Rich Enclave Drops Plan for Shelter

Talk about a Christmas gift. On Dec. 24, word arrived that this wealthy enclave in the East Bay hills was ready to open its vacant former library as a temporary shelter for homeless families and the elderly.

But within two weeks, Orinda’s elected officials changed their minds and slammed the door on the shelter before it ever opened. An uproar, which included threats to recall the City Council, ensued among the town’s well-heeled citizens.

Now this community of 17,000, whose median household income tops $117,000 a year, finds itself fighting to remain compassionate while homeless advocates scramble to find scarce motel rooms for hundreds of homeless families and senior citizens.

“We were just thrilled when we got word from [City Manager] Bill Lindsay that the library was available,” said Gwen Watson of the Contra Costa County Interfaith Council, which had applied to operate the shelter in one of the most expensive places to live in the Bay Area. “We weren’t going to ask for any money; we already had enough. St. Vincent de Paul promised cots, and Loaves and Fishes promised food.”

Days earlier, the Orinda City Council had unanimously agreed to lease the city’s old, vacant library for the coldest and wettest months as a shelter for dozens of the county’s most vulnerable and needy citizens, she said.

The plan called for the 9,100-square-foot library to be open as a shelter from 5:30 p.m. to 6 a.m. through March, when the need is greatest among the county’s estimated 3,700 homeless.

But what Orinda officials and homeless advocates didn’t anticipate was the reaction the proposal triggered among some residents who opposed the idea of the needy living amid their million-dollar homes. The proposed shelter was near a preschool and a 150-unit senior housing complex in the heart of the community.

There is no known population of homeless in Orinda, according to officials and residents.

The depth of the opposition to the shelter plan became apparent when a quickly organized public hearing on the proposal drew a crowd of more than 400 to the city’s Masonic Hall. Watson, like other members of the Interfaith Council, said she was stunned by the anger displayed.

Residents criticized the City Council for negotiating the shelter lease with the Interfaith Council -- a consortium of 94 congregations in the county working on homeless issues -- in a secret, closed-door meeting.

Critics such as Ken Nielsen, who helped organize a group to recall the City Council for trying to set up the shelter, said they didn’t object to considering a homeless shelter proposal in Orinda next winter. But there simply wasn’t time this winter for the detailed planning, public hearings and careful oversight that would be needed to establish a shelter in the city, they argued.

City Manager Lindsay defended the council’s closed-door action, noting that leases are routinely negotiated in private. Once the council gave its OK, the decision was made public during the same council session, he said. He and Watson said no one spoke in opposition after the public announcement of the lease deal was made.

But within three days, thanks to a campaign of e-mail and fliers posted around the community, many citizens reacted.

“I don’t like the idea because of my concerns for the safety of my children,” said Ora Pressey, a mother of two who said she worried about homeless men and women panhandling, using drugs or stealing. “I believe we should help, but not by putting them here in this community.”

Homeless advocates and city officials sought in vain to point out that the shelter would cater to families with children -- usually headed by single women -- and the elderly. Clients would be carefully screened before being allowed to spend the night. During the day, the 75 or so who could be accommodated in the shelter would attend workshops or job hunt while the children attended school, officials said.

Shelter plan opponents “weren’t listening,” Watson said. “There was just a lot of shouting at us. The people who opposed this kept saying the homeless were panhandlers, prostitutes and drug addicts. They never could get to the point where they understood that these [shelter users] would be the working poor with children sleeping in their cars.”

Following the tumultuous gathering, it was clear to city leaders that the shelter proposal was politically dead. Lindsay then asked the Interfaith Council to withdraw its shelter application.

In the aftermath of the controversy, city elected officials have found themselves defending Orinda against charges that its residents are as cold-hearted as they are well-heeled.

“What has happened to the American spirit of helping each other instead of throwing poor families and the frail elderly into the gutter and stepping over them while they die?” asked Terry Marshall of Concord in a letter to the San Francisco Chronicle. “Orinda residents should be ashamed of themselves.” Concord, a city about 12 miles northeast of Orinda, has two homeless shelters, Marshall noted.

Orinda Mayor Joyce Hawkins disputed such accusations. “The council’s shelter approval was in response to an emergency need, and there was no time for detailed studies and several public hearings,” she said.

Hawkins said many Orinda residents have since offered their support for a homeless shelter in the city. Even during the Masonic Hall town meeting, some spoke in support of the shelter idea.

“People in Orinda really care, and people came out on all sides of this issue,” said Amy Worth, Orinda mayor pro tem. The council is committed, she added, to working with the other 18 cities and towns in the county to find shelter and support for those who cannot find housing themselves.

But it seems unlikely that Orinda will try anytime soon to open a homeless shelter within its city limits. The two-acre library site is slated to be sold and the building torn down. In its place, the city hopes to build about 30 units of low-cost senior housing, for which there is already a waiting list.

Meanwhile, the Interfaith Council is placing as many homeless families and elderly citizens as possible into local motels for two-day periods, subsidizing the cost from a fund that will be exhausted within 30 days, Watson said.