Nobody around here seems to read The Miami Herald anymore, so we take the occasion to bring you up to speed on what you may have missed. On Sunday, Carl Hiaasen, the Herald’s star, on and off the newspaper pages, got off on Amendment 4. He did not exactly endorse it, but he gave an eloquent expression of the reasons so many people support it. The amendment will probably fail, and it should, because of unintended consequences, but the motive behind it could not be more valid. People are fed up with crooked politicians ignoring the will of the people when it comes to development.
When we say “crooked” we don’t necessarily mean money-crooked, in the sense of people taking flat out bribes such as we have seen in
There is no better local example of this than the fight between the First Presbyterian Church and its Colee Hammock neighbors. I have a dog in this fight; in fact, I am the dog in the fight because I live there. And I can say without fear of contradiction, that almost everybody who lives in this historic neighborhood is against the massive expansion of the church. There are some renters who may not care, and commercial property owners on Las Olas who want a massive building next to them, because then they can then go to the zoning board and say, in so many words, “You gave it to them, now I’m next. You gave them five stories. I only want ten.”
What makes this case so interesting is that many members of the church are opposed to the expansion. Only a few members live in Colee Hammock but they are among the most vocal opponents of their own church. Among them is Andy Costa, who is a member of the Session of the church. That’s a ruling body of about 25 people. Costa, who lives close to the church and is one of those whose property values will be most affected by the expansion, has made himself a pariah because of his opposition. He is convinced the fix is in. Fix is my term, not his. But not all the First Presbyterian members are happy. The church has never had a vote among its own members on this project. If they did, they might lose.
Says Costa: “There are certainly a lot of people who have withdrawn pledges. Many friends I have in the church have asked for money back. I just know for sure there are many people against it. The Session has chastised me for coming out and voicing my opinion. I am supposed to be silent, not profess my opposition, but I do it because it’s my right. Many people think the church doesn’t need this extra space to grow the ministry. I told them, I’m not your enemy. I begged them to get out of their seats and walk the neighborhood, to see what they are destroying. Nobody did it.”
If this sounds like anger, it’s exactly what Carl Hiaasen has sensed on a much broader level. Colee Hammock, which has people of wealth and smarts, is filled with signs rooting for Amendment 4. Many of the residents don’t think it is a good idea, but they are not tearing down signs. They are mad as hell. The politicians don’t seem to get it. But they will soon enough.
Some time back we described Amendment 4 as a bad idea whose time may have come. Upon reflection (and reflection is something scarce in this emotional debate) we amend our previous statement to say Amendment 4 is a bad idea in response to some bad zoning decisions. Despite understanding what motivates its proponents, we must admit this amendment’s time should never come. A lot of angry people, and some influential press types, are pushing the amendment, but we wonder how much reflection they have given the matter.
Land use and zoning are different animals. Zoning changes are the problem, not land use plans. We looked up some experts in land use and law, and got the views of people who know what they are talking about. In the words of one land use expert: “The constituency tends to mix them together, but they are distinctly different.” Now this is a man who gets involved in neighborhood zoning fights, where residents feel they are ignored by politicians approving development which harms their lifestyle. He is sympathetic to the little people, but says Amendment 4 will not solve the problem, and only put land use decisions in the hands of those whose backgrounds do not suit them for such decisions.
He sees a possible grave economic impact, and confusion and expense at the polling place if ballots are clogged with questions most people won’t understand, or even care about. This position echoes the business community fighting the amendment, even though our source disagrees with some of the zoning decisions made by politicians under the pressure of the same business community. He also adds that it would actually give cover to politicians who make the decisions that have led to this extraordinary movement.
The solution is at the ballot box, but not in the form of this amendment. It is the people we elect who are the problem. Politicians who champion neighborhoods in their campaign, but vote just the opposite when it comes to helping their developer buddies, are the real problem.
Forget Amendment 4. Throw the political bums out. They are responsible for their own dilemma.
This is how integration worked: The first black family moved into an all white neighborhood. If the whites were working class, there might be a riot. If they were more refined, someone called a neighborhood meeting and pleaded with everyone to stay calm, don't panic, be good democrats, welcome the new people, etc. As often as not, the person who called the meeting had secretly put their house up for sale, trying to be the first to escape before property values took a nose dive.
Soon most houses on the block were for sale, and within a few years the only white people left were elderly widows who could not manage a move, or families that for one reason or another - usually economic - were trapped in their homes. This was in the 1950s and 60s and it took place in cities all over the north. Visit most of those neighborhoods today, and it would seem the people who moved away had good sense. Their old houses are often shabby. Streets that were once neatly kept and tree lined now have little foliage, and amid well-maintained lawns are places filled with weeds and littered with junk. The neighborhood business streets look like third-world bazaars. Once popular stores are often boarded, and people hustle wares on the sidewalk. The local schools are dangerous places. It is the face of integration.
Fast-forward 40 to 50 years and there is a new face of integration. We saw this in Washington last week and Philadelphia this week. The inner-city neighborhoods which first went black a half century ago are undergoing reverse integration. Some call it gentrification. Or reintegration. Whatever you call it, it is the reversal of racial history.
Ironically, it began in the same once working-class neighborhoods close to the hearts of cities where residents panicked toward the suburbs years ago. Many of the reingegrationists are offspring of those who moved to the suburbs. But those suburbs are not the ideal living quarters they once seemed. Sprawl spawned fast roads, designed to make access to business sections easy. Unfortunately, they had the opposite effect. Those roads, as we see with I-95 in Florida, only generate more movement and more traffic, making the suburbs increasingly inconvenient for the white-collar professionals who often work in the downtowns. Doubly ironically, some of those suburbs, especially those right on the edge of these cities, are among the distressed neighborhoods mentioned above.
In the older downtown neighborhoods, it is a totally different story. Last week we reported on how Florida House, the only state embassy, helped launch a renewal of what was then a near slum virtually on top of the nation's capitol in Washington. Today young people (mostly white but also a mix of races) are spreading that urban redevelopment block by block, the same as years ago. But this time the black residents selling are not moving in panic of seeing their property depreciate; to the contrary they are getting handsome prices for modest houses they bought cheaply years ago. And there is little resentment of the new buyers, certainly not violence as of old. The streets in the old Capitol Hill section, originally built 100 or more years ago are, in a sense, the original American dream. Blacks, whites, Asians, Hispanics and just about any group you can name, are all mixed up, and happily so.
The old institutions, churches and schools, have revived. The commercial streets are safe and alive with activity. And the people, believe it or not, use public transportation and walk a lot. Many survive without cars – using cabs a lot, renting for out-of-town trips.
We saw the same thing in sections of Philadelphia - those surrounding the downtown core. The streets of the original city, lined mostly with row houses, have seen much the same pattern as Washington - particularly near the Delaware River, where William Penn planned a place of Brotherly Love more than 300 years ago. The era of integration a half-century ago was not pleasant, not anything like old Billy's dream for a city. But reverse integration is the irony of our times, and block by block, buyer by buyer, it may just be the salvation of our cities.
Washington, D.C. - People in our nation's capital admire Florida for many reasons. They like our weather, the fact that none of our college teams wear uniforms as ugly as Boise State and Virginia Tech did last night, and the fact that we elect people before they go to jail. Also we have the only state embassy in Washington.
That would be Florida House, conceived in 1973 by Rhea Chiles, wife of then-senator Lawton Chiles.
"Her idea was to have an embassy, a place for mom and dad and the kids when they visited Washington," says Bart Hudson, president and CEO of Florida House. "And that's still our primary focus. We get hundreds of kids, especially in the spring. We've had up to 200 here at one time."
Here is a big old house on 2nd Street, which has been converted into what is effectively an elegant club. It is a location to die for. From his office window, directly across from the Supreme Court, Hudson can see the Capitol, and beyond it the Washington Memorial. It is the envy of other states, several of whom tried and failed to duplicate Florida House. And yet when Rhea Chiles found this house it was abandoned, with floors caved in, in a neighborhood on top of the Capitol that was close to a slum. The neighborhood, known as Capitol Hill, was a disgrace – a run down and dangerous place next to our seat of government.
Which is something Washingtonians owes Florida. Florida House was one of the first buildings in the area to be rehabbed. It showed the potential of the Capitol Hill section and served as a role model for what has become a classic example of gentrification, stretching for blocks southeast. The section now is filled with charming homes which were once dilapidated. It is a vibrant mix of races, with many residents being young couples or students who have chosen to live conveniently and reversed the suburban trend which has led to beltway traffic jams among the worst in the country.
Hudson, a fourth generation from Florida's Panhandle, arrived 11 years ago – a bit too soon.
"I moved to Maryland because I couldn't find a place in Washington where I wanted to live," he says. "Today I would buy in D.C. "The Capitol Hill neighborhood is a good investment."
How good are the prices? Similar homes in other cities that might sell for $200,000 bring $500,000 and over in Washington. A young former Florida couple just paid $360,000 for a 1880s-era row house that needed to be totally rebuilt. And that price was more than the bank, who had it in foreclosure, was asking. They are literally rebuilding from the ground up. The rotted floor had to be replaced and since there was no basement, they were looking at dirt. And yet comparable houses just doors away, which have already been rehabbed sell for more than $500,000. There has been no housing bubble in the nation’s capital.
Back to Florida House. Although Rhea Chiles’ concept of a place for families remains in place, Florida House has also welcomed businessmen and organizations doing business in Washington with Internet services and anything they might want. Additionally, it's a popular site for receptions, often used by Florida’s elected officials. It’s also a cultural center. It currently is showing a collection of paintings by Florida’s famous Highwaymen, on loan from a Canadian collector.
The best part of this achievement is that it was done totally through private funds. Hudson says several other states have attempted to build their own embassies, but did not follow Florida House’s model. “They wanted to use state money and that just doesn’t work,” Hudson says. What Rhea Chiles started four decades ago has been continued by other congressional wives, prominent among them is Emilie Shaw, wife of former congressman Clay E. Shaw. She supported Florida House during her 26 years in Washington, and there is now a fountain in the garden on the premises in appreciation for her work.
