The APT Foundation is a non-profit organization that provides addiction services at five locations in Connecticut. But despite the services provided by the organization to opioid users, not all its locations carry the same reputation or have as positive an impact on the communities in which they operate as others. 

“The joke within the staff of the Foundation when I was working there was that Congress was like a death sentence,” said Aaron, a former employee of the APT Foundation’s Congress Avenue location in New Haven. Aaron is not his real name, as he wished to remain anonymous.

“You’d go there, and you’d be burnt out in a year,” he said. “Nobody stays there unless they’re broken.”

Founded in 1970, APT was one of the nation’s first providers of methadone for opioid use disorder. Methadone, itself a synthetic opioid, is considered the best line of pharmaceutical defense against opioid addiction. Methadone provides users with nowhere near as potent or inebriating a high, and metabolizes much slower than heroin, allowing users to function clearly without having to battle either the constant cravings or bitter withdrawal symptoms associated with opioids.

“It gave me a chance to live a life,” said Tim S., a patient at APT who preferred to keep his last name off-record. “It’s what you take from it; if you come here and you want a way to get off drugs, you can do it.”

Despite methadone’s utility in battling the opioid epidemic, APT’s Congress Ave clinic has come under fire from members of the community for a wide variety of reasons: Hill residents have derided the clinic for its proximity to John C. Daniels Elementary School, as well as expressed their belief that the clinic has attracted a trouble-making population, much of which originates from out of town, into their neighborhood. 

“That area is notorious,” said Leslie Radcliffe, an advisor to the Hill North Community Management Team, and Chair of the New Haven City Planning Commission.

In response to the Hill community’s longstanding complaints regarding APT’s operations in the neighborhood, the Foundation was working with the city to finalize a deal that would move the clinic to Long Wharf Drive. Those plans were put on hold “for the foreseeable future,” said New Haven Mayor Justin Elicker at a press conference last Tuesday, after the city’s Planning Commission voted no on APT’s requested site plan, special use permits, and permit for excess parking on July 23rd. As a result, despite the backlash it has received, the Congress Ave clinic will tentatively remain.

Inside Investigator submitted multiple requests for interviews, both through email and phone, to APT CEO Lynn Madden, but received no response. Inside Investigator also reached out to the City of New Haven with a list of questions, but did not receive any answers.

The APT Foundation began using the Congress Ave location to provide patients methadone in the early 2000s. APT also operates clinics in West Haven, North Haven, and Guilford, and has a patient intake center located at 1 Long Wharf in New Haven. 

While siting the location of a methadone clinic can be difficult, APT’s Congress Avenue location has been particularly contentious.

Radcliffe said that many of the methadone patients will use it to “take away the shakes,” but “find something else to get high.” The high number of users makes the area a natural target for drug dealers to set up shop.

“Because of the program, and I think they have knowledge of the program and how it works, the dealers are there,” said Radcliffe. “They’re around the corner in the alleys, but they’re also out in the front – in front of the package stores, and the restaurants.”

The crime in the area isn’t limited to drug dealing, either. In 2023, a man was shot and killed on Vernon Ave, right next to the clinic, though authorities noted they didn’t believe the people involved were clients. In 2017, another man was stabbed to death in front of the clinic after an argument between a patient’s ex and current boyfriends turned deadly.

Radcliffe noted that the neighborhood would still have problems without APT’s presence, but that it has no chance in fixing them until it’s removed.

“If APT were to shut down, that would not resolve the issue on Congress Avenue,” said Radcliffe. “There would still need to be work done, because they’re already entrenched, but it is the wound that can be treated, you know, it’s the source of the infection that can be amputated, and then the treatment around the surrounding area has a chance to bring healing.”

Miguel Pittman, a Hill North Community Management Team member, said that when APT first started to provide methadone services at Congress Ave, the Hill Development Corporation (HDC) was still alive and well, and served as somewhat of a “watchdog” over APT. Incorporated in 1987, HDC was best known for its work as a housing provider, purchasing neglected homes in the Hill neighborhood and putting them back on the market as affordable housing options. HDC went out of business around 2010.

“We had an agreement with them that they would have to have a police officer there at all times, so it started off somewhat contained,” said Pittman. “When the HDC went out of business, or out of existence, then they didn’t have a particular organization that they had to answer to, that would monitor what they were doing. And then just over the years, they started doing whatever.”

Pittman said that another thing that has changed with the clinic is its clientele. Pittman said he feels the clinic has gotten “overpopulated in terms of the clients that they serve.” 

“They started off, I would say, somewhat contained because the APT Foundation wasn’t really supplying the outskirts of other cities,” said Pittman. “When you look at the APT Foundation [now], not only does it cover New Haven, but also it covers some of the outer cities of New Haven that come to the APT Foundation for meds.” 

Aaron is a former APT employee who worked as a clinician at the Congress Ave location from 2014 to 2021. He cited his reasons for departure as “extreme burnout, COVID, and significant issues related to the administration.” 

Aaron said that there was a feeling among staff at the time that administrators would keep problem patients on, even at the expense of the staff. He said the clinic would not kick out patients even if they “would make scenes, or threaten, or fight, or even disrespect clinicians.” He said that this hesitation to kick people off “reinforce[d] the fact you could do whatever you wanted in the clinic.”

“Regardless of the behaviors of the patient, they would much rather have the patient come every day, even if they are a detriment to the overall clinical space, so that they would get paid,” said Aaron. “If you test positive every day, it’s harm reduction, so as long as you’re coming in everyday, it means something. We’d rather you come in every day using drugs, than not come in, because it means you’re alive, and it means the APT Foundation is getting paid.”

Aaron echoed Pittman’s sentiments, saying that “the majority” of patients come from outside New Haven. He believes the problems of the clinic are twofold; not only does its location render the clinic a hub of neighborhood criminality, but APT’s forgiving policies make it home to the state’s least forgivable patients. He said that the Foundation keeps patients on, even if they’re still testing positive for drugs, because the methadone may still be reducing their overall usage. 

“That argument on paper, it’s great, but the problem is there’s a facility in their hometown that is not harm reduction, it’s more a strict sort of traditional program where you have to go to a higher level of care if you do not start producing negative urines,” said Aaron. “That model has proven to be less effective in some ways, but far more effective long-term.”

Aaron said that he believes the clinic’s model naturally selects for the state’s most troublesome patients, to the chagrin of the clinic’s staff and its nearby community.

“So, the main concern with the Congress Ave population is that they are majority coming from other programs after being kicked out,” said Aaron. “And so even if there was a facility closer to their home, they were kicked off.”

“The joke is, when everything else fails, just go to the APT Foundation,” said Aaron. “They’ll take anybody. And that is something that we used to take pride in saying; ‘Yeah, we’ll take anybody because we want to see you succeed.’ But the bigger issue is, the most problematic patients are basically shoveled down to New Haven, even from as far away as New London, Enfield and Danbury.”

Aaron said that other programs in the state should be taking in patients from their area, and “not relying on New Haven to take the worst behaved, worst mental health population in the state.” Aaron shared his belief that, ultimately, APT’s dedication to maintaining the most volatile patients just encourages their behavior.

“In New Haven, they would take somebody who was causing a scene, have them cut the line, and medicate them to get them out of the facility,” said Aaron. “So, it’s just, it’s a reinforcement of bad behavior.” 

Aaron explained that patients who took benzodiazepines, anti-psychotic drugs such as Xanax or Valium, were at higher risk of overdose. He also said that patients in other clinics would typically be kicked out of their programs if they tested positive for illicit use of benzos, but at APT, such patients would oftentimes be provided benzo prescriptions and kept on their methadone treatment.

“A lot of people say anxiety is a big cause of the self-medication that people take on, and so a lot of people who had illicit benzo use will get prescribed by the APT Foundation a low dose of benzos,” said Aaron. “And by doing that, they’re allowed to use as many as they want, because their positive urines will say, ‘Oh, I have them prescribed,’ even though they’re taking far more than they’re supposed to.”

Aaron called it a “very scary balance” that could be “deadly,” and that he’s had patients who have died while using both. He said it was impossible to know if benzos play a deciding role in these patients’ deaths, but that they contributed to his burnout significantly.

“When that started happening, it was over for me,” said Aaron.

Aaron said he didn’t know whether the laissez-faire approach to benzos was something that APT pioneered on its own, or whether it was the result of changing state or federal guidance. On Sept. 20, 2017, the FDA made a safety announcement in which federal officials discouraged the practice of kicking benzo-positive patients off of methadone outright.

“The U.S. Food and Drug Administration (FDA) is advising that the opioid addiction medications buprenorphine and methadone should not be withheld from patients taking benzodiazepines or other drugs that depress the central nervous system (CNS),” reads the statement. “The combined use of these drugs increases the risk of serious side effects; however, the harm caused by untreated opioid addiction can outweigh these risks. Careful medication management by health care professionals can reduce these risks.”

Aaron said that the Congress Ave clinic was “like a death sentence” for APT employees when he worked there. He described the working culture as “pretty toxic,” and said that burnout among employees is common. He cited several reasons, such as “authoritarian” supervisors, low pay, and a feeling among staff that administrators would not have their backs in dealing with patients who repeatedly put them in harm’s way.

He said that when he began in 2014, he was very impressed with the experience of the staff and the quality of care they were able to provide, but “about two years later, they were all gone.” He described the longtime staff, those still standing from that era, as being “burnt out.” Aaron said that the high turnover has a negative impact on care provided to the patients as well. 

“They’re hiring people who get a degree, and they don’t really understand, but they need a job,” said Aaron. “So, the patients are always being handed off to new people. It’s not very common that the caseload of a patient remains in one hand.”

Fundamentally, Aaron’s issue with APT is that they’re “bad neighbors.” He said that he doesn’t want the blame to fall on the hands of the patients, but on the Foundation for “not in any way” taking accountability for the patients they bring in.

“You’re bringing these people into the community because of your program but will take no accountability for what you’re also bringing to the community once they leave their facility,” said Aaron. “So that’s probably my biggest concern.”

While historically, methadone clinic regulation has been stringent, many rules were relaxed during COVID. These changes were made permanent on Feb. 2, 2024, when SAMHSA revised 42 CFR Part 8, the federal regulations that dictate how methadone clinics and other opioid treatment centers must operate. Most notably, these changes reduced restrictions surrounding take-home doses and also reduced the criteria necessary for patients to sign up for care. While the changes were intended to reduce barriers to care, clinicians themselves shared concern that they may increase diversion, or the sale of prescription methadone on the street.

One Yale study surveyed all eight methadone clinics in Connecticut from July 8 to Aug. 18, 2020, to document differences in clinical behavior and patient outcomes pre-COVID to post-COVID. While the study determined that methadone involved overdose deaths did not increase over the period, it did find that the prescription of takeaway doses increased significantly.

The changes in clinical behavior post-COVID were stark; there was a 16,700% rise in the prescription of 28-day take home doses, 89% rise in prescription of 14-day take home doses, 15% rise in prescription of four-six day take home doses, 19% rise in three-day take home doses and decreases in the number of two-day and one or less day take home doses (-36% and -74%, respectively).

The study also surveyed clinics for concerns surrounding the changes made to the SAMHSA guidelines pre-implementation and asked them whether these concerns still held weight post-implementation. The sole concern which appeared well-founded was methadone diversion. Three clinics were concerned that lax restrictions would increase diversion, and all three reported increased diversion as having occurred.

John Lockhart, a property owner in the area, has taken it upon himself to look closely into the problem of diversion at the APT Foundation. He believes that the clinic can and should be doing more to curb methadone diversion. He’s since submitted several FOIA requests to the state’s Department of Mental Health and Addiction Services regarding APT, and recently received documents back, but they provide little insight on any of APT’s internal diversion policies.

“They have a huge diversion problem of methadone, where their patients literally walk right outside, if they’re getting their take home doses, and they sell it to people on the street,” said Lockhart. “Like trucks pull up, Foundation patients run up to the car, they all sell the methadone, and then they go, and they just buy heroin and fentanyl.”

Lockhart told Inside Investigator that he first submitted a FOIA to DMHAS and the state’s Department of Public Health on Oct. 24, 2024. The request asked for all department documentation on APT, as well as any communications between APT and state officials, pertaining to its diversion control plan, take home methadone regulations, methadone diversion, continuous quality improvement plans, or violations of state and federal statutes. 

To make sense of the request, one must first understand how methadone clinics are governed. Per Connecticut’s Office of Legislative Research, clinics must be federally certified and accredited by the Substance Abuse and Mental Health Services Administration (SAMHSA), must meet state licensing requirements set by CTDPH, and must be registered by the Drug Enforcement Administration (DEA). 

There is considerable overlap in the guidelines between the three agencies. All require a diversion control plan, which is defined by SAMHSA and federal law as “a set of documented procedures that reduce the possibility that controlled medications will be transferred or otherwise shared with others to whom the medication was not prescribed or dispensed.” 

Continuous quality improvement plans are meant to ensure the clinic is improving care, and per federal guidelines, includes “annual reviews of program policies and procedures and ongoing assessment of patient outcomes.” Diversion control plans are also considered a part of quality improvement plans.

Take-home methadone is as it sounds; methadone given to a patient by the clinic for use at home. Typically, methadone must be consumed by the patient in front of clinical staff, but various factors, from a clinic’s operating hours to a patient’s vacation plans, may make it impossible for a patient to go to the clinic in-person every day. Additionally, trusted patients are often rewarded with take home doses.

Per federal guidelines, clinics should consider giving unsupervised doses to patients who have an absence of active substance use disorders, regularly attend the clinic for supervised doses, don’t have behavioral issues, and don’t have a known history of diversion. 

In an email sent to DPH, DMHAS and SAMHSA on July 28, Lockhart shared his belief that the Foundation is operating without a diversion plan, noting that none of the agencies could provide him with a copy upon request. He also went as far as to accuse that APT’s continued prescription of methadone to known sellers was tantamount to Medicaid fraud, and demanded further investigation.

“APT has been continuously issuing take home methadone doses to individuals that they can witness right outside their window selling the dose,” said Lockhart. “The amount of fraudulent Medicaid billing done by the APT Foundation to patients they knew would sell their doses, and or reasonably anticipated would sell their doses, and or could readily witness and prevent from selling their doses needs to be investigated.”

Lockhart invited Inside Investigator to join him on a visit to the Congress Ave clinic early one Saturday morning, to get a first-hand look at the issue of diversion, and so patients could share their clinic experiences. Patients were provided anonymity and were paid for their time, to allow them to speak freely and to incentivize their participation. Any names provided of clinical patients are for the purpose of reader clarity.

The clinic runs from 5:30 a.m. to 1 p.m., Monday through Saturday. As the clinic is not open on Sundays, all patients get a take home dose each Saturday, to hold them over until Monday. However, not every patient uses this dose as they should. Within minutes of standing on the corner of Congress and Vernon Street, towards the rear of the line of patients waiting to get their doses, two patients walked out with bottles in hand, asking if we were interested in buying.

“I got bottles,” yelled one man with a backpack on, standing on the corner. 

A car and a pickup truck pulled up to the curb in front of the clinic to purchase bottles. A small group of patients flocked to both, bottles in hands, to exchange their bottles for fistfuls of cash. One patient walked away from the truck, counting his bills, tallying up $90 in total. 

“Sometimes it’s hard out here, so some people sell it,” said one of the clients, who first approached to ask if we were interested in purchasing.

He said that typically the going price for methadone on the street was $1 per milligram, but that it could vary wildly depending on how pressed for cash the seller is. 

“If they’re sick, or really need it [money], they’re willing to sell it for whatever,” he said.

While the clinic did have an on-site security guard, and there is a considerable police presence in the neighborhood, diversion happened freely in the open, without interference from either. 

But why do people buy methadone off the streets when they could sign up for the clinic that has staff dedicated to getting patients’ insurance in order, and get it for free? The patients who spoke with Inside Investigator gave several reasons.

One patient, Lola, said it was “because they can’t get it for free, or they have it, and they just want more, they have a high tolerance, and they want more.” Another patient noted that in the past, she was able to get higher doses as a client in New York, but claimed she could only get as high as 200mg at APT.

“I think it’s awful,” she said.

Aaron said that the increased prevalence of fentanyl has made it even harder to meet a patient’s tolerance. As an opioid itself, methadone dosages must meet the tolerance of an opioid user to effectively reduce their cravings. As fentanyl is a significantly stronger drug than traditional heroin, 50 times more potent, it is more difficult for methadone to keep a fentanyl user’s cravings at bay. 

“Since fentanyl is so strong, we’re looking at it like, you can’t even scratch my itch with the highest dose,” said Aaron. He compared the clinic’s prescriptions of suboxone and methadone to skim milk, and fentanyl to “a block of cheese.” 

Even more concerning is the rising prevalence of even stronger opioids, like carfentanil, which is 100 times stronger than even fentanyl, or nitazenes, a group of synthetic opioids that range in strength from being as strong as fentanyl to even stronger than carfentanil. While there were zero overdose deaths attributed by the state to carfentanil or nitazenes in 2019, there were 18 in 2024.

“So it’s just not gonna do anything to stop you,” said Aaron. “The power of fentanyl is so strong that methadone is now obsolete.”

Lola also said that diversion is often the result of patients who have double-habits, or are addicted to more than one drug, as the methadone only staves off opioid cravings. Aaron said that in some instances, he saw patients pick up a new addiction to supplement the lack of high provided by methadone.

“They still need the high, they still need something, so they sort of transfer to a new substance,” said Aaron. “A lot of people who never really did cocaine or crack begin using that.” 

Chase, another patient outside of APT, fell into this category. Chase said that he first started taking methadone while taking a court-ordered drug and alcohol program at the Grant Street Partnership in West Haven, because it gave him a way to get high without failing any of the tests they gave him.

“I started doing methadone before I even had an opiate problem, because I was in the program and I couldn’t smoke weed, but I substituted that to get high because I didn’t want to be sober in the program,” said Chase. “I didn’t want to feel reality, and I would go back to jail if I smoked weed, so what I did was I just drank methadone, and as a couple years went on, I ended up starting using heroin.”

“I never thought I’d be coming here every day to be on methadone, when I never used heroin,” said Chase.

Other patients said some users would rather battle addiction on their own and only purchase methadone when their cravings are especially strong. Others can’t get their treatment approved by their insurers, which makes paying out-of-pocket for methadone on the street cheaper than getting it from the clinic. Lastly, others wish to double or triple their dose, in an attempt to chase a high. 

The patients shared Aaron’s sentiment that APT is hesitant to kick patients out of the program. 

“They are too lenient, I’m telling you, but then again, we need it,” said Lola. “Sometimes we need it, sometimes we don’t.”

Another patient, Amy, said that for someone to be kicked out of the program, they must do “something really, really bad.” Amy said the clinic used to be stricter. She said she almost got kicked off back in the early 2000’s, after producing a dirty urine. She said she had to have a meeting with a supervisor, who asked her why they shouldn’t kick her out of the program. She insisted that if she was tested again, she would be clean.

“The next day they gave me a urine [test], I’m negative, I was like ‘I told you!’,” said Amy. “Back then, it was strict.”

While all the patients said it took a lot to get kicked out of the program, all of the patients also reported having seen it happen. They said the majority of the time it was due to getting caught selling their bottles.

“I just saw someone get kicked off like three days ago,” said Tim. “He got caught selling his bottles, again.”

Tim S. said that his younger brother is also a patient of the program and still uses heroin despite being trusted enough to get take home bottles. Tim said that despite his brother repeatedly testing positive for drugs, the clinic hasn’t reduced his take home privileges yet.

“Not everybody with bottles is doing well,” said Tim. “My brother, he only comes three days a week, but he gets high. He gets dirty urines, and they just keep going ‘Stop or we’re going to take it away, stop or we’re going to take it away.’”

Tim said that he’s trusted enough by the clinic to get a month’s worth of take-home doses, and that he used to do so, but that he’s since decided against it. He prefers to come every day to keep himself accountable, as there were times in the past when he’d misuse his take-home doses

“You know, I’ll be an idiot for two seconds, and I’ll take a bottle and at the end of the month I’m five bottles short,” said Tim. “I know I’m a drug addict; it’s a mentality in your brain, they can’t change that.”

Tim said that he’s been clean for around two years and was clean for about two and a half years before that. He said that he “doesn’t go on runs anymore,” and has been more or less clean since he had his daughter six years ago.

“Within a month of seeing her, I couldn’t get high anymore,” he said. “I couldn’t keep getting high, I would fuck up here and there, but I’d feel like complete shit, I would not continue with it.”

Tim said the clinic used to only give take-home bottles to clients after they demonstrated three years clean.

“It might be two now?” he estimated. “I don’t know, but they give you bottles a little quicker than they did before COVID.”

He had many criticisms of the clinic but shared his belief that the good outweighs the bad.

“There’s definitely bad, but there’s more good I think,” said Tim.

Another patient, Eric, said he’s been clean from heroin for “about a year now.” From Bristol originally, he said he now has an apartment in West Haven but is struggling to find steady work. He said that prior to methadone he considered killing himself, but treatment has “basically broken that addiction,” and shared that he has good relationships with the staff.

“This place really does help a lot,” said Eric. “I’ve seen at least five or six people have their lives saved just by OD’ing on the side of the street, and that’s not a consequence of this place, that’s the consequence of people’s addiction. If they didn’t happen to be right here, they would have OD’ed at their house and they would have died.”

Geographically speaking, the clients said that most people are from New Haven, but that they’ve met people from Bridgeport, Waterbury, Milford. Lola said she was from Ansonia originally.

Patient opinions were mixed regarding how the program is run and the ways it could be improved, but all agreed that the location of the clinic was far from ideal. Tim noted that the difference between Congress Ave and other clinics is stark.

“This is by far the loosest clinic in the state,” said Tim. “Just look around – on the outside, even the other clinics aren’t like this, the drug dealing right outside the door, the bottles, all that.”

Tim summed it up as a difference in attitude.

“First of all, it’s an overall attitude,” said Tim. “This place, you deal with people hanging out and they don’t do that, they don’t allow that in other programs.”

Just as Aaron said, Tim noted that APT’s North Haven location doesn’t allow for people to hang around. 

“You can’t hang out,” said Tim. “North Haven, you leave, you go to your car. If you run into your buddy you could talk for like a minute, but they don’t even like that, they don’t play around.”

Similarly, Aaron noted the West Haven and North Haven clinics as being better situated to prevent criminality; both are sited in industrial zones, with large parking lots, isolated from businesses, schools, residential neighborhoods, as well as drug dealers.

Tim said that he didn’t know if it would be possible for APT to keep people off the corners surrounding the clinic, and said even if they were able to, he’s not sure they have any incentive to try. At one point, a Yale New Haven Health car pulled alongside to usher passersby off the curb from across the street of the clinic, but even they only pushed the crowd a short distance down the block.

“The only thing we really gotta do is just stand where the bus stop is,” said Chase. “They can’t tell us we’re not waiting for the bus! It’ll be the New Haven police that’ll be busting their balls to kick people out for loitering because a lot of negative stuff happens.”

Radcliffe echoed his sentiment, saying that APT’s security only shoos people out of the parking lot, and could use mobile security or cooperate with the police to better maintain the surrounding area.

Radcliffe also noted that the day after the Planning Commission issued its no votes, the area around APT “was like a ghost town,” which she believed to be the result of a concerted effort on behalf of either APT, the City Hall, or both, to reverse the public’s negative perception. She noted that it had the opposite effect on her, as it proves that both APT and the city could have worked to allay residents’ concerns all this time, and avoid complaints surrounding the location to begin with.

“There was a police car sitting in the parking lot, there was nobody on the streets,” said Radcliffe. “I don’t know who swept through there. The area had been cleaned up, Public Works or somebody went through and cleaned up the trash and it’s like — really? So this is something that could have always been done?”

Tim said staff had told him that the state was “cracking down” on the clinic, and Chase said it’s probably because the clinic “attracts a lot of addicts.” 

“Considering the fact that they come here and they use, across the street or down at the corner or wherever they might, that it’s becoming a problem to the school and the stores,” said Chase. “It’s bringing negative activity to the neighborhood, and they’re blaming the program for it.”

Tim said that a lot of the people hanging around aren’t even patients, saying that he’s had run-ins with drug dealers before while near the clinic. Aaron noted that during his time working for the clinic, one of the patients was found to be a dealer of methadone and other drugs and was kicked off after being arrested.

Tim said that despite the issues surrounding APT’s Congress location, he doesn’t believe in kicking people off the program, unless they’re mixing drugs that could put them at increased risk of overdose, such as benzodiazepines.

“The only thing that kinda makes sense, if you’re mixing drugs, is that it could kill you,” said Tim. “Benzos are a problem. But they’ve loosened up with that, too.”

Tim confirmed that clinic employees will refer some patients who test positive for benzos to their in-house psychiatrist so that they can be written a prescription. 

“They have a psychiatrist here too, so if you’re one of those people who takes benzos a little bit on the side, they might send you to the psychiatrist, then they’re getting money both ways,” he chuckled. “The psychiatrist here though is actually pretty strict, she’s professional.”

Tim said that he thinks altogether, the staff does seem to care; he estimated that three out of every four staff members cared, but that there’s “plenty that don’t.”

“The higher-ups don’t seem to give a fuck, they’re busy,” said Tim. “It’s pretty obvious, they don’t hide it. It’s like a paycheck, you know? You could tell some of them, if they got fired, they don’t really care.”

He said that he doesn’t think that everybody is qualified, and said that it’s “pretty easy” to get a job at APT. He also seemed surprised that some people “lack people skills” which he figured is a prerequisite for working with users.

“They need more staff, they clearly need more staff,” said Tim. “Sometimes you have to wait to see the counselor.”

Another common policy complaint shared by patients was the difficulty they had in getting their doses lowered. 

“If you say you want to go up, they’ll raise your dose the next day,” said Jack, another patient. “Going down? They do not want you to go down.”

Patients gave two reasons why it was more difficult to lower dosages; first, lowering doses makes any potential relapse more dangerous, as it lowers a user’s opioid tolerance. Essentially, clinicians want to ensure that a patient is stable enough to warrant a reduction. Second, many of the patients shared a more cynical view, acknowledging that weaning patients off removes money from APT’s payroll.

“There’s no money in the cure, there’s money in the comeback,” said Jack. 

APT has been looking to relocate its Congress Ave clinic for several years now. In 2022, the Foundation floated the idea of moving into a location in Newhallville, but the plan was quickly snuffed out after significant community backlash. Since 2023, the Foundation and City Hall have been working out a plan to move the clinic to a location at Long Wharf. The most recent plan called for the construction of a three-story facility at 60 Sargent Drive.

The parcel, which is currently owned by the state, was to be conveyed to APT at whatever cost the state determined. The decision to convey the parcel would be determined by votes before the city’s Community Development Committee and then the Board of Alders. That vote was supposed to be held on July 30th, but was taken off the agenda after the city’s Planning Commission voted no on APT’s requests for site plan and permit approvals on July 23rd.

Radcliffe, said that if the vote were to have occurred, it would have been a bad look for City Hall.

“The protests we were going to be staging, that would have been awesome,” said Radcliffe. “We had like about a 100 people that were going to show up in red shirts, we had posters made, we had pamphlets, we were gonna have a bullhorn outside, and we had like 30 people that were to give testimony inside that was scripted so that they were able to stay within their two minutes.”

In a July 30th statement, Elicker attributed the decision to put the plan on hold to both the Planning Commission’s no votes and community concerns.

“We believe the proposed new location on Sargent Drive is well-suited for the APT Foundation’s new clinic and to consolidate its operations at one strategic location,” said Elicker. “We have also heard feedback from community members about their concerns and are considering that feedback.”

Radcliffe explained that while the move would have taken the clinic she’s criticized so much out of her own neighborhood, she was looking at the bigger picture when she voted no. She indicated that she isn’t merely a Hill resident, but a New Haven one, and explained that she didn’t think the move would solve APT’s problems, but simply transport them to another neighborhood.

“What happens downtown affects the Hill, what happens in Wooster Square affects the Hill, West River affects the Hill,” said Radcliffe. “You know, this is a city — It’s not us vs. them, it’s not.”

Radcliffe too called APT a bad partner, and claimed it hasn’t done the outreach it has claimed to ahead of the proposed move, which “gives me pause to consider the validity of the statements they’re making.” Furthermore, she stated the move wouldn’t be right for the city’s stated economic development plans for the area.

“This is not a good economic choice for the city of New Haven, you know?” said Radcliffe. “I’m a taxpayer, this is another tax exempt property; why do this on Long Wharf that has so much more potential.”

Aaron shared the same thoughts. The parcel at 60 Sargent Drive was assessed last year at a value of $21,408,100. While Radcliffe explained that no matter who the land was conveyed to, the city wouldn’t stand to make money off the sale, she explained that a sale to APT would take it off the tax rolls indefinitely.

Aaron proposed “building up” either the West Haven or the North Haven clinic. He also noted that the North Haven clinic is in a building that APT owns but doesn’t fully utilize. It is currently renting a portion of the building to Mama Rosa’s, a pizzeria. 

“They can build up that building, add a floor, like they plan to do here, and have all the space they need,” said Aaron. “They can tell the pizza restaurant that they’re going to move them out, and that alone would be enough to accommodate more space.”

Aaron found it ironic that APT, a non-profit organization, is “making money off of their real estate, and now they’re asking the city to give them a multi-million-dollar parcel.”

“It just doesn’t make sense that the Mayor of New Haven is going to give them one of the most valuable lots in the city when they’re renting out their current footprint to a restaurant,” said Aaron. 

Aaron said that the majority of patients during his time at APT came from outside of New Haven, with most coming from the Naugatuck Valley. Because of this, Aaron believes it makes more sense for APT to find a location outside of New Haven altogether.

“A facility within the city doesn’t make as much sense when the West Haven clinic is less than two miles from the existing Congress Ave location,” said Aaron. “So if they were to move the Congress Ave location, it should be somewhere north of New Haven, because that’s where the majority of the people are coming from.”

Aaron said that APT’s clinics in Guilford, West Haven and North Haven, are underutilized, better located, and serve to make any location in New Haven redundant. He said that if the City is insistent on keeping a location within the city, the closing of schools throughout the city, as well as the likely closure of even more, would provide better opportunities for clinical sites.

“There’s so many of the parcels in the city that would be better suitable, including the multiple school lots, they’re closing multiple schools,” said Aaron.

Aaron suggests that cities and towns should take their share of the burden off the City of New Haven for treating the state’s opioid crisis. At the very least, he said APT should open clinics “in every major community,” listing Waterbury, Meriden and Hartford as examples. 

“Instead of providing a program where they come into the city of New Haven, they need to be where they’re at in their communities, or go to a higher level of care,” said Aaron. “That’s just my personal opinion. Only because they bring adverse responses from the community.”

Although the city has pumped the brakes on its relocation plans for now, APT is not without recourse, and Elicker seems insistent on finding a solution within city limits.

“The treatment offered at facilities like APT is the difference between life and death for many of our most vulnerable residents,” said Elicker. “We need to continue to extend compassion and care to those who are in desperate need of help so they can get the treatment and services they need in an appropriate and safe setting. We will continue to do everything we can as a city to ensure this happens.”

Radcliffe explained that APT has the ability to bring the Planning Commission’s decision before the courts, and said similar cases have happened in New Haven before. She also noted that a vote to keep APT out of Long Wharf, was not a vote to keep APT on Congress Ave, and said that the clinic’s local opponents have already caught the ear of state representatives in an effort to do so.

“That is not only instrumental I the long run, but it’s also instrumental with the program and licensing of the APT Foundation on Congress Avenue,” said Radcliffe. “At the Department of Mental Health, there’s been complaints made. Hopefully there’ll be investigations of how they’re running their programs, that could call into question their continued ability to run those programs.”

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