Years later, NIMBY fears over Glen Cove mental health facility prove untrue
Monte Nido's residential treatment center in Glen Cove. Credit: Newsday/Randi F. Marshall
Five years ago, the residents of Glen Cove were embroiled in a fight against a land-use proposal they said would permanently harm their community. As some put it, the seemingly horrific idea would "substantially and negatively affect the area" and "disrupt the character of the neighborhood."
The plan: To establish a 14-bed residence for those with eating disorders at 1 St. Andrews Lane, a large, three-story Colonial residence on 1.26 acres near the Nassau Country Club.
To listen to the angry residents in 2018, one would think Glen Cove would have become a traffic-filled, unhealthy mess if the plan, by a company called Monte Nido, was approved. Children wouldn't be able to play in their yards or in the street because they'd be bothered by residents or staff coming in and out of the house. Constant traffic would block residential streets. Neighbors would only see the eyesores of a paved parking lot crammed with large vehicles, instead of manicured lawns and landscaping.
Their homes and their lives, they said, would never be the same.
Then-Mayor Tim Tenke and the City Council took up their cause, rejecting Monte Nido's proposal and spending months — and tens of thousands of dollars — on a legal battle, which dragged on through the summer and into the fall. Luckily, New York won that fight, when the courts upheld the Padavan law, which exempts group homes from municipal zoning restrictions. The home opened in May 2019.
So, has the neighborhood been irrevocably ruined? Has Monte Nido forever changed the character of Glen Cove?
One recent morning, two cars were visible in the 1 St. Andrews Lane driveway. The house, like so many in the community, was well cared for — and quiet. For hours, the only area activity came from a local neighbor on his daily run, a few people walking down the street, the occasional train at the nearby station. As for traffic? There was none. Glen Cove Mayor Pamela Panzenbeck said there've been no major complaints. And Dani Small, Monte Nido's regional director of clinical operations for New York, said the neighbors now recognize the good the home does.
"I understand the trepidation of having a new mental health facility open in their backyard," Small said. "But with time and experience, they realize those concerns are unwarranted. As far as neighbors go, we're a pretty good neighbor to have."
Inside the house, the work goes on, as individuals of all genders share meals, therapy and time to get well. Glen Cove couldn't have known it in 2018, but the home has become even more important, as the stress and isolation of the COVID-19 pandemic exacerbated and intensified the need for eating-disorder treatment. That need hasn't diminished.
Monte Nido would like to add a second Long Island facility, Small said. When it does, perhaps that community can look to Glen Cove to learn what will happen — rather than fear what could happen.
But it's more than just Monte Nido. Over and over again, across Long Island, residents fill village, town or city meeting rooms, angrily objecting to whatever plan they see as apocalyptic — from new housing to downtown revitalization. But long after the fight, after the proposal comes to fruition, the outcry dissipates and life goes on. The fears, in most cases, never become reality.
And the only lives forever changed are those who benefit — the people who get the new housing or jobs or commutes — or those who have the chance to heal at 1 St. Andrews Lane.
Columnist Randi F. Marshall's opinions are her own.
Randi Marshall is a member of the Newsday editorial board.
