McLean Playground A Swinging Success

The playground, called Clemy for short, is the brainchild of Adele Lebowitz, who donated her 18-acre McLean estate to the county in 2000 with the proviso that it build a park with access for disabled children.

Developers figure the land would have been worth as much as $30 million, but Lebowitz handed it over to Fairfax for $1. Lebowitz, a widow, lives in her three-story home at the edge of Clemyjontri (the name melds the first names of her four children). "I see the kids coming and going and running around and having a good time, and that's great," she said.

Park Authority-issued bonds paid for most of the playground's construction. A group of private supporters, Friends of Clemyjontri, kicked in $680,000. The playground is the first phase of the project, to be followed by trails, a gazebo and a privately funded sculpture garden.

So busy has it been that the Park Authority recently pleaded with visitors to come in the early morning and late afternoon, when the crowds are smaller.

"People need to realize that if the parking lots are full, they need to think about maybe coming back during a less peak time," said Park Authority spokeswoman Judy Pederson. "We're very concerned from a safety perspective."

The park's popularity is a mixed blessing for disabled children and their parents -- and some of the park's neighbors.

Some lament that disabled kids have to wait for the handicapped-accessible equipment -- such as double-size swings with handlebars -- when able-bodied children take them over. And some mentally disabled children don't understand why they have to wait in long lines to ride the carousel.

Megan O'Boyle, 39, of Arlington said she was resentful of the hordes of able-bodied children when she first brought her 6-year-old daughter, Shannon, who is autistic. "But then I decided they're just kids being kids." And perhaps by playing side by side with disabled children, O'Boyle said, abled-bodied children will learn "a little compassion along the way."

While agreeing that the playground is an asset to the community, some neighbors complain that the thick traffic and parked cars are an inconvenience -- even a danger.

"We're tearing our hair out here," said Bronwen Kaye, who lives in a nearby cul-de-sac overrun by cars. The neighborhood recently ordered $500 "no parking" signs for the entrance.

Along with overflowing parking lots, though, overly full bladders have become an urgent issue. After closing the playground's restrooms for the winter, the county hastily reopened them last week after reports that adults and children were urinating among the trees.

For many families, it is the park's whimsical features that keep drawing them back.