The neighbors had a lot to say, but it was too late, or would appear to be.
The story is complex and contentious, and the hard part is, there don’t appear to be any bad actors.
There’s an old church that has fallen on stressful times. There’s a woman who used drugs at one point but has been clean for years and wants to help others find that healthy path. There’s the Planning Commission and that element. There are the neighbors who just want a safe place to live and raise their family. And then there are folks who have invested in the area and don’t want to see their investment turn into zilch. It could be a Netflix drama.
The woman — we’ll leave the names out, but you can go find our stories on the subject if you want the particulars — has been clean (her phrasing) for eight years. She’s a nurse and has some experience in the world of rehab besides her own personal experience with it. She has a partner who has experience in how a rehab center can be operated.
Independent reporting for Pine Bluff & Jefferson County since 1879.
She has applied for a grant — money that came to the state out of an opioid settlement — and wants to use it to buy the old school building behind Trinity Episcopal Church and put in a 96-bed, 24-7 rehab facility.
She took the matter to the Planning Commission; people were notified; there was a meeting; and the commission members approved the woman’s request.
The problem there is the contention that not enough people were notified. That part gets a bit hairy because years ago, the commission required a wider net to be thrown when notifying neighbors of proposed changes in neighborhoods. Now, the net only includes adjacent property owners. As one planner said, some six people were told about the rehab proposal.
At a meeting last week, about 30 people showed up with most of them venting that they didn’t want the center in their neighborhood.
You may recall that the church had its own school for many years. When that closed, a charter school took up residence there for a handful of years. Now it too has closed and the building is vacant.
But even vacant buildings are expensive. There are all the systems that have to be kept going as well as insurance. When the charter school was renting the space, it paid the church $6,000 a month. Now, the church has no revenue coming in and $3,000 going out each month for insurance. That’s $9,000 a month going poof or some $110,000 a year, which is money that a church with a dwindling congregation would rather not be spending.
So the property was put up for sale, there’s a real estate agent and now there’s a potential buyer; someone who wants to do something good for the world.
The church’s pastor thought about the situation and likely prayed a few times on it, and did some googling and, by his determination, found that rehab centers can actually be a plus for a neighborhood, what with the extra lighting and added security.
But the neighbors aren’t buying any of it. Not the preacher’s thinking that it’s a good thing, and not the woman’s idea that she can run a rehab center that doesn’t detract from the neighborhood.
Some of the complaints come across as the familiar NIMBY or “not in my backyard.” But it’s hard to blame the residents of the neighborhood for worrying what the fallout will be. As one woman said, who is going to want to stay at her bed and breakfast with a drug rehab center across the street?
There was arguing, some raised voices and even some finger pointing at the meeting. One of the cooler heads was Council Member Bruce Lockett. He suggested that the city help the church find another buyer — this isn’t a done deal until and unless the woman gets the grant — and also help the woman find another location for her opioid and substance abuse treatment center.
That might work, but the Planning Commission has already approved the old school building for the center so there’s nothing compelling the woman or the church to change gears.
We also wonder where someone could put a rehab facility and not irritate the neighbors. People are people and the unknown is worrisome. Will some of those 96 people walk off from the center in mid-relapse and steal to support their habit or harm a child or do other mischief? Perhaps. And therein lies the worry.
If the finger points at any player in this story, it would be the Planning Commission, that and a City Council from years and years ago. A council in the 1990s changed the rules that only adjacent residents have to be notified. Before that happened, residents within 300 feet of the property being considered had to be notified. Under the old formula, a lot more than six people would have been notified, meaning the room would have been full when the Planning Commission considered this request. Maybe with that kind of input, the commission would not have approved the request. The commission also has to know that the current formula is not adequate and it should have asked the council for a revision long ago.
We also have to wonder about the applicant’s plan to treat 96 patients. That seems like a lot of troubled people to throw into a neighborhood. What if it had been 156 or 206? Would that have flown too? Wouldn’t 26 have been better until there was a track record for how this will all unfold?
Also, did the commissioners consider the exact nature of the application or just that such a use was OK by them. This was a UPOR (use permit on review) application, meaning the applicant was asking for permission to use the property for an operation that was not specifically listed in the area’s zoning designation. Because it was a UPOR, the commission has wide latitude to designate the particulars of how the property can be used. But apparently that didn’t happen.
As upset as the neighbors are, their cries for help may be too late. That’s because the Planning Commission has already approved the application, and as the city attorney’s office said there’s no appeal of an approval — that is, unless someone wanted to take the matter to circuit court.
Like a drama on Netflix, this may be continued.