietor, about 5 percent to the county in taxes, and about 15 percent to the anonymous owners. For local businesses, the 15 percent take was only the beginning, for profits on liquor and motels brought in an additional $10 million. For county residents, taxes on the slot machines almost eliminated property taxes and provided for some of the most generous public services in the state. Finally, the owners always appeared benevolent by giving frequently to churches and charities, most notably funds for a modern hospital for Charles County."

"It was hard for Annapolis politicians to become indignant, for they could guess the source of anonymous campaign contributions. One reporter, carefully studying the contributions from Anne Arundel County, estimated that more than $50,000 from gambling interests went towards the 1958 election of Governor Tawes."

So what ended this local nirvana that slots supporters now seek on a statewide basis? Most people believe that outside do-gooders imposed their anti-slots morality on slots-happy Southern Maryland. But that's not so.

Despite all the financial benefit, it was Southern Marylanders who turned against slots. True, thanks to slots the number of Charles County fire stations increased from one to seven, the public library reopened, new schools were built, the tax rate was reduced and slots license fees made up 20 percent of the county's total budget. But a growing number of locals became sick of "looking like Vegas." Yes, slots brought in public revenues but they also brought in the unsavory by-products of prostitution, organized crime and political corruption.

So, in 1962 it was a Charles County resident, Dave Hume, not some outside liberal, who ran for governor on a one-note, anti-slots crusade. Yes, he was most popular in the D.C. suburbs but he also came in second to Governor Tawes in Charles County by a mere 412 votes and in St. Mary's County by only 416 votes. Tawes got the message and the legislature outlawed slots a year later (with a five-year phase-out).

Now, like the Baltimore Sun, Maryland's voters are reversing themselves on slots. Talk about ironic; a tidal wave of Barack Obama supporters will flood polling places next Tuesday demanding "change" while casting a slots "yes" vote sending us back to the 1950s!

Even more ironic, Maryland voters are being asked to prop up Maryland's horse racing industry, a historically corrupting influence in Maryland politics, by legalizing slots, an even-greater corrupting influence. Just look at who's financing the pro-slots TV ads, the same political insiders who will be applying for these lucrative, state-granted slots licenses.

I don't mean to sound like Comptroller Peter Franchot, whose anti-slots hyperbole sometimes gets crazy. But, unfortunately, there's some truth in his alarms, the same alarms once forcefully issued by Joe Curran when he was Maryland's Attorney General, and once issued by The Baltimore Sun before it lost its way.

Blair Lee is CEO of the Lee Development Group in Silver Spring. His addess is blair@leedg.com