Pia Hansen: Development part of city life, so be proactive
If you already live in the shadow of the Maple Street Bridge, some would ask how a little more shade could matter. When you moved to Peaceful Valley, they’d say, you must have realized that anything bigger than a hot-dog stand, built on the ridge above you, would cast a shade over your backyard.
Or perhaps that’s exactly why so many Peaceful Valley residents are opposed to Mick and Shelley McDowell’s proposed project: a 17-story condo and townhouse combo – Riverview on Riverside – that would be built immediately east of, and next to, the staircase that connects Riverside Avenue and Peaceful Valley.
It is a stretch to say the development – with some stories dug into the hillside – would blend in with the small old houses that would be its nearest neighbors to the west.
The developer says he’s gone out of his way to design a project that will be as unobtrusive as possible. The neighbors say their neighborhood is being destroyed by someone with much more money and influence than they have. And the City Council is teetering on the fence, trying to make a decision between angering the neighbors or being sued by the developer.
I don’t think this is about shade, it is about NIMBY – “not in my backyard” – and how can it not be?
The Growth Management Act aims to reduce sprawl by increasing infill. If you live inside the city limits and are under some illusion that the weed field on the other side of your driveway will remain vacant for the rest of your life, you are wrong: Someone owns it, and someone wants to build there.
Peaceful Valley is a beautiful neighborhood right on the river. Its small, low-impact streets are lined with small, older houses, some featuring elaborate decorations testifying to the creative personalities of the residents.
It always reminded me of “Fristaden Christiania” in my hometown of Copenhagen, Denmark, and I mean that as a compliment.
Christiania was “born” in 1971 when a group of freethinking (some would say hippie) neighbors tore down a fence to a huge abandoned parklike military installation, just a short stroll from central Copenhagen. Soon, a commune of sorts blossomed on government-owned land, resisting police and political attempts at eviction.
Today, Christiania is still there – but not for much longer: The city is moving in; apartments are proposed; developers are lining up – suddenly someone realized it’s just a stone’s throw from city hall.
Does that sound familiar? Residents of Peaceful Valley are of course not anarchist squatters, but they do live within walking distance of the city core, yet have maintained an illusion of being a creative, untouchable enclave.
The city has been growing around Peaceful Valley, and today it’s naïve to believe the area can remain the hole in the middle of the doughnut that is urban development.
Yes, that’s too bad, but sticking your head in the sand is not going to help you preserve your neighborhood, no matter how much you love it.
You must get organized and be proactive.
I can guarantee you that the landowner looking to build on that lot where your kids play baseball right now is thinking proactively.
As for how the city holds up when facing lawsuits from eager developers, I agree with the Peaceful Valley residents who, on Monday, suggested the city already has the ultimate weapon on hand: Sic assistant city attorney Rocky Treppiedi on the developers. If he would be as successful countersuing developers as he is countersuing citizens who file lawsuits against the Police Department, Spokane would never lose a dime in court.
And then we could all sit around, 10 years from now, patting each other on the back as we ask each other why all the new developments happen in Seattle and Boise, while everything remains so backward in Spokane.