A lack of laws opens door for debate on halfway houses

Kris Hill

Saturday, Dec. 9, 2000 | 2:06 a.m.

Ken Stacey doesn't mind having a halfway house in his neighborhood. He doesn't mind maybe even two of the homes for recovering addicts.

But the possibility of having five or more for-profit halfway houses, each with nine residents, in his southeast Las Vegas neighborhood troubles him.

What also bothers Stacey is that halfway houses often open and operate indefinitely without licenses.

Because there is little governmental oversight -- other than standard business licenses -- halfway houses could open and proliferate in any neighborhood. There are no zoning laws specifying where or how many can operate, and lax enforcement leaves many operating without even a business license.

Peter Singleton, a rehabilitation program supervisor for the state Bureau of Alcohol and Drug Abuse, said there is no comprehensive list of halfway houses. That's because no one has been watching or regulating them.

When Stacey first noticed halfway houses opening in his neighborhood in May, he called the county's licensing bureau and health district. He wanted to know if the homes were licensed and was told they were not.

"How could you be running a business without a license?" Stacey said. Clark County provided him with a complaint form, which he promptly filled out.

At that time, there were two halfway houses within two blocks of his home. Since his call, one has gotten a business license. But now there are three halfway houses operating in his neighborhood -- including one on his street.

Although the three homes are under the same management, only one has a license. Licenses are being processed for the other two and are expected by Friday.

And applications have been put in for two more houses that will open in the neighborhood next month. All five are within a half-mile radius.

In addition, five licensed group homes for developmentally disabled adults and Alzheimer's patients are within the same radius.

Judy Nelson, daughter Lorri Ahln and son Phillip Ahln own the three halfway houses in Stacey's neighborhood. They also will have the two that will open next month.

The three own four other houses -- two rentals and two that are their personal homes. None of those are group homes.

Paying their way

Halfway house residents are drug addicts and alcoholics attempting to recover and live independently and soberly. Residents are expected to work to pay their rent. The houses in Stacey's neighborhood charge $75 to $100 per month.

A recovering addict is referred to halfway houses by treatment centers, nonprofit organizations such as churches or homeless shelters or organizations such as Alcoholics Anonymous.

A judge normally wouldn't tell an addict to go to a halfway house, but rather would tell him to go through treatment, Singleton said. Some residents have been to jail, but most have not, Singleton said.

Stacey is worried that the residents might invite other addicts for visits, and that over time the neighborhood environment would become bad, especially for children. He also worries about increased traffic.

The federal Fair Housing Act of 1968 prohibits any discrimination against halfway houses because it defines residents as handicapped. Local governments have been reluctant to zone or impose regulations on them because of the act.

The 1999 Nevada Legislature mandated regulations for what goes on inside the houses, but did not address where they may be located. The Bureau of Alcohol and Drug Abuse is still writing the rules, which are not expected to become law until fall, after public hearings.

Because no laws regulate locations, Stacey said he has run into "dead ends" in the seven months he has been complaining to the county.

Singleton acknowledged that the number of houses in Stacey's neighborhood is an issue.

"There needs to be a larger dialogue across agencies," Singleton said, adding that halfway houses do not have a universal definition, nor is there any communication among the various levels of government about whether they should be subjected to zoning.

The lack of communication about how to deal with neighbors' concerns without stigmatizing recovering addicts is a part of the problem, Singleton said.

Stacey said he has been told there is nothing that can be done on the local level. County politicians tell him the Fair Housing Act overrules their authority.

Stacey now is campaigning to make sure that halfway houses are licensed, run professionally and aren't a threat to his neighborhood. He has spent months writing letters and calling politicians and government officials.

Herrera concerned

County Commissioner Dario Herrera, who represents Stacey's neighborhood, says he is concerned about the issue.

"I share their (the residents') frustrations," Herrera said. "We're doing everything we can at the county level. I deeply care about that neighborhood."

He wants to protect the homeowners' rights, he said, and hopes that the county can begin working with the state to achieve some immediate goals, such as making sure the houses are properly licensed and meet building codes.

Herrera said he would like to see the County Commission gain some control over halfway houses and is pushing legislation to create that authority.

Stacey said he feels that no matter what the Fair Housing Act says, halfway houses should have to be zoned and that zoning ordinances should be specific about where they may be located and in what numbers.

County planners acknowledge that the Fair Housing Act restricts their involvement. The county has no authority over the houses, said Mario Bermudez, assistant manager of the planning division.

"We have to treat them like single-family homes," Bermudez said.

But experts point out that the clustering that has occurred defeats a key purpose of halfway houses: to prepare residents for re-entry into mainstream society.

Gary Fisher, director of the Center for the Application of Abuse Technologies at the University of Nevada, Reno, said halfway houses should be spread out.

"My concern is that (clustering the houses) starts to be an institutional setting," he said.

Having so many houses in one neighborhood doesn't help the addict work toward a sober lifestyle, Fisher said.

Number questioned

Tom Matthews, a clinical-addiction professional who owns Koala Houses Inc., a halfway house firm in Tampa, Fla., said, "I would question the need for so many houses in such close proximity."

Matthews runs seven halfway houses in three Florida counties. The properties provide rental units with tight restrictions, such as no drugs or alcohol, 12-step meeting attendance and curfews, Matthews said.

If his tenants don't pay rent, they are evicted, he said. He has found that is a good incentive to keep them sober while they work on getting back on their feet.

Lorri Ahln said she didn't intend to buy so many homes in one neighborhood. When a house on Hazelcrest Drive went up for sale two years ago, her family bought it and turned it into a halfway house.

"Being the compulsive people we are, it just snowballed," Ahln said.

She said she doesn't see anything wrong with having the houses near each other. As a recovering addict who has been sober for 13 years, Ahln said she just wants to give back by helping other addicts.

"There is such a need for the houses, it's incredible," Ahln said.