If Beltley wants to become N.J.’s 565th municipality, here’s what it would take

Beltley has a name, a founder, a playground, and thousands of views on social media.

What it doesn’t have is a municipality.

John “Cozz” Cozzarelli has jokingly declared a small stretch of land between “Welcome to Nutley” and Belleville signs to be New Jersey’s newest town, combining the names of the two Essex County communities to form Beltley.

The proposed municipality consists of a field, a parking lot, and a playground.  One fairly significant obstacle remains: the land is not an unclaimed gap between Belleville and Nutley.  It belongs to Belleville.

Cozzarelli told News 12 New Jersey that he rejected “Nutville” as too Nutley-centric and hopes Beltley can eventually become a destination for people across the country.

“I think people just want another municipality in New Jersey,” he said. “They just can’t get enough of them here.”

New Jersey already has 564 municipalities, although it has not created a genuinely new one in nearly seven decades.

Beltley could still join another, much larger group.

Beyond its incorporated cities, towns, townships, boroughs and villages, New Jersey has roughly 2,700 named localities. They include Census-designated places, unincorporated villages and communities, recognized neighborhoods, postal place names, historic settlements and localities that extend into more than one municipality.

Some have identities nearly as strong as incorporated towns.

Short Hills is part of Millburn. Basking Ridge is in Bernards Township. Princeton Junction is in West Windsor. Whippany and Cedar Knolls are in Hanover. Sicklerville, with more than 45,000 residents, is part of Winslow.  Woodbridge alone includes Avenel, Colonia, Fords, Hopelawn, Iselin, Keasbey, Menlo Park Terrace, Port Reading and Sewaren.

Those communities may have their own ZIP codes, schools, fire companies, business districts, and intense local loyalties.  What they do not have are independent municipal governments, taxing authorities or their own mayors.

And others are more obscure, arguably funnier or more interesting, albeit less legal: Some may surprise you: Dolphin; Ong’s Hat; Buttzville; Cheesequake; Buckshutem; Foul Rift; Comical Corner; Feebletown; Pork Island; Caviar; Penny Pot; Rotten Pond; Shell Pile; Bivalve; Pestletown; Turkey Foot; Double Trouble; Frogtown; Loveladies; Cow Tongue Point.

Under that model, Beltley could become another name on that unofficial map without needing Trenton’s permission.

Turning it into New Jersey’s 565th municipality would be considerably more difficult.

The first stop would be the State House.

Unlike the late 19th century, residents cannot simply draw their preferred borders, collect signatures, and vote themselves into a new borough.  Creating a municipality today would require an act of the New Jersey Legislature.

That means Beltley would need sponsors in the Senate and Assembly, passage in both houses, and the governor’s signature.  Because the land is part of Belleville, the legislation would need to detach it from the township and establish the new municipality’s borders and government.

Lawmakers could also require approval from voters in the affected territory, as they have in previous municipal breakups and consolidations.

Then come the practical questions: Who owns the playground?  Who maintains the parking lot?  Who provides police and fire protection, garbage collection and snow removal?  Where would Beltley children attend school?  How would Belleville’s debts, assets and other obligations be divided?

And, perhaps most importantly in New Jersey, who pays for all of it?

State law also requires an accurate survey whenever creating a municipality changes the boundaries of an existing one. Commissioners would establish the new lines, and their report would need to be recorded with the county clerk and the clerk of the new municipality within six months.

It was once much easier.

The Borough Act of 1878 and subsequent legislation allowed residents to create boroughs through petitions and local elections.  The result was “boroughitis,” an epidemic of municipal breakups that produced 40 new towns in 1894 and 1895 alone, most of them in Bergen County.

The Legislature eventually concluded that allowing residents to draw their own borders and vote themselves into new governments was a dangerous delegation of state power.  By the end of the 1890s, new incorporations and boundary changes required legislative approval.

Municipalities continued to appear well into the 20th century.

Chester Borough split from Chester Township in 1930. Roosevelt was incorporated as Jersey Homesteads in 1937. Medford Lakes followed in 1939, Winfield Township in 1941, Audubon Park in 1947, and Buena Borough in 1948.

New Shrewsbury — renamed Tinton Falls in 1975 — was incorporated in 1950. Victory Gardens became a borough in 1951.

Vineland was created in 1952 through the merger of Landis Township and Vineland Borough, making it a new legal entity even though it did not increase the statewide municipal count.

The last genuinely new municipality was Loch Arbour, a tiny Monmouth County village carved out of Ocean Township by an act of the Legislature on April 23, 1957, after voters approved the split.

Nothing new has been created since; only ten have been created over the last 100 years.

The modern trend has moved in the opposite direction.  Princeton Borough and Princeton Township merged in 2013, and Pine Valley dissolved into Pine Hill in 2022, reducing the statewide municipal count from 565 to 564.

Some municipal name changes are occasionally mistaken for new incorporations. Robbinsville was Washington Township until 2008; Elmwood Park was East Paterson until 1973; and Cedar Grove was Verona Township until 1955.  None created a new municipality.

Beltley, of course, remains a joke — at least for now.

But if Cozzarelli can persuade Belleville to surrender its land, convince the Legislature to approve a 565th municipality, secure the governor’s signature, win any required referendum, commission a survey, and finance a government built around a field, a parking lot, and a playground, he can make it official.

By New Jersey standards, choosing the name may be the easy part.