A transplant from the East Coast, Bob Rush settled into
the sandy rows of west
A few years back, though, Rush sensed a little trouble in
paradise as the quaint bungalows that once captivated him began housing men and
women struggling to kick drug and alcohol addictions.
The newcomers maintained odd hours. They smoked heavily,
used profanity and loitered "menacingly."
"All of a sudden, everywhere I turn, they're
everywhere," Rush said while walking along
Now politicians in
Saying the character of neighborhoods is at stake,
officials are seeking more control of drug-treatment and sober-living houses
they say have proliferated unchecked. Because various laws restrict oversight
of the homes, their exact numbers in various communities are unknown.
Some rehabilitation-home operators sympathize with
community concern. But, they argue, most treatment houses are quiet and
well-kept, their images tarnished by a few bad apples.
Nevertheless,
Several
But similar efforts have flagged repeatedly.
Many homeowners blame Proposition 36, which was approved
in 2000 and allows drug treatment instead of prison for some offenders, for the
growth of the rehab centers.
The number of drug-possession offenders in
"We're trading overcrowding in our prisons" for
overcrowding in neighborhoods, Rush said.
Many home operators say their clients come from out of
state, lured by the sun-and-sand image of
There's also a strong profit motive.
A beachfront house can lease for about $5,000 a month, but
patients pay hefty premiums for their care, often more than $20,000 for a
90-day stay.
Whatever the cause, the influx is raising hackles. In
recent months, six to eight complaints have come in every month to
Residents blame the homes and their occupants for noise,
loitering, trash and savaged property values.
"If your house is right next to one, good luck
selling your home," said resident Drew Wetherholt,
a landlord who says the rehab homes have made finding female tenants and
charging market-rate rents difficult.
At
Conversely, four of
Operators say they do their best to stay under the radar
and maintain rapport with neighbors. "We just try to have everybody keep
to themselves," said Kevin Sullivan, president of The Shores Treatment and
At Ocean Recovery on
While complaints can be quantified, there's one thing that
can't – the actual number of homes. The state lists 11 drug-treatment homes
licensed in
The discrepancy can be chalked up to state and federal
statutes that limit oversight of the homes.
State law says rehabilitation houses with six or fewer
residents are to be treated as regular homes, meaning cities can't control
where they locate. In Balboa, where two-story duplexes and three-story
triplexes are common, 10 to 30 residents may be squeezed onto a single lot.
Fair-housing laws classify recovering addicts as
handicapped, and so distinct regulations would in many cases be discriminatory.
"We don't know" how many treatment homes exist, Newport Beach City
Attorney Robin Clauson said. "We have no
idea."
State laws that allow a 300-foot buffer between certain
group homes don't apply to drug-treatment and sober-living houses. There are at
least six sober-living homes in a six-block stretch of
The story is the same elsewhere, as is the emerging
discontent.
Recovering addicts can find help in many forms, including
counseling, medication and outpatient therapy. Residential drug treatment
supplements those methods by immersing patients in society. Such
"therapeutic communities" typically reduce subsequent arrests among
patients by 40 percent or more, according to the National Institute on Drug
Abuse.
Locals acknowledge as much. But they wonder whether the
concentration of homes undermines the goal of acclimating drug offenders to
daily life. "You're basically creating institutions in the middle of a
residential area," Clauson said.
"We don't mind them sporadically throughout our
neighborhoods, but it's the overproliferation,"
resident Joe Reiss said.
Two bills proposed last year would have subjected the
locations of rehabilitation homes to greater scrutiny. One proposed law was
actively opposed by handicapped-rights groups, including a
The group said the legislation could result in limited
rehabilitation opportunities because of "local opposition that may be
based on unwarranted fears, derogatory stereotypes, or the belief that such
facilities simply do not belong."
Both bills died in the Senate Appropriations Committee.
In the latest endeavor, state Sen. Tom Harman,
"It's just an area that frankly is calling out for
legislative reform," Harman said.
Expecting opposition, officials have broached the idea of
a ballot initiative if state legislation again hits roadblocks.
Money will be key to successful
lobbying, and officials say cooperation among cities is essential. "We as
cities need to band together," said Councilman Steve Rosansky,
who represents west
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