Mom vs. Deer in Totowa: What Would You Do?

This is the redevelopment project adjacent to Echo Glen in May 2019:
 paved roads, a power station, expanses of dirt -- no trees.

My elderly, widowed mother is fighting her own Battle of Winterfell -- and she needs our help.

Call it The Battle of Echo Glen, which is a residential subdivision of Totowa, NJ, that abuts a formerly abandoned asylum.

Unlike the fictional "Game of Thrones" blood fest, this combat is real and began quite innocently. It has evolved into a story of pinwheels and soap flakes.

Our noble quest? Protect the flowers in Mom's beloved garden.

Here's the story of how we arrived at this desperate place.

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"Bobby," said Mom on the phone several months ago, "there are reindeer visiting me in the backyard!"

Her voice was breathless, full of awe and wonder. One deer, a buck with regal antlers, seemed to her a particularly magical sight.

The Developmental Center main entrance in 2016.

I can't be precise about the date of this call, but it was likely around June 2018, after construction began to level the North Jersey Developmental Center, a 188-acre compound of buildings permanently closed in 2014.

I've written about this abandoned asylum before.

This center had opened in 1928, preceding Echo Glen's construction by 30 years. Originally called the North Jersey Training School, by 1953 the center served 625 women with neuro-developmental disorders and included a 275-bed nursery, making it the only one in the state that housed children. The total of residents dwindled over the years, numbering 190 before the center was shuttered.

Last May, 35 buildings on the site were demolished to make way for a 257,000-square-foot data center for J.P. Morgan, a 590,000-square-foot assisted living facility, a medical office, a research and development facility, and associated parking lots.

This demolition was the opening salvo of The Battle of Echo Glen, since it was followed by the leveling and removal of countless trees. The woods there had not been cut or disturbed since the property was acquired in 1916, more than 90 years ago.

The Developmental Center main entrance in 2019.

On a recent Sunday, after a visit to Mom, I saw newly paved, open roads at the site, so I took a brief detour and was astounded by what I saw. There's now hardly a tree to be found. It's as if every square inch of the property is being developed, as the Boro of Totowa seeks as much ratable property tax income from the site as municipally possible.

When the trees disappeared here, displaced deer began foraging in neighboring Echo Glen.

As the months have passed, these deer have ruined my mother's prized garden and other plantings. This has left her heart-broken.

She is not a lone casualty, either. Deer infestation is now a constant source of chatter at the weekly Monday meetings of Totowa's senior group.

Neighbors have devised their own strategies to fight back. One popular tactic has been to shave cakes of mint-scented Irish Spring soap and scatter the flakes on leaves and branches.

Bottom branches chewed away; plastic ivy on the shed.
(And, yes, ironically, that's a decorative ceramic deer.)

Mom's weapons have ranged from inexpensively hopeful (installing twirling pinwheels from the Dollar Store in her garden to try to frighten the deer when the wind blows) to disappointingly costly (a monthly fee to have her lawn and garden sprayed with deer repellent, and to have deer droppings removed). Not to mention two strategically placed $69.95 solar-powered devices that are supposed to emit a deer-offending sound undetectable to humans.

All to no avail.

Families of deer routinely find gaps around the low fences in her neighborhood to feast on her garden. Along Mom's back fence, arborvitae branches have been neatly chewed clean from the ground to the jawline level of a deer. The natural green ivy that once graced Mom's back shed has been replaced with plastic green ivy she purchased at Hobby Lobby.

Mom's resolve is not broken, however. On a recent Monday she heard a rumor at the Totowa senior club that deer do not like the taste of vinca. She now intends to purchase an arsenal of these flowering plants at Home Depot to restore some color to her garden.

As Mother's Day 2019 approaches, I vow to better serve at the side of The Queen of Echo Glen and Protector of Her Realm as she fights this never-ending battle.

Don't get me wrong. I have nothing against deer. Can we all get along?

Laurel Grove Cemetery elk.

The Boro of Totowa has nothing against deer and other wildlife either:

• On the other side of town, local firefighters rescued a deer whose head had become stuck in the gates of Holy Sepulchre Cemetery on the eve of Halloween 2016.
• One of the most notable memorial sites at another nearby cemetery, Laurel Grove, features a large, majestic elk that overlooks Route 80.
• During a "Mother's Day Clean-Up" last week, well-wooded Laurel Grove (where Dad is buried) even issued this gentle reminder: "Please remember, resident deer live on the property and feed on flowers that are not deer-resistant."

The thing is, I love Mom more than I love deer, and more than Totowa loves deer. Also, I now fear that Mom might get bitten by a tic when she ventures out to try to repair her garden.

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So I'm enlisting your support.

What do you advise that we do in this situation?

Like Jon Snow, I'm struggling to do the right and honorable thing. I already know I can't save the trees. I just want to help Mom -- in fact, help all the residents of Echo Glen.

They deserve a better fate. All their property tax dollars saved by the massive redevelopment of a former asylum should not be spent instead on mint-scented soap, pinwheels, ultrasonic sound machines, vinca plants and deer repellent.

Mom's garden last year, before the war began.

Any suggestions?