Seattle's planners are not alone. Back in the early 90's the state of
Washington decided to widen and straighten out the famous Renton S
curves. We had the misfortune to live just above those noisy,
substandard curves. After much planning, several mock ups were opened
to public viewing, and comment. There were 7 in total. Cathy and I
walked around the room and both of us picked out the plan that took
out the most homes, and declared that this was the one the Planners
had already selected. It had the most detail in its construction, as
well as clearing out some 24 pieces of property. If I recall, it was
22 houses. Normally many of these homes could have been auctioned off
and moved. But the 405 Freeway overpass was too low for the houses to
pass beneath. So what we called, "The jaws of death" were brought in
and every one of those homes, some very expensive, were turned into
rubble. Once the property belonged to the state, no one was allowed
to haul off any pieces of buildings, or dig up any plants or shrubs.
Of course thieves sneaked in under cover of night, and plundered. But
the rubble was all hauled off, the property was dozed over and
leveled, and the new wider S curves were built. The construction came
within half a lot of our fence, but the new road was lower and built
tighter to the hill, with sound barriers. We sat high and lonely,
overlooking the Cedar River, over what had once been our neighborhood.
That's when we built out here in the middle of Nowhere, and shook the
dust and pollution off our feet.
But all of this proposed project had been planned behind closed doors
and then sprung on the public. We went to several public meetings and
protested the design that the state was pushing, although right up to
the end they denied they'd selected one.
When home owners raised questions, the state officials became
impatient and even abusive in their replies. One neighbor asked if he
would be compensated for the piece of his property taken by the
project. "If we don't touch your house, we don't compensate you.
After all, how do you know that the new highway won't increase your
property value?"
Another neighbor had his house and about three fourths of his property
taken. All that was left was a garage in which he kept supplies for
his small business. "Can't you just buy it all?" he asked. "We only
condemn what we need. You're responsible for what's left." Have you
ever tried to sell a 2,000 square foot piece of property with a garage
on it? It was too small to obtain a building permit and too isolated
for any nearby neighbor to want. He tried to buy the back piece of my
property, but that would have caused problems for us when we tried to
sell.
In my opinion, community planners are a waste of taxpayers money.
Over my many years living in the Greater Seattle Area, I've seen one
glowing plan after another, turning the city into a Public Paradise.
But the folks with the money buy property, tear down the existing
buildings and send their new shiny towers into the heavens. No
planning. Forget parking, or reduction of congestion. Forget those
wonderful dreams of a public waterfront with plazas and parking and
parks and fountains. And wave farewell to many of the historic
buildings, the beautiful remains of those late 18 hundred and early 19
hundred's buildings.
Money trumps all! And don't cross the wishes of those who have it.
Trying to force Boeing to pay for new road and sewer installations
around their expanding facilities caused this giant corporation, the
same one that claimed to be such good neighbors to the city of
Seattle, in order to "punish" the government officials, they pulled up
their headquarters and moved off to Chicago. The had the bad sense to
claim it was to enable them to be more centrally located in the world
market. Huh? But years earlier, when Boeing was forced to split up,
its Airline, United, moved its headquarters to Chicago.
While I'm not suggesting that we shun public meetings, or fail to put
in our concerns, we need to understand that most of the time it is
after the fact. Where we should be meeting and planning is to figure
out how to force our way inside the very beginning of the discussion
and planning.
Carl Jarvis
On 8/18/15, S. Kashdan <skashdan@xxxxxxx> wrote:
From: "Seattle Displacement Coalition" <jvf4119@xxxxxxxxxx>
To: "Seattle Displacement Coalition J-Fox" <jvf4119@xxxxxxxxxx>
Sent: Monday, August 17, 2015 6:17 PM
Subject: Outside City Hall: Seattle's urban planners have a language all
their own
please circulate
Outside City Hall: Seattle's urban planners have a language all their own
by Carolee Colter and John V. Fox
reprinted from August 2015 editions of Pacific Publishing newspapers
http://www.pacificpublishingcompany.com/
When zoning changes are proposed for the place where you live, things aren’t
always what they seem. We’re here to help you decode city planner
terminology.
First, you get a mailer announcing, “You’re invited to participate in a
community conversation with other stakeholders.” When you arrive at the
meeting, you see the event has been choreographed in advance and those
“other stakeholders” are developers, architects, large property owners and
people from organizations with names like “Future Choice,” “Urbanwise” or
“Eco-Growth.”
These groups, heavily funded by development interests, have one mission: to
sell you on the notion that, by cramming as much growth as possible into
your community, it’ll save polar bears and make housing more affordable.
After you take your seat, a paid facilitator announces, ”We’re here to
participate in a robust conversation and dialogue leading toward development
of a new urban design framework for your neighborhood.”
Combining “robust,” “dialogue” and “conversation” in the same sentence wows
you into believing this is no top-down exercise.
The facilitator waxes on: “We’re taking your input into development of
streamlined approaches to the rules and processes that could allow housing
development to occur more efficiently and foster new partnerships for
development and innovation in housing types allowed in lower-density zones.”
Then the facilitator tells you that growth is inevitable. Some all-knowing
power has already assigned your neighborhood a “growth target,” and there’s
nothing you can do about it. Nevertheless, “we’re here to turn your ideas
into a new plan, create a new partnership and, together, figure out how best
to address that growth.”
After establishing these immutable ground rules, the facilitator intones
that together in this very room, we’ll all work toward “innovative
solutions” to “ensure that the rich cultural fabric and heritage of the
city will be maintained and enhanced.” You’re told, “The ideas we generate
will only be limited by our potential to imagine them.”
Next, you’re broken up into “visioning” groups, usually by topic such as
housing, transportation, public safety or open space, each led by a planner
who writes down your ideas on butcher paper. Then everyone reconvenes and is
asked to put green, yellow or red sticky notes next to the good, so-so or
bad ideas for your neighborhood. A photographer documents all this.
What you’re really getting
A couple months later, the city releases an “urban design framework”
purporting to reflect these sessions. Filled with glossy photos of
attendees, the report identifies plans and policies that presumably you had
a hand in developing.
Funny, though, how these plans don’t look anything like what you and your
fellow residents prioritized with sticky notes on those sheets of butcher
paper. Now, the public plaza, the additional parking, the growth limits and
anti-displacement strategies you all called for are listed as “aspirational”
goals that somewhere, sometime in the distant future may be implemented.
Instead, the report alleges the key recommendation from the session calls
for your neighborhood to be upzoned from one end to the other. Your stable
and diverse community, now filled with hundreds of older affordable
lower-density apartments and houses, will be rezoned for high-rise offices
and luxury apartments.
The report insists that the new development will “seamlessly integrate new
building forms into your community and enhance the urban fabric.”
Translated, that means “We’re going to allow 60 200-square-foot,
$2,000-a-month ‘apods’ in a 75-foot-tall building slammed up next to your
single-family home.”
And, apparently, it’s something you endorsed because there’s a picture of
your happy face from the session right next to the recommendation.
It turns out your area is “underutilized.” You live in a “walkshed”
identified for “Transit-Oriented Development,” meaning anything within a
half-mile of a rail stop —two-thirds of your neighborhood, in fact — will be
transformed into a “dense, walkable, mixed-use, transit-rich hub” and “a
vibrant, sustainable and green pedestrian-friendly urban village.”
Translated, that means, your quiet streets and rows of carbon-sequestering
trees, your older homes and apartments with years of useful life left in
them, must give way to 300-foot towers, built with energy-consumptive,
carbon-emitting concrete, steel and glass. Developers put grass on the roofs
of these things and a “sharrow” or “woonerf” out front, and suddenly,
they’re
“low-impact” and “LEED-certified.”
Based on reality
You think we’re making this up? We’ve drawn precisely from language used in
the exercises neighborhoods are now being dragged through in Ballard and the
University District, so that predetermined land-use changes can be given an
appearance of community support, then taken to the City Council and rammed
down our throats.
But all is not lost! The report announces your neighborhood business
district is first in line for some “innovative parklets.” The upzone will
obliterate the character of your community, but you’re getting some
planters, chairs and Astroturf set up in a fume-choked parking strip. This
“demonstration project” puts you on the “cutting edge of sustainability.”
Welcome to urban planning in Seattle.
(For more information on Displacement Coalition activities google us, or we
can be reached at 206-632-0668)
