$280 million pot packs lots of drawing power

Lottery: Half-hour waits after drives from out of state don't deter eager Powerball players.

August 25, 2001|By Jackie Powder | Jackie Powder,SUN STAFF

Nobody wants a Powerball winner in tonight's $280 million drawing more than Michael Cho.

For the past week, the 21-year-old Johns Hopkins University senior has been a Powerball prisoner, virtually trapped selling lottery tickets at his family's Washington liquor store, just over the Maryland state line.

"I'm like a robot," he said. "This has been nonstop. I've been working 10 hours a day."

Retailers in the 21 states where the lottery is played have been inundated with people chasing the Powerball jackpot, the third-highest in U.S. lottery history. Hoping to cash out of life's financial worries, millions have willingly succumbed to Powerball hysteria, especially since no winner emerged in Wednesday night's drawing.

They're driving hours and crossing state lines to get to the nearest ticket outlet, and waiting in long lines once they're there.

Gamblers from Las Vegas are traveling across Hoover Dam to an Arizona cafe. Indiana residents overran a Michigan discount tobacco store, and Tennessee factory workers collected more than $20,000 to buy nearly a truckload of tickets in Kentucky.

A half-mile from Silver Spring, at the Cork 'N Bottle on Georgia Avenue, Cho spent yesterday morning at the keyboard of a humming Powerball ticket machine. By the time the store opened at 9 a.m., a line had formed. It would grow longer as the day went on, with fortune-seekers flocking from neighboring states where Powerball tickets aren't sold.

"My fingers are stiff. I don't eat. I don't drink," said Cho, a pre-med student who's helping at the store during the Powerball crunch. Despite his fatigue, Cho sent each Powerball customer off with a cheery "Good luck."

And they'll need it. Odds of capturing the jackpot have been estimated at one in 80 million.

The highest Powerball jackpot was $295.7 million in 1998. The record for a lottery in the United States is the $363 million Big Game jackpot won last year by two players in Illinois and Michigan

The race to riches became unpleasant in Greenwich, Conn., where officials in the affluent town suspended ticket sales yesterday because ticket-buyers from New York clogged streets and stores.

No such action was necessary at the Cork 'N Bottle, where everyone in the Powerball line- including Maryland, Virginia and Pennsylvania residents- was on best behavior.

A big part of the civility was due to the owner, Hank Cho. An efficient man, Mike's father kept a careful watch on the door, letting 10 to 20 people in at a time.

"It's orderly, as you can see," he said, ushering the next group in.

People passed the half-hour wait chatting, reading, and filling out lottery cards.

Steven White of Olney said he's usually not a lottery-playing type.

"I'm just not that motivated until it gets to this level," said White, who works for Continental Airlines at Baltimore-Washington International Airport.

Mickey Byrd plays every week.

"It's fun," said the 52-year-old Rockville woman, who bought $10 worth of Powerball tickets. She keeps a "mental list" of how she would spend her winnings.

"I'd change my phone number to unlisted, get a lawyer and a financial planner, then get on a plane to Bermuda and figure out how to spend it," she said.

"I'd also like to take care of everybody in my family," she added.

Across the nation, people chased the Powerball prize. Workers at a Tennessee factory pooled $24,000 to buy tickets that took lottery machines an hour to print.

"We see a lot of big plays, but that was an exaggerated play," said Arun Mahtani, owner of Lucky Lotto in Franklin, Ky., near Tennessee. Relatives in Spain, England, India, Hong Kong and the Philippines had called for tickets.

Las Vegas residents carpooled to Rose's Den, an Arizona roadhouse that sells Powerball tickets and homemade meatloaf.

Back at the Cork 'N Bottle, Jimmy Bassford of Silver Spring wasn't sure how he would spend his money if he got lucky. But he got an idea while in line.

"There goes an Austin-Healey 3000," the technical consultant said as car went by. "I wouldn't mind having one of those."

Inside, spirits were high.

"Should we buy our champagne now or later?" asked Naomi Merrifield, getting a big laugh from fellow ticket buyers. She and her husband, Julius, drove two hours from Fredericksburg, Va., to take their chances.

"Good luck, everybody," Naomi wished the other hopefuls as she left the store.

The Associated Press contributed to this article.

Baltimore Sun Articles
|
|
|
Please note the green-lined linked article text has been applied commercially without any involvement from our newsroom editors, reporters or any other editorial staff.