Atlantic City Weekly

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Augie Renna with wife Diana and daughter Rachel.

A respected, Bible-reading maverick, MGM Mirage's senior vice president of eastern operations Augie Renna spoke with us from his Atlantic County offices where, until recently, his company laid plans for a mega-casino.

You're originally from northern New Jersey.

West Orange, where my family owned a bar/restaurant named Augie's. My grandfather served Thomas Edison, whose factories ... were half a mile away. Edison would walk to the bar, have a couple drinks, and pay by check. The bar always was a mixture of all races, all walks of life, and people loved to come in after work. When my father passed away they named a street after him -- Renna Boulevard.

What brought you to Atlantic City?

After college, I became a teacher and coach. Ten years later, I was 31 and making only $18,000 a year. Atlantic City was new -- this was 28 years ago -- and in gaming they would train you. I attended a 12-week school to become a dealer. For money during training, I also was a busboy at Bally's Park Place.

How did you move from dealer to management?

One day, someone came up to me on [the graveyard] shift and said, "We'd like you to apply for the job in Human Resources." I said, "Who are you, and why me?" He said, "We like your work ethic, you know all the dealers, and you just seem to have something going for yourself."

Where does the MGM Mirage casino project stand?

We were making serious progress, but now the project is indefinitely postponed. The development team's last day [was Oct. 31]. Half the reason I joined MGM in 1995 was the promise that they'd develop in Atlantic City. That meant I could finish where I got my start, in my home state, where I've always been and never left, and at the top of my game. The news broke my heart, because this was my dream.

Does faith help?

Well, I am very religious. I go to Mainland Baptist Church in Galloway, and I read the bible every morning.

Is there a gap between the immediacy of casino life, and the transcendent life of religion?

Yes, there's a difference. [Laughter.] I always had religion in my life, and my parents were blessings. Back in West Orange, I'd teach schoolchildren, then coach, then help out at the bar, where everybody's cursing and smoking [all in good friendship, of course]. So I was always making the kind of transition you're asking about.

What's next for you?

We're in high gear when the economy's slow, marketing to all our existing properties. It's kind of like a baseball team. If it's 5-0, you try harder to get runs.