Fiduciary Responsbility: How Steve Potts Cut Himself In On the Kelman Family Gambling Empire… And Cut Me Out
By Michael Kelman Portney
I. Introduction: When the Lawyer Crosses the Line
Every crooked dynasty has its fixer. The mafia had consigliere, corporations have “compliance officers,” and in Great Falls, Montana, the Kelman family had Steve Potts. He was supposed to be a lawyer. Supposed to be an officer of the court. Supposed to guard the estate of a client.
Instead, he ended up owning pieces of the family’s casino empire himself.
If you want to understand why MisinformationSucks.com exists, this is Exhibit A. The attorney who should have been protecting assets became a direct beneficiary of them. The paper trail isn’t abstract. It’s right there in the Great Falls Tribune, in Montana liquor license applications, and in decades of legal disputes.
This is the story of how Steve Potts went from fiduciary to casino co-owner, and why that betrayal matters not just for my family’s legacy but for anyone who’s ever trusted a lawyer to represent them in good faith.
II. The Original Empire: Zollie and Evelyn
The Kelman story starts with my grandfather Zollie Kelman, who arrived in Montana in the 1940s with a few coin-operated machines and a nose for opportunity. By the 1970s, he was the gambling kingpin of Great Falls.
American Music Company and World Wide Press weren’t just local businesses — they were the backbone of Montana’s gray-market gaming industry. Slot-like machines disguised as keno, poker, or “amusement devices” filled taverns from Black Eagle to Billings.
When Montana legalized bingo and certain games in the 1970s, Zollie was already ready. He had the machines, the lobbying muscle, and the willingness to cut deals. When regulators got too close, he cut checks to county attorneys or, as later reporting revealed, leaned on political opponents with blackmail.
The public image? A “private businessman,” a family man, a hard worker. The reality? Raids, fines, felony indictments whittled down to misdemeanors, and a 1988 plea deal that forced him — on paper — to “retire.”
But as Tribune clippings across the 1990s show, Zollie never really retired. He just shifted the spotlight.
And that’s where his wife Evelyn and children — Abby, Natalee, and David — step in.
III. The Lawyer Arrives
Enter Steve Potts. By the late 1980s and 1990s, Potts was the Kelman family’s attorney of record. He defended Zollie when regulators called him a mobster. He handled Evelyn’s property and lawsuit disputes. He was listed again and again as the counsel of record in fights over zoning, liquor licenses, or unpaid rent.
Potts was everywhere the family needed him.
For decades, that was his role: the legal fixer who kept the family empire insulated from exposure. When Evelyn sued May Technical College for back rent in the 1990s, Potts was there. When Evelyn pursued judgments to seize computers containing teachers’ lesson plans and confidential data, Potts filed the motions. When zoning fights erupted over Evelyn’s attempt to open another casino in 2002, Potts was the lawyer who stood up at City Council to argue her case.
In other words, Potts wasn’t a stranger. He was embedded. He was supposed to be the one keeping the family honest.
IV. Fiduciary Duty 101
To understand how bad this gets, you have to understand the principle of fiduciary duty.
When an attorney represents a client, especially in matters involving estates, trusts, or ongoing family businesses, he owes them the highest duty of loyalty. That means:
No self-dealing.
No conflicts of interest.
No slipping from “representing” to “profiting.”
A fiduciary is supposed to protect the beneficiary, not position himself to inherit the assets.
It’s black-letter law. Every lawyer knows it. And it’s exactly what Steve Potts ended up doing.
V. Evelyn and the Casinos
Throughout the 1990s and early 2000s, Evelyn Kelman appeared again and again as the paper owner of casinos: Buffalo Nickel, Nickel Nats, Plum Crazy, Bobo’s. She was the “matriarch,” but also an active litigant, filing suits and applications to keep licenses alive.
She wasn’t passive. She was running point for the empire after Zollie’s supposed exit. And Potts was her lawyer.
But something else was happening too: as David racked up arrests, misdemeanor convictions, and eventually a federal indictment, he became a liability. Abby took the role of “company president,” Natalee faded into the background, and Evelyn remained the public face.
Who was always standing at her side? Potts.
VI. 2002: Zoning Fights
In December 2002, the Tribune ran a story: Evelyn had bought a lot on Central Avenue West, intending to open another casino. The neighborhood protested. Zoning loopholes became a controversy. And who was Evelyn’s attorney of record in that dispute?
Steve Potts.
He was no longer just the family’s occasional lawyer. He was their go-to operator for expansion — even when that expansion was politically unpopular.
VII. 2007–2008: The Handoff
Here’s where the paper trail becomes undeniable.
November 2007: A Tribune legal notice lists David and Evelyn Kelman as shareholders in Lucky Charm Casino. This is months after Zollie’s death. David, despite his record, is still on paper.
August 2008: Another notice appears. This time, the application for Lucky Charm Casino lists Abby Portney and Steven T. Potts as the new shareholders applying for the liquor license.
There it is: the lawyer who had represented the estate for decades is now co-owner of the casino.
From fiduciary to partner. From attorney to beneficiary.
That’s the betrayal.
VIII. The Buffalo Nickel Problem
It doesn’t stop there. The Buffalo Nickel Casino, one of the Kelman family’s cornerstone properties, was once owned outright by Evelyn. Later, Potts acquired it.
Think about that: the same man who represented Evelyn, who was fiduciary to the estate, who defended the family’s ownership structures, ends up owning one of the family’s assets himself.
If you were writing a casebook example of fiduciary breach, you couldn’t script it better.
IX. The Pattern: How They All Played the Game
It’s tempting to look at Potts as the one bad apple. But the reality is that this fits the Kelman family’s playbook perfectly:
1970s: Zollie and Evelyn donate to County Attorneys, blackmail political opponents, and keep licenses alive with favors.
1980s: Zollie pleads guilty, “retires,” but keeps running things behind the scenes. Evelyn fronts ownership.
1990s: David becomes the “manager” on paper, racks up criminal records, but the businesses keep running. Evelyn sues and expands with Potts as her lawyer.
2000s: Abby and Potts emerge as the new front.
2013: Natalee dies and Potts fails to submit her will to the court, denying my rightful claim to a portion of Nat’s AMC shates
Every decade, the names change. The tactics don’t. The family keeps the assets alive through paper transfers, legal fictions, and political pressure.
The tragedy is that Potts — the one person who should have been ethically bound to resist this — crossed the line and joined them.
X. Why This Matters Beyond One Family
You might be asking: why should anyone outside of Great Falls care about a small-time casino lawyer gone rogue?
Because this is how systems rot everywhere.
It doesn’t matter if it’s a Wall Street bank, a tech company, or a family gambling empire in Montana. The mechanics are the same:
Create legal fictions.
Use lawyers to launder them.
When no one’s looking, let the lawyer become the owner.
If you think your estate lawyer, your trustee, or your “family friend” is immune from this temptation, think again.
And if regulators in Montana allowed this, you can be sure the same patterns exist in a hundred other jurisdictions.
XI. What Comes Next: FOIA, Discovery, and Exposure
The story isn’t over. There are FBI files — we know from 1990s Tribune reporting that federal investigators were circling. A FOIA request to the FBI can and should bring those case files into the public record.
Discovery in ongoing litigation can also surface Potts’s conflicts. His dual role as fiduciary and co-owner is a matter of public record. But depositions and subpoenas can connect the dots further: correspondence, billing records, estate documents.
And here on MisinformationSucks.com, we’ll keep publishing the receipts.
XII. Conclusion: Betrayal as the Legacy
My grandfather built an empire on loopholes, intimidation, and political leverage. My grandmother fronted it. My uncle disgraced it. My mother presided over it.
And the family lawyer, Steve Potts, ended up owning it.
That’s not just a story about one family. That’s a parable about what happens when fiduciaries cross the line, when legal ethics collapse, and when courts and regulators look the other way.
It’s also why you’re reading this here instead of in some sanitized obituary or puff piece.
Because the real story isn’t that Zollie Kelman was a “private businessman” who loved Great Falls. The real story is that his empire corrupted the very lawyer who was supposed to protect it.
