It was easy to be awed in October 1993 as Tom Dingman led a small group on a walking tour of the lobby, dining areas and cofferdam-encased “riverboat” that was becoming the first hotel and casino built in combination in Mississippi.

Dingman, then in the middle of what was to be a 25-year career with Harrah’s, said something during that tour I’ve thought about time and again since.

As we watched workers installing wiring and carpet and affixing scrollwork to columns, someone asked Dingman, general manager, if he was confident the work would be finished in time for the opening, then just a couple of days away.

“Yes,” Dingman said, “but casinos are never finished. You have to keep investing in them. If you don’t, you won’t be in business very long.”

Charlie Mitchell is executive editor of The Vicksburg Post. Write to him at Box 821668, Vicksburg, MS 39182, or e-mail.

I don’t know about others in the group, but I had no familiarity with what he was talking about. In my thinking, a business was a business. When you built it, it was built. You might have to change light bulbs and restripe the parking lot every couple of years, but that’s about it. Not so for casinos, Dingman said, and went so far as to state a percentage of profits — I don’t remember the number — a casino must plow back into remodeling and upgrades every year.

The notion of continued investment was also a standard set by the Mississippi Gaming Commission, at least in the early years.

Well, as any observer of Vicksburg since before “the boats” knows, all four of the developments initially brought to fruition have been in near-constant redevelopment.

The Isle of Capri, now DiamondJacks, opened first, in August 1993, with a boat and a barge floated down from Iowa. Change has been a constant, with the addition of permanent and since expanded casino space, a hotel, new decor and a cycling of restaurant designs and themes.

Ameristar, the big dog in the market, cost more than any other casino when built. It opened in February 1994 and since then at least two to three times the initial investment has been spent on a hotel, parking garages, casino expansions and restaurant invention and reinvention.

Rainbow, initially a smaller-scale project, opened in July 1994 with an adjacent mini-theme park and strip-style hotel. The theme park didn’t last very long, but the casino and restaurants have been redesigned, upgraded, then redesigned and upgraded again and again as has the adjacent hotel.

Riverwalk has only been open 13 months, but has already had cosmetic work.

Harrah’s, now Horizon, kept up until five or six years ago. Though most distant from Interstate 20 — which is to casinos what coronary arteries are to the heart — and the only downtown casino, it is, in industry jargon, a “competitive property.”

No doubt that in law offices and boardrooms distant from little old Vicksburg, machinations were under way and decisions were being made of greater moment. But from a purely local perspective, Horizon fell behind in basic upkeep. Carpets became faded and torn. Dust got thick on draperies and valances alongside what was Vicksburg’s first escalator. Rust showed through unpainted metal surfaces.

No one knows what the future holds for what began as a top-notch operation in Vicksburg. The bigwigs might know, but they’re not talking.

What does seem clear is how well Tom Dingman knew his industry. If a development isn’t improved it should at least be maintained. When it isn’t, the owners have no one to blame except themselves for the failure that follows.