Atlantic City has always felt to me like America ’s most misunderstood resort city . As a native New Yorker with a family that loves to gamble , I grew up coming here a few times a year, every year. Sometimes we booked months in advance, other times we decided we’d book our trip just the day before. “I’m going to AC this weekend,” I recall telling my friends at age 12. Obviously, I was too young to gamble—but even then, the spectacle was intoxicating. Long before I understood this city historically, I understood its seduction: the salt air mixing with perfume and cigarette smoke, the boardwalk glowing at night, the hypnotic ringing of slot machines at 2 a.m., gamblers of all ages carrying cocktails, lucky charms, and superstitions.…