DRUG CLINIC DRAWS MORE FOES

Fresh Fight: County Supervisors Are Exasperated As Opposition Grows
To A Plan To Move A Methadone Facility.

In a public display of frustration, San Mateo County supervisors lashed out
Tuesday at residents and elected officials they dubbed as ``NIMBYs'' for
battling plans to relocate the county's only methadone clinic.

The Redwood City clinic, Professional Treatment Inc., is being forced out
of its spot to make way for high-tech offices.

Bowing to intense neighborhood pressure, supervisors rejected a plan to
move the clinic to unincorporated North Fair Oaks, delighting residents who
fought with faxes, petitions and protest signs. Two more sites are now
being considered -- an abandoned hospital in the hills above San Mateo and
a vacant courthouse in downtown Redwood City.

But already, each new proposal has attracted a new battle from people who
don't want the clinic near them. At Tuesday's meeting, another round of
neighborhood opposition was launched against both of the new proposed
sites, as North Fair Oaks residents planned a victory celebration.

``Let's not miss what's happening here,'' said a visibly shaken Supervisor
Mike Nevin. ``This NIMBYism, this Not-In-My-Back-Yard, this is humanity at
its worst.''

Referring to the methadone patients, Nevin said, ``These are human beings
- -- some 300 of them -- that need to be treated.''

If neither of the two newly proposed spots proves possible, county
supervisors have said, as a last resort, methadone treatment could be
folded into existing county health facilities.

Supervisor Mary Griffin added that although San Mateo County is mostly
affluent, drug addiction is not selective in its prey.

``This is an attempt not to throw people away,'' Griffin said. ``They are
the ones, thank God, who are seeking treatment. We all have the obligation
to help people who are willing to be helped.''

Professional Treatment Inc. has been dishing out tiny plastic cups of
methadone and providing counseling for former addicts from its Arguello
Street site for 28 years, but must leave by June 30. Caught between the
unforgiving real estate market and hostile neighborhoods, the county-funded
clinic is desperately seeking a place to move.

The problem is, nobody so far will have it.

Redwood City Council members announced Tuesday that the city's downtown
Marshall Street courthouse should not be an option, although former Mayor
Diane Howard, a nurse, said she knows the value of treatment. In a letter,
the council cited plans to demolish the courthouse and restore it as a
downtown park at some point.

This announcement brought a sharp response from a still steaming Supervisor
Nevin, who called Redwood City Mayor Ira Ruskin ``gutless'' after the
meeting. Nevin later called Ruskin and apologized ``profusely,'' a miffed
Ruskin said.

Residents in and around the old Crystal Springs Hospital site on Tower Road
also say they don't want former addicts roaming their streets and spacious
hillsides. And although many only learned of the meeting the night before,
they had prepared a bevy of arguments, including seismic instability, lack
of sidewalks and the ineffectiveness of methadone treatment in general.

``We're concerned about the economic impact,'' said Merry-Lee Musich, who
owns a nearby shopping center. ``What is going to happen to these people
when they're wandering around the neighborhood? Are they going to be
frightening children? Will we wind up with a homeless shelter?''

Denise Haas, whose daughter goes to a preschool on Tower Road, said the
clinic and its clients would threaten the students, who suffer from
physical and emotional disabilities.

``This goes beyond my comprehension,'' Haas said. ``We're going to put
these children in harm's way. My daughter has impaired judgment and she
will run into traffic.''

The methadone patients say they are the victims of stereotypes. High-tech
executives, hospital and construction workers, business owners, as well as
the unemployed and homeless, are among those served.

Patients stay an average of five minutes, mainly in the early morning on
their way to work. At the current site, six schools are in walking
distance, including two pre-schools.

And although loitering is prohibited, some clients stop outside for a brief
chat and a smoke. ``This place is a lifesaver,'' said Jose Flood, a Redwood
City trucker. ``We don't want to bother anyone, we just go in and out. I
don't steal, I don't rob, I live just like the next guy -- from paycheck to
paycheck.''