I urge all who honestly want to be informed about this issue to read the  
following from 1992.  The article focuses on "warehousing" and the  subsequent 
devastating effects on Ocean Grove and Asbury Park when the  state stopped 
funding institutions in favor of "mainstreaming" their patients,  which meant 
towns 
like ours where many unethical opportunists made big bucks at  the expense of 
the poor and the residents.  The article is an in-depth  account of that 
awful episode during which AP suffered severely while the "white  bread" towns 
prospered.
 
 
Sorry if weird wingdings appear below but you can access the article here  
_Shore  Towns Dread Release of Mentally Ill - New York Times_ 
(http://query.nytimes.com/gst/fullpage.html?res=9E0CE7DF113BF931A25754C0A964958260&sec=health&spo
n=&pagewanted=print)   or email me  privately or tell me how to post some 
other way without the wingdings.  
 
New York Times,  July 12, 1992
 
Shore Towns Dread Release of Mentally Ill 
By JON NORDHEIMER, 
 
Amid complaints that their towns have become warehouses for the mentally ill, 
 residents of several communities along the Jersey Shore are worried about 
the  possible arrival of hundreds of men and women previously considered 
unprepared  for life outside of institutions.  
The plan is causing much anxiety in places like Ocean Grove, which has seen  
many of its aging bed-and-breakfast hotels and boarding houses converted into  
homes for thousands of mentally ill people who were removed from state 
hospitals  during the last two decades. Such residents now make up 10 percent 
of the 
city's  population. 'Mainstreaming' and the Reality  
"The state talks about 'mainstreaming' the mentally ill but the reality is  
these poor people are being put away and forgotten in 19th-century boarding  
houses used as the poorhouses of the 21st century," said Jennifer Boyd, a  
documentary film maker who is president of the Ocean Grove Homeowners  
Association. 
She is one of many who hope that the state will successfully  relocate 450 
patients scheduled for discharge next year and not dump them in  Monmouth and 
Ocean County beachfront towns.  
Boarding houses along the northern Jersey Shore became convenient places to  
house the mentally ill removed from institutions beginning in the 1970's. The  
structures, used only in summer, had lost economic viability as vacation  
patterns changed. And the buildings were already zoned for high-density use, so 
 
protracted fights to place state-licensed beds in more dispersed settings 
could  be avoided. Besides that, the communities did not have the political 
muscle 
or  economic vitality to fight back.  
The year-round residents of these beach towns say the state says it has no  
control over where a mental patient chooses to settle after discharge. But they 
 argue that in the past, that was all but decided by a little-known state 
agency  that has been dispensing millions of dollars in grants since 1981 to 
operators  who can turn tidy profits by converting old boarding houses into 
state-licensed  homes for the disabled or aged.  
After a series of fires in the late 1970's killed residents of boarding  
houses in Asbury Park and Bradley Beach, the state began to underwrite 
operators  
who needed money to qualify for licensing. Gary Anastasia, director of the  
Housing and Mortgage Finance Agency set up to handle the financing, said the  
state has made 147 loan commitments valued at $24.5 million, the "great  
majority" to boarding house operators in Monmouth, Ocean and Essex Counties.  
The program, Ms. Boyd of the Ocean Grove Homeowners Association said, has  
hurt prospering communities like hers, a historic mile-square beachfront resort 
 
that has 5,000 year-round residents. Since the mid-1980's, 470 former mental  
patients have moved into town. Asbury Park, a financially troubled city of  
18,000 directly north, has 700 licensed beds and is probably home to many more  
people who occupy unlicensed beds, local officials say.  
Ocean Grove, listed on the National Register of Historic Places, still has  
the look of a Victorian seaside resort and continues to draw tourists and  
beachgoers, just as it first attracted Methodists for summer camp meetings in  
the 
1860's. Turreted roofs, cornices and railed porches on two or three levels  
stand shoulder to shoulder for blocks inland from the ocean, a virtual wood  
museum. Fears for Local Economy  
The local homeowners association, which was organized in the 1970's to fight  
for historic preservation, charges that the state is undermining the 
community's  growing tourist economy and its irreplaceable architectural 
heritage by  
subsidizing operators who convert buildings into threadbare shelters for the  
mentally ill, discouraging individuals who are interested in restorations for  
personal use or investment.  
Two such residents are Polly and Alan Hewson, former New Yorkers who say they 
 fell in love with Ocean Grove at first sight in 1989 and bought a  
gingerbread-trimmed cottage for $140,000 a block from the beach.  
"What we didn't realize because of the summer crowds was that there were two  
boarding houses on our street whose only clients were mental patients," said 
Mr.  Hewson, a 39-year-old computer arts designer.  
"People wouldn't mind one or two such places in Ocean Grove, but the people  
who own the buildings have discovered a real opportunity in Federal funds to  
fill their rooms year-round," said Mrs. Hewson, an actress. "They're turning  
this community into a mental ward."  
Now that the state will purge an additional 450 patients and shut down one of 
 the state's four adult psychiatric hospitals by 1997, people in shore towns 
like  Ocean Grove dread that they will have to shoulder the brunt of the 
policy. Alan  G. Kaufman, director of the state division of Mental Health and 
Hospitals, said  the alarm is misplaced.  
While conceding that shore communities were hit hard in the past when  
patients were released from state mental hospitals, he said the new round of  
releases was designed to avoid past mistakes by more carefully distributing the 
 
patients to their hometowns around the state and more closely managing their  
lives once they leave the hospitals.  
"This time we are going to do it right," Mr. Kaufman said. "Each one of the  
450 patients who will be discharged by the end of 1993 will have a case 
manager  and a built-in plan for community-based care and a residential 
program."  
Critics of the new plan scoff at claims that New Jersey, during a time of  
deep budget cuts, will come up with the money to sustain long-term suitable  
treatment and housing for discharged patients in the communities where they  
eventually settle.  
"What the state has done is warehouse the mentally ill in boarding houses and 
 place the burden on the local community to service them," said Jerena B. 
Rezvan,  director of the special services bureau of Asbury Park. "Saving money 
is 
the  bottom line in this and anyone who says it isn't is full of beans."  
Emptying asylums sounds good, she said, but New Jersey's investment in  
community-based mental health services to assist discharged patients was the  
lowest among the Northeastern states for years. In 1990, the average per-capita 
 
expenditure in the Northeast for such care was $19.27 a year. In New Jersey it  
was $9.66.  
It costs the state $70,000 to $80,000 a year to care for a patient at one of  
the four adult psychiatric hospitals now equipped to treat 2,400 patients, 
all  of whom are involuntarily committed after exhibiting some danger to 
themselves  or others.  
When a patient is discharged, the financial burden passes to the Federal  
government, which pays most of the $5,500 to $6,874 annually in Supplemental  
Security Income or other disability payments that a chronically ill person  
living alone in New Jersey is eligible to receive. Reducing the Population  
In 1975, when the population of New Jersey was 7.3 million, 9,100 mentally  
ill people lived in state and county institutions. The four state adult  
psychiatric hospitals now have a daily population of 3,400. The goal is to 
bring  
that number to 1,800 by 1997. The population would be housed in three 
hospitals, 
 each with 600 beds. Since 65 percent of the patients are discharged within 
two  months, it is expected that the caseload would be manageable, supplemented 
by  new local centers to handle acute short-term cases.  
To eliminate one of the present four state psychiatric hospitals, the state  
will close Marlboro in Monmouth County or Greystone Park in Morris County 
within  five years. There is speculation that the state has already earmarked 
Marlboro  for closing because Greystone is the only state adult psychiatric 
hospital in  northern New Jersey, where most of the state population resides. 
The 
two other  hospitals are in Trenton and south of Camden.  
Few of those scheduled for release can count on families to care for them,  
because relationships have been severed by time or the ravages of illness,  
hospital social workers say. Nearly all are poor.  
At the old Carlton Hotel, now the Carlton Residential Health Care Center, a  
weather-stained seven-story structure on the boulevard facing the beach in  
Asbury Park, the warehousing is palpable.  
"We try not to take young people because they tend to make trouble," said  
Dorothy Lutz, the owner, as she surveyed a second-floor lounge filled with men  
and women, most older than 50, seated on misshapen pieces of furniture 
arranged  in rows before a steadily droning television set. Food smells clotted 
the 
air.  
Here was Louie, "who has no mind of his own," Mrs. Lutz said, introducing a  
man who grinned wildly at her description. And blank-eyed Carmine, whose brain 
 was lacerated in an auto accident, and Rich, who has a nasty habit of 
digging  through the garbage. By the window was Jacob, a problem case because 
he was 
 always out on the street cadging money for drinks and smokes.  
"Jacob needs to be in a place where they lock the doors and he can't get  
out," Mrs. Lutz said wearily. "But there is no place like that any more." 
Plenty  
of Red Cards  
In the old lobby, behind a time-worn desk, was a battered metal cabinet  
taller than a man. Inside were shelves of plastic trays containing medication  
for 
each of the 163 residents. The trays of residents who have been forced to  
return to Marlboro for stabilization are marked by red cards. There are plenty  
of red cards.  
The state plans to spend $13 million in reimbursed Medicaid payments from the 
 Federal Government to create community-based services operated by local  
nonprofit agencies to handle the release of the 450 patients next year.  
But it comes too late for the residents of the Carlton and the thousands of  
others in similar accommodations around the state.  
In future years, the costs of maintaining the community services are expected 
 to come from savings brought about by decline in the permanent hospital  
population and the consolidation of staffs and programs.  
Yet late last month, in the search for ways to balance the state budget, the  
Legislature cut $5 million from the mental health appropriation, citing the  
savings expected from the discharge of the 550, a move that stunned mental  
health advocates already guarded about promises that fully financed  
community-based care will become a reality. 






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