A homeless island? We examine Sean’s craziest

‘I hate this place’ Cononie hates hotel location, plans to purchase island or ship instead

One idea Cononie is considering is purchasing an island. Submitted photo.

No man is an island, entire of itself, especially Sean Cononie and the residents of the COSAC shelter.

Cononie is infamous in south and central Florida for his ideals and philosophies in addressing homelessness.

Cononie relocated his COSAC shelter from Hollywood, Florida to Haines City earlier this year, after the city forced them out. Cononie’s plan was to move somewhere isolated, but the problems he faced in Hollywood haven’t disappeared.  ey’ve simply evolved and new problems have arisen.

“I hate this place,” Cononie said. “I hate my job because every day is a problem. I don’t like being threatened to get arrested for wiping pee up or cleaning someone’s poop up or dressing their wounds.”

Currently, he owns and operates the Stay Plus Inn in Haines City.  e facility provides rooms to both homeless and the general public.

He’s at the hotel for now, but Cononie has been tossing around several ideas about what his next step will be.

By Malorie Paine

Isolating homelessness

People don’t want to see homelessness, Cononie said. Cities have tried to outlaw homelessness, he says, and it’s impossible to do that.  e most frustrating thing for Cononie is that the governments have been trying to put homelessness “out of sight, and out of mind.”

He’s considering two options that he believes would be better for the shelter residents.

Cononie has investigated the process to purchase either an island or an old cruise or Navy ship, where shelter residents and other homeless people could move.

He says one of the three islands he’s considering costs about $995,000 to purchase, but would be much more cost e ective in the long-run.

Purchasing an old Navy or cruise ship wasn’t an idea Cononie came up with on his own, but he says it’s one he has certainly explored.

“A ship could house about 5,000 people,” he said.

Cononie says he is disappointed in people who want to put homelessness out of mind. He says buying an island would give people a “free pass” to do just that, which is the only reason he would consider not buying an island.

A homeless island or ship sounds like a great idea, until you consider the logistics of the actual idea. Sure, an island where all homeless people could go and feel welcome sounds great, but people shouldn’t be isolated on a ship or island for the rest of their lives.

Some of the residents at Stay Plus Inn already feel like they are isolated and away from the things they need and want, I don’t see how they would be comfortable living in even more of an isolated situation.

In addition to the isolation, a lot goes into inhibiting an island. The island would still need plumbing and a stockpile of supplies such as food and basic necessities. The likelihood of a homeless island or ship being successful is slim to none. Analysis of plan

Homeless hotels possible for other cities

Cononie said he would love to see others take responsibility in addressing homelessness.  e Stay Plus Inn’s operation model is one that could be replicated in other cities with a prevalent homeless population, he said.

Cononie wants to present the idea of low-income hotels across the country on the television show “Shark Tank,” a show where inventors can present their ideas to a group of investors who are then able to invest in the proposal.

Cononie says he thinks this particular show would provide the greatest opportunity to reach people willing and able to make a di erence.

“Even if it wasn’t selected, someone watching might think ‘Hey, I could do that,’” he said.  en, they could work together, he says.

“I believe this concept would work other places because it’s working for us,” he said.  e idea behind the hotel is that not everyone can a ord a room, but that shouldn’t prevent a person from having a place to stay.

“Some pay, some don’t,” Cononie said.  e shelter would have to be replicated in a lowincome area where homelessness is prevalent.

“Everywhere has a bad area,” he said. “You wouldn’t want to open one of these next to an upscale restaurant, obviously.”

Analysis of plan

This idea could become a reality for other cities. However, it would take someone willing to put in the effort and work required to operate a low-income hotel. This couldn’t be opened with the intention of making money. It would absolutely have to be for the right reason, which is only to help resolve homelessness. I believe with the right people behind it, the Stay Plus Inn could certainly b e replicated.

New place, new problems

Before

By: Dori zinn

Sean Cononie is happy about having more space, but he isn’t used to the slower lifestyle. In Hollywood, emergency response took less than five minutes to arrive. During a recent overdose at Stay Plus Inn, a tenant didn’t get into an ambulance until 35 minutes after the first call was made.

cononie

Welcome to Haines City, where you can’t leave anywhere unless you have a car. The nearest restaurant to the Stay Plus Inn is nearly a 30-minute walk up Highway 27. WalMart trips happen every other day or so, where tenants will load up a van to drive three miles away to avoid an hour walk in the summer heat. Some residents walk 10 minutes to the nearest gas station just for snacks. Toto, we’re not in Hollywood anymore.

When more than 100 COSAC residents moved up to Haines City earlier this year, they left their cramped quarters in downtown Hollywood for a spacious 120- room low-cost motel three hours north. It may be in the middle of nowhere—Haines City has only a fraction of the population and square mileage that Hollywood does—but that doesn’t mean it doesn’t come without any benefits.

after

The cafeteria

There’s no longer a tiny cafeteria with diners shoulder to shoulder. Now, the dining hall has an open floor plan where many residents don’t even need to sit next to each other when eating. They don’t even need to talk to each other at all.

Before

The tenants

COSAC in Hollywood accepted children, but not because they wanted to. There usually wasn’t a place for them to sleep with limited rooms and space. In Haines City, everyone gets a room and pays what they can. Families—sometimes as large as six—are in one room together. Solo guests, depending on their budgets, may get roommates. Some visitors pay $24 a night, some pay nothing.

The compound

The COSAC shelter in Hollywood was an 8,500-square-foot. sex motel, where some of the 17 rooms still had mirrors on the ceiling. Stay Plus Inn boasts more than 120 rooms with more than twice as much space. Some long-term guests who were former shelter residents now stay together in rooms of 2, 4 or 8, depending on what they can afford, but at least they aren’t sleeping on a cafeteria floor.

After

Before

Photo by Noelle Haro-Gomez

The Water treatment

Besides a fancy pool and more than double the space, the Stay Plus Inn also has one heavy machine that COSAC did not: their own, private water treatment facility. In Hollywood, COSAC paid nearly $3,000 a month to the city for water. In Haines City, there’s a water and sewage treatment facility on the property that eliminates a water bill entirely: a savings of $36k a year.

Photo by Stephanie Colaianni

The work

The Homeless Voice still gets distributed by the same people—the tenants. Now instead of having the South Florida residents at their disposal, they drive an hour away to busy Orlando streets. Their days are now cut shorter due to longer commutes. They still sell the paper to make money and earn their stay.

The community

Gone is the patio where dozens gathered daily and instead, residents retire to their rooms. There’s not as much of a need for a community when there’s no place to meet them. The new digs have a pool that some of the tenants frequent—a relatively new luxury.

Photo by Noelle Haro-Gomez

Waiting for 37 minutes A race against time and drugs

By ally krupinsky

COSAC staff members try to keep Steven Baumgartner alive until an ambulance arrives. An ambulance arrived 34 minutes later. Photo by Noelle Haro-Gomez

Someone dials 911.

Steven Baumgartner, a Stay Place Inn resident of two days, took 4,400 mg of Seroquel, a medication used to treat bipolar disorder, depression and schizophrenia. The average dose is 800 mg.

Baumgartner allegedly was upset with his roommate, so he wanted to “calm down.”

Stay Place Inn owner Sean Cononie, along with about seven other workers, are trying to keep him awake.

They’re also trying to keep his heart rate down. Once it hits 135 to 140 beats per minute, they have him stick his thumb to the roof of his mouth and blow, and later tighten his stomach.

“Stay focused,” they tell him once he starts to nod off. At one point, Cononie starts to sing. Cyndi Malvita notices several cuts on both of his forearms. “It’s the only life you got man,” she says. “You gotta live with it.”

9:48 p.m.

10:09 p.m.

Baumgartner’s heart rate is at 141. He’s not doing as good of a job at blowing, and the small crowd gathered around him is giving him words of encouragement.

Cononie says the Stay Place Inn has seen about five overdoses since its opening in March.

Mike O’Hara, who works for Cononie, says it was somewhat easier for residents to keep an eye out for one another in the more confined spaces of the Hollywood shelter. They also utilized a medication lock box for high-risk residents.

“The exact night” that state officials told Stay Place Inn employees they couldn’t hold anyone’s medication, a resident overdosed.

10:17 p.m.

A deputy with the Polk County Sheriff’s Department arrives. Baumgartner tells him he was trying to commit suicide.

Malvita says fire rescue should have been on standby in order to offer quick assistance. Her explanation for the slow response time is, “they hate us here.”

10:21 p.m.

Four fire rescue responders arrive to question Baumgartner. They’re not carrying a stretcher or supplies.

10:25 p.m.

Baumgartner is placed on a stretcher.

Before he’s strapped in, Malvita checks to see if he has any sharp objects in his possession.

“They want to go home tonight,” she says to the barely coherent Baumgartner.

Frustration is palpable as the small crowd disperses.

“They don’t care about the homeless,” Malvita says. “This is a perfect example.”

Cononie calls the wait “unacceptable.” He understands the concern for their safety, but thinks fire rescue needs to be on scene immediately once they get the okay from law enforcement.

He says he’s spent more than $100,000 on emergency training and equipment over the years, which is especially handy on nights like this one.

“I gotta tell you, that’s the best $100,000 I’ve ever spent in my life.”