Group homes surging as inmates exit prison

BOISE – Drug-felon group homes are landing in Idaho neighborhoods at an increasing rate and the U.S. Supreme Court says residents can’t stop them.

There are at least 104 “transition homes” across the state now, compared with 40 a year ago, according to Department of Correction figures.

Near Boise and Nampa, there are 65, up from 27 in 2006. Eastern Idaho has at least 15, up from just three. Coeur d’Alene has 13, compared with four last year. Twin Falls has seven and Lewiston four, the agency said.

Those running the homes contend they help ex-offenders streaming out of prison. Dozens more are planned, they say.

Still, some single-family neighborhoods feel abandoned by state and federal laws that don’t give them a voice in where group homes can go. A meeting this week in Nampa attracted 150 mostly angry people concerned about a home operated by Dennis Mansfield, a longtime Christian activist whose for-profit treatment company has started 10 facilities in southwestern Idaho in six months.

The recent housing slump in Idaho has created a glut of homes ideal for ex-convicts and available for lease, say those who run them.

In Addy Haas’ west Boise neighborhood, 12 men convicted of drug crimes but now on parole or probation have moved into a split-level home across the street. Evening traffic increases as the men arrive home from work, and Haas said she’s upset Mansfield never told neighbors about his plans before they started moving in.

“He’s sneaking them into the community,” she said. “I’m on edge.”

Across Idaho, drug violations rose more than 9 percent in 2006, the fourth increase in five years, the Idaho State Police said. The lion’s share of convictions are related to highly addictive methamphetamine.

The number of convicts released on parole is expected to rise more than 5 percent annually, from 13,281 supervised offenders this year.

When they exit prison, more are turning to transitional homes that house up to 12 people for six months to a year, charge rent, provide a treatment regime, and may require religious worship as a condition of residence.

“In the past couple of years, there has been a good influx of them,” said Kevin Kempf, Department of Correction’s head of parole and probation. Kempf acknowledges his agency is under pressure from residents unhappy with the phenomenon.

Still, he doesn’t regulate the homes; in fact, nobody does in Idaho.

Mansfield says that a decade ago, he might have joined the fight against the homes.

Today, it is his 21-employee New Hope Community Treatment company that’s opening them, including one in his own neighborhood. His motivation, Mansfield said, was his son’s heroin addiction.

“Until you have the poison of drug addiction come into your family, it’s really easy to be theoretical,” he said.

People don’t have the right to choose their neighbors, he said, pointing to a 12-year-old U.S. Supreme Court decision in a Washington state lawsuit. Justices found that a Federal Fair Housing Act occupancy exemption governed only how many people can live in a house, not the character of its tenants.

“You can’t deny them housing,” said Norm Holm, the Nampa city planner.

So far, Mansfield’s 10 homes in Nampa and Boise – three for women, seven for men – accommodate 120 people. No sex offenders are allowed. Each resident pays $400 monthly rent, attends religious instruction and takes regular urine tests.

U.S. Sen. Mike Crapo, R-Idaho, has organized a meeting on the issue with Boise Mayor Dave Bieter in December.

And Friday, lawmakers from southwestern Idaho, including state Sen. Curt McKenzie, R-Nampa, met with prison director Brent Reinke. McKenzie wants to learn more ahead of the 2008 Legislature, in case something can be done.

“There’s really a balance between providing a stable environment for offenders and, on the other hand, having people feel safe and comfortable in their homes,” McKenzie said.

Those who run other transition homes say outraged neighbors forget that decades of strict drug laws mean more offenders have been locked up.

When they get out, it’s better they land where they can get regular drug tests, services and a safe place to sleep that’s far from where they had been using drugs or alcohol, said Melanie Curtis, executive director of Boise-based Supportive Housing and Innovative Partnerships.