A Path Not Taken

BY ALEX MARSHALL
COVER STORY
PORT FOLIO MAGAZINE

Sometimes I like to mull over the choices we have taken as a region and then, in a masochistic mood, try to pick the absolutely worst one, savoring the special flavor of failed dreams and paths not taken.

My personal favorite for all-time blooper is Virginia Beach, Chesapeake and Suffolk opting to split off in the 1960s into mega land-area cities and cut off Norfolk’s expansion. In one fell swoop, we separated rich fro poor, city from suburb, growth from decay, and thus insured that it would be vastly more difficult to tackle common problems and challenges together. We built a political fence through our common garden.

But vying for second place is the decision made 30 years ago not to build a big regional airport out in Chesapeake.

For you see, Norfolk was not doomed to have a tiny airport with terrible service. From 1968 to the early 70s, a debate bubbled across the region. It was clear the old Norfolk airport was outmoded. What should be done?

As Norfolk prepared to expand the old airport off Military Highway, a vocal lobby emerged, saying no, that was the wrong decision. They advocated building a new and larger airport out in Chesapeake or Suffolk that would serve both sides of the water, and position the region to capture more business growth.

It didn’t happen. Despite accumulating voices, Norfolk, recently burned by its suburban neighbors over annexation, stuck to its guns. If needed, we can move the airport later, its leaders said. That didn’t happen. We missed a chance, and it never came again.

This was a crucial decision. With different choices and some luck, we could have had a large regional airport just a short drive from downtown, with direct jet service to New York and other major cities. Our economic development would have been ratcheted up a notch, as we played with the Charlottes and the Clevelands, rather than the Winston-Salems and Lexingtons.

What more, if the region had managed to cooperate to finance and build a big regional airport, the Southside would have been knitted to the Peninsula and the region made one in more than name. Cooperating on an airport might have set the stage for joining together on universities, roads, stadiums, and things like tackling poverty and crime.

Even the very culture of the area might have changed because new ideas and people would have more easily come into our region.

But that didn’t happen. Norfolk expanded its small airport, Newport News eventually expanded Patrick Henry, and the region was stuck with two small airports without a lot of market power.

“It really cast us inexorably in being a second-rate community,” said businessman and community leader Andrew Fine.

“Hindsight is 20-20, but I’d be surprised if anyone didn’t think that wouldn’t have been a better approach,” said George Crawley, a member of the Norfolk Airport Authority and former assistant city manager of Norfolk. “That might have been the piece that solidified us as a region.”

The airport story shows how our fragmentation as a region probably directly hurt our future. Although this is often said, rarely do you see it so clearly as in the tale of a big airport not built.

Somewhere, Hunter Hogan, that wiley, Yoda-like real-estate salesman, is smiling, his grin and voice triumphantly saying “I told you so.”

For it was Hogan that resolutely pushed to build a regional airport outside of Norfolk proper that would serve both the Southside and Peninsula. True, he no doubt would have somehow made a lot of money off of it. Hogan, one of the founders of Goodman-Segar-Hogan, was an excellent businessman. But he also spoke repeatedly about the long-term health of the area.

“Norfolk is being sold short; the whole Tidewater community is being sold short because we are not being far-sighted enough,” Hogan said in 1969. He would keep saying this over the next few years.

The site Hogan and his allies were pushing was on the edge of the Dismal swamp in Chesapeake. {SEE LOCATOR MAP?} Roughly at the apex of a triangle, it would be easy to access to from both sides of the water. It would be close enough from the Norfolk downtown– 12 miles — to be reached easily, but far enough out to handle larger planes and future growth.

Twelve miles from downtown. It’s funny how far that seemed to people at the time. Now, new airports are built more than 30 miles outside town. The new Denver airport is a 45 minute drive from the center city.

Hogan’s plan and site had difficulties.

There were questions even in those environmentally-unaware days about building in or near a swamp. It unquestionably would not be allowed today.

James Crumbley, 77, executive director of the airport at the time and former head of Virginia International Terminals, said he and a group traveled out to the proposed site when it was under consideration.

“We went down there one day, and we broke off a big limb, and you could push it 5 feet into the ground,” Crumbley said. “You would have had to pile all the runways.”

Of course, Hogan insisted that the Dismal Swamp site was just one option. After all, Chesapeake, which is now covered with subdivisions, was then mostly open fields.

Crumbley defends the decision to keep the old airport site. There was no guarantee that we would have captured more traffic with a bigger airport, he says. Coastal cities like Hampton Roads are rarely chosen as hubs because planes cannot draw traffic from all sides, he said.

Roy B. Martin Jr., who was mayor at the time and opposed moving the airport, said finances, location and future usage all pointed away from a new regional airport.

“Who would have built it?” Martin asked in a recent interview. “Where would the money have come from? You weren’t talking $20 million. I think the idea was good, but there was no highways there. The state wasn’t going to help.

“None of the other cities came to the table and said OLet’s go do it.’ I never remember a push to move the airport” by the other cities.

Perhaps, but the record seems to show otherwise. Elected officials and community leaders from all the surrounding cities were reported voicing support for an expanded regional airport. Virginia Beach Councilman Lawrence E. Marshall was quoted in The Virginian-Pilot saying, “We should look beyond 20 years and invest in a tremendously large international airport.” Chesapeake Mayor G. A. Treakle came out in favor of it. Even one of Norfolk senators, Peter K. Babalas, urged then Gov. Linwood Holton to use “benevolent authority to force Southeastern Virginia localities to accept creation of regional airport.”

And sure, a $50 million to $100 million new airport — which was the figures loosely thrown around — would have been difficult to finance. But one of the advocates of a new airport was Edwin MacKethan, a trust officer for Virginian National Bank and more importantly, the guy who helped set up the bond issues for the $200 million Chesapeake Bay Bridge-Tunnel. If the guy who financed the bridge tunnel was on board, maybe financing a regional airport was not out of the question.

Other groups came out against the old airport. Pilots said it was too close to existing schools, like Azalea Garden and Landsdale Elementary. Landing at the airport required a steep angle of descent that was not optimal. They urged a new airport be built farther out.

Norfolk resisted. A consultant the airport hired recommended expanding on the old site. Airport officials pointed out that both New York’s La Guardia and Washington’s National sat on sites no bigger than Norfolk’s airport. The consultant confidently predicted 4 million passengers annually by 1990.

Present traffic in 1999: Under 3 million — below its traffic in 1984. By comparison, Charlotte went from 5.5 million passengers in 1982 to 22 million passengers in 1996. The Virginian-Pilot, which uneasily arbitrated the debate in its pages, seemed to sense that the region was making the wrong decision, but seemed not to have the nerve to oppose Norfolk.

“Perhaps Tidewater would be better served by a new and larger airport elsewhere. The Port Authority believes otherwise and . . .at this point it would be asking much to demand that the authority back up and start over,” said a 1969 editorial.

It was classic Virginian-Pilot. Squishy. It vaguely supported the status-quo, while leaving you with the feeling that something was being lost.

Another Virginian-Pilot editorial advised:

“Hampton Roads may in time attract a significant amount of long-haul traffic. Meanwhile, Patrick Henry and Norfolk Regional must base their plans on what is probable. It is improbable that either will become a major airport. And simply building a major facility is not the way to enter the big time. Demand must be there. Dullas International Airport, with its sweeping runways and uncluttered setting, is scandalously underused.”

Hindsight is easy, but it’s amusing how wrong this editorial is. In fact, Dullas would eventually be swamped and is now being expanded. And notice the passivity of the editorial voice. It captures much of our faults as a region. It doesn’t say, “If we build a big airport, we can capture much of the long-haul traffic.” It essentially says, “We should only build a big airport if we have captured the long-haul traffic.” Which of course, would never happen without the right runways and facilities.

It seems obvious now that Norfolk chose the wrong path and so hurt the future of itself and the entire region. Norfolk proceeded with its plans even though Piedmont Airlines — the predecessor of USAir — was sniffing around for a hub airport — WHICH EVENTUALLY WENT TO CHARLOTTE. It proceeded even though it knew larger jet planes could not land there, although later technological advances would reverse this. It built it even though it put civilian airplanes too close to military traffic.

Why did it persist on such a wrong-headed path? It’s here we see how one good turn begets another, and how the suburban cities urge to separate themselves from Mother Norfolk would come back to haunt them.

At the time of the airport debate, just a few years had passed since old Princess Anne county had “double-crossed” Norfolk and merged with the town of Virginia Beach to become a separate city. Nansemond and Norfolk counties soon followed suit, becoming Suffolk and Chesapeake.

Can you blame Norfolk for not exactly being eager to relinquish control of one of its few remaining assets — its airport — to a bunch of folks who had just recently told it in effect, “We’ll take your jobs, money and water, and you can have your problems with schools, race and retail flight.”

“I think the argument turned on that the City Council did not want it moved out of Norfolk,” said businessman Edward Power Sr., who was a close associate of Hogan. “It was the old story is that each city wanted to protect its own image, and not share a large asset with another community.”

In effect, the decision not to move the airport really was a continuation of the decision by the suburban areas not to be a part of Norfolk. We can’t have your suburbs, you can’t have our airport.

The new expanded airport opened in January 1973 to much fanfare. The new terminal, sitting on the edge of the Botanical Gardens, was declared one of the prettiest in the country.

Hogan, speaking before it opened, labeled it “A first-class terminal with a fifth-class runway.”

Paying for the $30 million expansion wasn’t difficult. The airlines paid for it through higher landing fees. Of course, by not paying then, we may be paying now. A state study in 1997 concluded Virginians pay 20 percent more than the national average for air travel, and that our fares have risen in recent years while declining slightly in the rest of the nation.

NEW SECTION {capitalize first few words} Twenty-five years pass. Norfolk International is a nice, pleasant airport. It is also a very small one. In national rankings based on number of passengers travelling annually, Norfolk International has slipped from 43rd in 1973, to 53rd in 1982, to 60th today.

Construction is now underway on a $60 million new arrivals terminal, and a $35 million additional parking garage. THIS WILL EXPAND THE NUMBER OF TICKET COUNTERS AND LANDING GATES, AND SO IMPROVE THE AIRPORT’S COMPETITIVENESS. But these are unlikely to radically change the airport’s national position, because it IS STILL HEMMED IN AND LACKS ROOM TO EXPAND RUNWAYS. THE AIRPORT LACKS PARALLEL RUNWAYS, WHICH ARE NECESSARY TO LAND JETS IN HIGH VOLUME.

THE AIRPORT MAY EVENTUALLY BUILD A PARALLEL RUNWAY. BUT BECAUSE VIRGINIA BEACH HAS BUILT ITS INDUSTRIAL PARK UP TO THE EDGE OF THE AIRPORT, THE FUTURE PARALLEL RUNWAY WILL NOT BE THE REQUIRED 800 FEET FROM THE ORIGINAL RUNWAY. BECAUSE OF THIS, THE RUNWAYS WILL NOT BE ABLE TO BE USED FOR SIMULATANEOUS LANDINGS, ONE OFFICIAL SAID. LACK OF COOPERATION BETWEEN THE TWO CITIES ON THIS ISSUE STRANGLED THE AIRPORT’S CAPACITY FOR GROWTH.

Our main airport is still pretty. The rectangular terminal is majestic, and is enhanced by its frame of trees and lush gardens. It is also convenient. You can drive right up to it, and get from car-door to plane without jogging down endless corridors or navigating multiple access lanes.

But the rest of your voyage is likely to be hellish. Odds are, you’ll find yourself crammed into a tiny cylinder of an airplane, transferring to get any destination beyond a stone’s throw away, and being served last and least in everything.

Airline service is lousy all over the country. It’s not just Norfolk that puts up with cramped seating, aging planes, discriminatory pricing and monopolistic airlines. They are largely the product of airline deregulation which some experts are labeling a failure.

But as airlines become semi-monopolies ruling over land-locked fiefdoms, it’s the little guys like Norfolk that suffer most. Stories of air travel out of Norfolk sound like those from a war zone or some natural disaster. No direct flights. Horrible layovers. Horrible prices. No respect.

Virginian-Pilot columnist Dave Addis, who apparently leaves his beloved car sometimes for a plane, hit nerves recently when he pointed out that airline service in Bulgaria was better than that in Norfolk.

Recently I was in the Newark airport, changing planes of course, on my way back to Norfolk from distant Boston. I had to shlep my way to gate 133 in a dim rusty corner of the airport. There, an official ushered us out a door, where we found ourselves on a sidewalk in the rain. We were boarded onto a Greyhound-style bus that then drove us to the tiny plane on the runway that would take us to Norfolk. It was very clear where we were on the status ladder.

Business theorist Ted Goranson, who lives in Virginia Beach, recently missed his plane from New York to Italy for an important meeting. Winds and rain in New York shut out the tiny planes leaving Norfolk, although regular full-size jets were landing fine. Goranson remembers standing in line next to a businessman from Brazil who had just missed his own flight back. He was vigorously scratching the area off his list of potential sites.

More and more, one has to transfer in Washington or Philadelphia even to get to New York City. Direct service is usually in tiny commuter planes.

“Without question, we should have jet service to New York,” said Kenneth R. Scott, current executive director of the airport. “But talk to the airlines, and they all have different reasons for the inability to put jets in.”

And then there are the prices. A trip to Boston without a Saturday stayover, even bought several weeks in advance, recently was costing $700 on USAir.

Ouch.

Of course, all this sets back the economic potential of the area. Having good direct service is simply indispensable for many companies.

We like to talk of how we are the 25th largest metropolitan area, and the only one without a professional sports team. Might it have something to do with us having the 60th largest airport in passenger volume?

Our decision to have two smaller airports — Norfolk International and Patrick Henry in Newport News — mirrors our decision to have lots of other smaller things, say some area observers. Because we can’t cooperate, we end up having four or five convention centers, rather than one or two that would bring in the big guys. The same goes with stadiums and airports.

“We are going to have more mediocre things than anyone else,” said Brad Face of The Face Companies, A MEMBER OF THE AIRPORT EXPANSION ADVISORY COMMITEE, AND PRESIDENT OF THE FUTURE OF HAMPTON ROADS. and a regional business leader. “We are going to have more 10,000 seat arenas than anywhere else in the country. Scope. The Coliseum. ODU. William and Mary. Hampton University. But we don’t have one 25,000 seat stadium. We have two airports. Do we really need them?”

We do have one great big thing. Our port — Virginia International Terminals. What would have been our economic development potential if we had a great airport to go with it?

So what can we learn from all this? The point is to look ahead and see what other major decisions or projects lie ahead that might improve the region’s future.

It is a paradox that as we opt to let the free market rip, as private capital swarms across the globe looking for a home, it is increasingly the public, tax-payer financed decisions of metropolitan regions and their states that determine their competitiveness for that capital. Do we invest in that university or not? Do we build that airport? This even includes decisions like, Do we make the area more liveable by controlling sprawl, or by cooperating on controlling crime and social problems.

A region’s economy depends on its ability to move goods and people quickly and easily to other parts of the country and world. In our modern era, this usually means planes, interstates, ship and rail. Of those, only shipping is really top-notch in Hampton Roads, although freight links for rail are excellent. What if companies in and around Norfolk could easily transfer goods between interstate, air, ship and rail?

But the age of building big airports may be over, even though there has been loose talk of a Superport between here and Richmond. The same goes with interstates. Those transportational networks are largely in place.

The next major transportation revolution may be high-speed rail. As the possibilities and benefits of up to 300 mph travel becomes increasingly real, there is more and more talk of a high-speed network stretching along the East Coast.

Can Hampton Roads get in line for it? Or will we be bypassed? To be a part of it might require money, commitment and cooperation. Already, Charlotte is talking about a link between it and Washington D.C. by high-speed rail.

We’ll see what happens. Will we learn from our past?

Or repeat it?

Moving Hampton Roads

“The Joseph Papers”, Summer 2000. This paper was commissioned by The Joseph Center at Christopher Newport University for the study of local, state and regional government. It was the inaugural edition of “The Joseph Papers,” which are meant to provide a forum for the discussion of regional cooperation in the Norfolk Metropolitan Area. The “Joseph Papers” are scheduled to be published biannually. This paper examined regional transportation.

By Alex Marshall

Three hundred and twenty years ago a surveyor pulled his boat up on the muddy bank of a river and laid out the rudiments of a street system; streets for a new town named Norfolk, carved out of what was then Lower Norfolk County.

Virginia didn’t need towns much in 1680. Plantation owners shipped tobacco directly to England from docks on the James and other rivers. But the King didn’t like this decentralized system, so he ordered the General Assembly to set up towns to facilitate trade; twenty new towns in all, including Norfolk, Elizabeth City and soon afterward Hampton — and what we now call Hampton Roads was born.

Transportation has always been central to Hampton Roads, as it has to most cities. If they didn’t sit on a huge body of water that opens onto the Atlantic Ocean, Norfolk, Newport News, Portsmouth, Chesapeake, Hampton, and Virginia Beach would not exist. Things have changed a lot in the past 400 years, but access to principal transportation links is still crucial to a region’s economy.

Today, Hampton Roads is contemplating many transportation projects; from the 3rd Crossing and getting in on a high-speed rail line down the East Coast, to the everyday widening of boulevards and streets. How can we think about these projects and others in ways that maximize the wealth of the region and its quality of life?

I posit something here. That we in Hampton Roads have tended to think about transportation the wrong way, and that this wrong way of thinking is hurting our living standards, our potential as a region and our quality of life. Like most regions, we have tended to make transportation decisions reactively, in response to traffic jams or the loudest complaints. What we have seldom done is to use transportation ‘ the highways, train lines, airports and smaller pieces like streets, bike paths and sidewalks ‘ strategically, in order to build a better economy, and a better place to live.

Transportation is one of the core functions of government. Where and how we build roads, train lines and airports are wagers by society, bets placed on the best way to structure ourselves. But they should be seen as such. As with education decisions, transportation decisions build the future.

When one’s eye stretches across Hampton Roads, one sees a sprawling mass of subdivisions, shopping centers and office parks, stretching from Williamsburg to North Carolina, connected by thin reeds of superhighways across meandering bodies of water, and punctuated by isolated airports. How do we knit this assemblage into a more prosperous and cohesive whole?

We have two big problems in Hampton Roads: Our practical isolation from the rest of the country, and our over abundance of suburban sprawl. Thinking differently about transportation could solve both these problems.

Forty years ago, Lewis Mumford, the great urban planner and historian, asked forty years ago: “What is transportation for?” That’s still the key question. As Mumford answered, it is NOT about just moving cars from place to place. It is about understanding how highways, train lines and airports, ‘ the tools of transportation, ‘ interact with their environment, and build a community.

To Paris, New York, or Raleigh
Let’s say you leave your house in the morning to take a plane, train or private car to a meeting in Washington. How will that experience be? Not very nice. The train is slow and seldom. The plane is outrageously expensive. And the private car on the public highway is shoulder-to-shoulder with thousands of other travelers. And unlike on a plane or a train, in a private car you cannot prepare for the meeting by reading or writing.

Let’s change the trip. Let’s say you are going to Raleigh, not very far away as the crow flies. How are the connections? Even worse. In fact, our connections are poor to just about anywhere outside Hampton Roads.

These linkages to other parts of a country and the globe are what I call external transportation. They are the building blocks of a region’s economy. They are our airports, sea ports, Interstates and train lines. To make it today, a region should have a great airport, great train links, great Interstate connections, and a great port’or as many of these as possible. Right now, Hampton Roads has only one ‘ a great port.

Hampton Roads has historically done a poor job of establishing major transportation links – air, rail and highways – that would complement the port and multiply its economic power. This is partly the fault of national transportation policy, but it’s also a product of poor local and state decisions.

In 1957 Congress passed The Defense and Interstate Highway Act. As the first part of its name suggests, the official rationale for the largest public works project in human history was to help move troops and supplies across the country. So it is odd, and unfair, that the Norfolk/Newport News/Virginia Beach metropolitan area was left with some of the poorest Interstate connections in the country. State legislators, part of the Byrd machine, paid little attention to Hampton Roads. They focused on Richmond, which ended up with I-95 and I-64.

The 1960s and 70s were a time of great airport expansions. Hampton Roads missed out once again. Around 1970, we had a chance to build a major regional airport. Sites in then rural Chesapeake and Suffolk ‘ now covered with subdivisions ‘ were examined. But unsure if air traffic would materialize, and unable to agree among ourselves, we expanded the isolated Norfolk and Newport News airports instead.

By comparison, let’s look at Charlotte, North Carolina. In 1970, the Charlotte and the Norfolk airports had about the same amount of traffic, a few million passengers a year. Now, the Charlotte airport handles about 25 million passengers a year. Norfolk International Airport, our region’s largest, handles only 3 million passengers a year. Norfolk, once the 43rd largest airport in the country, has slipped to 60th.

If Hampton Roads is to improve its economy, then beefing up those major transportation links should be a top priority. It will not be easy.

Building A Better Place to Live
Let’s step out of that house again, only this time you are driving to work, to the mall on a Saturday, or just walking across the street to a neighbor’s. With any of these tasks, you are linked by a public web of streets, highways, and sidewalks.

It’s these I call the internal system of transportation. This system not only gets us from here to there; it helps determine the form of the places where we live. It even determines the type of home we live in. It’s no accident that homes in Ghent, in Norfolk ,’ a neighborhood built around a streetcar line in 1890, ‘ are tall and statuesque, and packed closely together. Just as it is no accident that the homes in those new subdivisions around Williamsburg built around easy access to the Interstate, are low-slung and sprawling.

Just as we usually fail to use external transportation strategically, we fail in a similar way with internal transportation. We should be building transportation systems with an eye toward what type of environment they produce. Instead, on a day to day basis, our planners build roads to solve traffic jams ‘ which demonstrably does not work. In fact, in the last 50 years, we have built more roads than in all of human history, and traffic has gotten worse and worse.

One need only look at Atlanta to see the effects of trying to solve traffic problems by building roads. This central southern city has invested more in highways per capita than almost any city in the country. The result? Its residents now drive more miles per day than anyone, and spend more time stuck in traffic.

In 1982 the average American spent 16 hours sitting in traffic. In 1997 that number rose to 45. Atlanta’s numbers went from 16 to 68! In Hampton Roads, delays increased from nine hours in 1982 to 34 in 1997’that’s not as bad as Atlanta, but it’s still an increase of almost 400 percent in just 15 years!

With both internal and external transportation, a balanced system is best. We should build cities where people have alternatives to their cars. The roads might still be congested, but fewer people would depend on them if they could use a bicycle, a trolley, or their own two-feet. That’s why efforts to build light rail lines around Hampton Roads should continue. That’s why less publicized endeavors, like making areas more accessible by bike, should proceed.

Portland, Oregon is fashioning an American version of the European compact city. A regional growth boundary has helped shrink the area, and the transportation department is building fewer roads and highways. Meanwhile, the regional government encourages neighborhood and smaller city centers to develop in a way that allows people to drive, bicycle, or walk to them.

The result: Portlanders drive an average of 20 miles a day, compared to 32 miles in Atlanta.

What we don’t need more of in Hampton Roads is limited-access highways within the developed metropolitan area. These roads were designed for long-distance travel, not daily commuting and shopping. That’s why the Southeastern Expressway, proposed from Virginia Beach to Chesapeake, is a bad idea. It goes from one suburb to another, exactly the type of highway unsuited for short commuting. It would greatly exacerbate sprawl.

It bears repeating. To diminish sprawl, we should diminish highway building and widening within the developed area. We should put that money into improved bus service, light rail lines and redesigning streets to accommodate more bicyclists and walkers.

Not Doing The Job
In our region, the Hampton Roads Planning District Commission is the principal long-range planning body for transportation. In general, it has missed opportunities by oiling the squeaky wheels of traffic congestion, rather than building a long-term vision for the area.

In its 1999 report, The Future of Transportation in Hampton Roads, the Hampton Roads Planning District Commission examines and endorses seven major projects: the Hampton Roads Crossing ($2.4 billion), the I-64 improvements on the Peninsula ($1.3 billion), the CSX corridor light rail line ($600 million), the Route 460 expansion ($1 billion), the Norfolk/Virginia Beach light rail ($1 billion), the Midtown tunnel and Pinners Point connection ($650 million), and the Southeastern Expressway ($425 million.)

The weaknesses are not in these individual projects ‘ some of them are needed, some of them are useless ‘ but in the method the planners use for selecting and evaluating them. In general, the planners picked these transportation projects by looking at where congestion is heaviest ‘ and recommending expansion.

The HPRDC planners should be asking how a proposed project will affect land-use, and how it will affect economic development. Building highways in response to traffic jams usually makes congestion worse in the long run by increasing reliance on the automobile.

Art Collins, executive director of the Commission, said the Commission was hampered because it lacked the authority to combine land-use and transportation into a planning package. This is true. It would help Hampton Roads if land-use and transportation planning were combined under one regional entity. But absent that, it does not mean that the HRPDC cannot predict how its projects will affect land-use, or how major transportation projects can promote economic development.

Regional leaders are recognizing these problems: “It’s obvious we can’t continue to build more and more roads,” said Clyde Hoey, the head of the Chamber of Commerce on the Peninsula. “You reach the point of diminishing returns.”

Southbound ‘ An Opportunity
If we thought more strategically about transportation we might find our vision drifting southward.

Standing on the southern-most border of Hampton Roads ‘ in Virginia Beach on the North Carolina line ‘ you are almost as close to Raleigh as you are to Richmond. As the crow flies, you are only about 125 miles away from one of the richest and fastest growing areas in the nation.
The average income of Hampton Roads residents continues to decline relative to the rest of the nation. Just the opposite is true for Raleigh-Durham, due to its growing concentration of high-tech industry based around the Research Triangle and the universities. But we here in Hampton Roads are cut off from the Raleigh/Durham/Chapel Hill area. By car, the usual means, it takes a good four or five hours, half of which is non-interstate. Politically, culturally and economically, Raleigh seems a million miles away.
If Hampton Roads could connect itself better to Raleigh, we could end our status as a dead-end cul-de-sac on the East Coast. We would connect with several Interstates, as well as a new train line being built between Raleigh and Charlotte. And with our huge port, there are natural connections. Virginia International Terminals now gets 30 percent of its total volume in shipping through North Carolina. Direct highway linkage would improve the port’s competitive advantage.

Our planners have ignored this opportunity because they plan in response to existing traffic patterns. Thinking more strategically about transportation could cast the now light traffic between Hampton Roads and Raleigh in a new light.

High-Speed Rail ‘ the Next Interstate?
We are doing something correctly in the present. And that is the commitment regional leaders are showing to being part of the proposed high-speed rail system down the East Coast. Leaders understand that being left out of this line would be comparable to being left out of the Interstate highway system in the 20th century or the railroad system in the 19th century.

The decision by the General Assembly this year to award $25 million for initial planning of a high-speed line down the Route 460 corridor from Petersburg is wonderful news.

How can we ensure that this high-speed rail system does not pass us by?

I suggest playing the military card as strongly as possible. Navy and business leaders should argue as a team that a high-speed line must connect to the country’s largest naval base. After all, defense concerns justified the Interstate highway system. If a major war occurred, high-speed train connections could be vital for moving troops and supplies. Can the cooperation of Navy officials be gained now?

And Hampton Roads should be part of the main line’not a spur. That’s why the 460 path might be better than a route down the Peninsula, because it would be easier for the line to continue south to North Carolina.

The point with all these choices is that we can build better places to live if we think about transportation more consciously and understand its effects. It is the most important tool we have for shaping our environment. If we learn to use it more effectively, we’ll have a more livable and prosperous region.

ALEX MARSHALL, A FORMER STAFF WRITER FOR THE VIRGINIAN-PILOT, IS A LOEB FELLOW AT HARVARD UNIVERSITY’S GRADUATE SCHOOL OF DESIGN. HIS FIRST BOOK, HOW CITIES WORK: SUBURBS, SPRAWL AND THE ROADS NOT TAKEN, WILL BE PUBLISHED THIS YEAR. MARSHALL SPECIALIZES IN WRITING ABOUT URBAN PLANNING ISSUES. THIS ESSAY WAS FIRST PUBLISHED AS THE INAUGURAL EDITION OF “THE JOSEPH PAPERS,” A PROJECT BY THE JOSEPH CENTER FOR THE STUDY OR LOCAL, STATE AND REGIONAL GOVERNMENT AT CHRISTOPHER NEWPORT UNIVERSITY IN NEWPORT NEWS.

 

Who Gets the Favors?

The Virginian-Pilot
Monday, July 19, 1999
BY ALEX MARSHALL

New ways of looking how we grow and develop are rare. But I think I’ve found one. It’s the “favored quarter” theory.

Myron Orfield, a state representative from Minneapolis, talks about it in his book, Metropolitics, (Brookings 1998).

In every metropolitan area, Orfield says, there is usually one chunk of the region that is receiving the lion’s share of private investment. Here is where the expensive new homes are going, the new offices and the new shopping centers.

Orfield calls it “The Favored Quarter.”

Now here’s the kicker . Not only is this favored quarter getting most of the private investment, it’s also getting most of the public investment. Here is where is going the lion’s share of new roads, sewers, schools and libraries.

Does Hampton Roads have “a favored quarter?” I think so, although perhaps it’s more like a favored edge. On the Southside, it starts in Sandbridge around Pungo, goes up by the Municipal center, past Stumpy Lake into Chesapeake, and then on into Suffolk.

Here is where the fat McMansions are being built in spanking new subdivisions, here is where the state and city are spending millions of dollars widening two lane roads into four and six-lanes with medians and turn lanes. This is where the Chesapeake City Council is debating whether to extend sewer service — after just spending millions on the Oak Grove Connector.

It would be interesting to see just how many dollars The Edge is receiving in public dollars, compared to the rest of South Hampton Roads. How much public investment have places like Bayside and Norview seen in past decades?

Well, so what, you might ask? You naturally spend public money to try to catch up with all that private growth, right?

Actually, it’s just the opposite. Everything we spend on new roads, sewers and services promotes the very growth we are trying to “catch up” to. In actuality, we are subsidizing growth in one area, at the expense of all the rest of the region. It’s as if the favored quarter has managed to rig up the game at everyone else’s expense, Orfield says.

“These (favored) quarters are developing suburban areas that have mastered the art of skimming off the cream of metropolitan growth, while accepting as few metropolitan responsibilities as possible,” Orfield said in an article in Two Cities magazine.

In an interview from his home in Minneapolis, Orfield said that every metropolitan area has a favored quarter. The King of Prussia suburbs outside Philadelphia, for example, represents 20 percent of the households but is get 80 percent of the growth, he said.

It goes beyond just roads and sewers. Favored quarters, Orfield said, tend to keep out lower-income people with large-lot zoning and other measures. Only the richest gain entrance. With such policies, the favored quarters are able to actually decrease their social costs and while their tax bases increase.

Take a step back, and we can see that favoring one quarter over others is the wrong way to plan growth. It encourages metropolitan areas to develop “new rings” of growth, causing “old rings” to decline, Orfield says.

Others are focusing on the same dynamic. A study in Baltimore showed that the number of new schools built in the outer suburbs were equal to the number torn down in the inner city, a Sierra club official said at the Smart Growth meeting last week.

The alternative to a favored quarter is to spend your infrastructure dollars where people already live.

Private investment follows public investment. Build big roads in the middle of nowhere, and pretty soon you’ll have shopping malls and subdivisions. Build rail lines, bike paths, recreation centers and maintain what you already have, and pretty soon you’ll have renovated strip shopping centers and young couples adding additions onto old homes.

In this light, we can see why the proposed Southeastern Parkway between Chesapeake and Virginia Beach is such a bad idea. Right in the middle of the Edge, our “Favored Quarter,” we would plant a massive highway, thus greatly expanding the growth that already exists.

From this light, we can see why the light rail line between Virginia Beach and Norfolk is such a good thing. It spends our tax dollars where people already live, and so stabilizes and lifts up an area that might otherwise decay. Not to mention making the resort’s July 4 planning a lot easier.

Do we have a “favored quarter?” And how do we start passing the favors around more evenly?


Whither Virginia Beach?

FOR PORT FOLIO MAGAZINE
THURSDAY, JULY 1, 1999
BY ALEX MARSHALL

Virginia Beach. The promised land.

It glistens in the sun, a shimmering mecca of backyards, beaches, prosperity and space. A wide open terrain where schools are good and crime is low, a destination, a place to start a life or fulfill one.

It still has that reputation to many, even as the city enters its 37th year and faces trend lines that dispute much of what I just said.

But looking out over the city’s many square miles, that easy optimistic view still has the ring of truth. You see the old grid of streets and homes on the North End, basking in the ocean air and sun, with their gentle, Nantucket-like charm. You see the prosperous resort, hauling in the bucks even while it nicely segregates its often tacky guests and attractions. You see Bob Dylan boogieing at the amphitheater, and kids bowling and swimming at recreation centers that resemble public country clubs. You see Kempsville, a land easy to make fun of as epitomizing suburban vapidity, but fundamentally a place where Filipinos, African-Americans, whites, Jews and Gentiles can all make a life.

But focus the telescope on different places, and you see a different city and future. In this view, you see simple suburban ranch houses around Green Run, Lynnhaven, Hilltop, Bayside and Princess Anne Plaza, their paint fading, the vinyl siding getting moldy, the homeowners converting to renters, and the property values flat or in decline. You see more people leaving the city then moving into it. You see neighborhoods resembling those of Los Angeles, in that they are purely suburban, yet problem ridden and dangerous. You see places where the mother will not walk half-block to the 7-Eleven by herself after dark for fear of being robbed. You see areas where kids with little adult supervision roam across yards, parking lots and roads like marauding tribes. You see a city that is very much part of a region where incomes lag well behind the national average.

Where is Virginia Beach going? The city is on the cusp, at the point of either heading down hill or working out some new trajectory that will keep it, and perhaps the region, a nice place to live.

For most of its life, the city’s biggest appeal has been what it is not: It was not Norfolk, with its declining schools, racial problems, high crime and sagging tax base. Not Portsmouth or Newport News.

The era of Virginia Beach exceptionalism is ending. It has roughly 440,000 people — roughly equal to Norfolk and Chesapeake put together. About 40 percent of the population of the Southside. There is no way something that big can be vastly different than the average.

Virginia Beach used to be richer and whiter than the rest of the region. It is much less so now.

“It used to be different, from demographic to social to economic,” said one planner. “But because it has matured, it has become more like the regional whole.”

It is still the same old Virginia Beach in one respect: It is a gigantic bedroom community, something city leaders loathe to admit. Of the 213,000 Virginia Beach residents who work, almost 100,000 do so outside city borders, according to stats from the Hampton Roads Planning District Commission.

This is a huge number. It’s even bigger in significance when you realize that these people are mostly traveling to the Naval Base, to downtown, to the shipyards in Portsmouth — jobs that drive the rest of economy. These jobs bring in money from outside that can be then spent on lawyers, doctors, newspapers, department stores, homes and all the other commercial and business activity. Without them, the rest of us are out of luck.

What this means is that Virginia Beach is still largely dependent on events outside its own borders. It’s only independent tax base is the resort, which is a good one, but not enough to support 400,000 people.

Virginia Beach’s future is deeply linked with the rest of the region. Even if the city attempts to “go it alone,” it will have deep implications for its neighbors.

As we approach 2000, I see Virginia Beach juggling a collection of political factions, any of which might manage to grab the wheel of the city and steer for awhile: Anti-tax folks. Pro-sprawlers. Light rail advocates. Regionalists. Go-it-aloners.

Here are a few possible futures for Virginia Beach, my hometown.

“REZONINGS FOR YOUR FRIENDS.”

Dean Block, the resident sage of city hall as well as the director of the city’s office of management and budget, once wrote a history of Virginia Beach that packaged its trajectory into four distinct epochs.

1968 to 1985 was probably the most interesting. This was the era where Virginia Beach grew by several hundred thousand people, often without rhyme or reason. The city’s leadership in that era, Block said, made a deal with voters. “The politicians promised to keep taxes artificially low, if in exchange they would be allowed rezone property for their friends,” Block said.

During this era, the city leaped across Rudee Inlet Bridge, across Holland Road and down to the edge of the municipal center. It left the city with a huge hangover — which voters sought to correct when they elected several anti-growth council members in 1986 that shifted the balance on council.

Starting with that council, the city started playing catch-up — and largely succeeded. Voters approved bond referendums to widen roads, build schools, libraries and recreation centers. The council tastefully renovated the resort strip. The council held the Green Line, and passed the agricultural reserve program, which helps preserve land for farming.

That era, Block said, ended about a few years ago. Now, the city is working out a new trajectory, a path to the future, a path of maturity. Several options exist for this future.

Although Block didn’t say it, one that looms is a return to “rezonings for your friends.” In the past few months, the city staff and council have backed a series of actions that signal the city, armed with Lake Gaston water, may resume fierce outward growth. The council approved the extension of Ferrell Parkway down to Sandbridge, despite environmental objections. City staff considered, and then backed off, from recommending removing the agricultural reserve program from “the transition era,” the land north of Indian River road that many developers are eyeing.

The city has recently elected two council members that are much more friendly to outward residential development, Margaret Eure and Don Weeks. Both recently attended a meeting of rural land owners and developers seeking to develop more property and depose Councilwoman Barbara Henley, whose priority has been protecting farmland.

This could be bad news for the city. More outward growth would eat up farm land, incur more infrastructure costs, make traffic worse by extending sprawl, and push housing values down within the rest of the city. Of course, it would also make a few developers and property owners a lot of money, so we know the vote will be close.

INWARD, NOT OUTWARD.

Contrasting to a return to outward growth is a coalition of sorts, an interesting combination of environmentalists and business leaders, that advocate growing inward. They are also generally the same ones talking about greater regionalism.

Under this path, the city commits money to the light rail system. It not only holds the Green Line, but works for regional growth control. It starts spending its infrastructure dollars where most of the people live, on new sidewalks, parks and other amenities, rather than on new roads and sewers out in Sandbridge and around the courthouse. It starts filling in some of the blank spaces that sit beside perfectly good highways already built. At last estimate, almost 10,000 acres of developed land sat above the city’s Green Line.

Michael Barrett, a city and regional business leader, said growing inward is why the light rail line is such a key question.

“Light rail makes the city look at itself and figure out who it wants to become,” Barrett said. In Barrett’s view, not much opportunity is left for development outward.

“Future development may mean redevelopment,” Barrett said. Light rail would help develop Pembroke, Lynnhaven and the resort into much richer, denser and higher tax-paying areas. He sees “nodes of development” that would pay more taxes and allow for different life styles at the beach.

Such a community, said Jan Eliassen, who recently stepped down from the Planning Commission, would fit with the city’s vision of a place where everyone could live.

“We don’t have as many different communities as the different communities need, from college graduates to empty nesters,” Eliassen said. “The kind of community we ought to design is a place where some of people can walk to work, some can walk to school, some can walk to shopping, and all of them can walk to reliable public transportation.”

The different communities plan would help balance the city’s largely monochromatic lifestyle choice. Some people love Virginia Beach but others hate it.

Andres Duany, the sharp-tongued New Urbanist architect, shocked Virginia Beach leaders a few years back when he called the city “a laboratory of failure for the East Coast.” When people told friends they were moving to Virginia Beach, the immediate response was “Oh, that’s too bad,” Duany said.

The city has never liked admitting this. But for many people, Virginia Beach is the last place on earth they would live. Developing some different types of communities would help change this.

LEAN AND MEAN

The most effective political force in the last half decade in Virginia Beach has been the anti-tax, anti-establishment folk that have pushed for less government, less services and of course, less taxes. This somewhat well organized group, led by former City Councilman Robert Dean and his Citizens Action Coalition, helped kill a bond initiative that would have supported better schools and libraries. They got the council to reverse themselves and kill a tiny new phone tax for a similar purpose.

They are a force to be reckoned with. Although the city’s taxes are some of the lowest in the region, and its services some of the best, they have evidently hit a nerve with their argument to the contrary.

Under their vision, Virginia Beach would become a bare bones, self-service city, where you check your own bags and bus your own tables. No more soccer stadiums, amphitheaters, recreation centers and the like. No more “entertainment.” In their view, Virginia Beach has been buying luxuries before it spent on the basics like schools. The city needs to get its priorities straight.

While there is some truth in this perspective, in my view they would cut flesh as well as fat. They also do not understand that economic success is based on government investment. Things like roads, schools, rail lines and maybe even things like recreation centers and amphitheaters. Dean, for example, voted against the agricultural reserve program, despite his credentials as a long-time environmentalist, because it involved a sales-tax increase.

When I asked Dean whether economic prosperity depended on government investment, he didn’t seem to understand the question.

“Under that scenario, we are breading a whole new type of society that expects government to take care of them from womb to tomb,” Dean said. “You have removed self reliance.”

How is building a road or a train line removing self-reliance?

If he were running the city, Dean said, his priority would be better schools. But he wouldn’t allow for new taxes to fund them. It’s true that more money won’t necessarily improve schools. But at some point, you have to grapple with the fact that public investment in a range of things is necessary to create a prosperous and balanced society.

Dean, for example, excoriated suburbanites who neglected their children in order to be able to afford two nice cars. People should consider living with just one car, he said, like they did back in the 1950s.

Well, would you support the type of public transportation that made living like that possible, I asked him, such as better bus service or the light rail line?

No.

“There is no reason that my gas tax should subsidize people to ride light rail,” Dean said, even though he freely acknowledged that car driving itself was massively subsidized already.

Dean also criticized the new companies the city had brought in, like Geico and Avis, as essentially being low-paying call centers. True enough. But beyond improving education — without new taxes — he had no plan for bringing in better companies. He did advocate eliminating the Economic Development department.

If Dean and his brethren get a majority, I see a not very pleasant future. I see a city that would become a place of haves and haves not, where the wealthy hole up in Bay Colony and Great Neck, send their kids to Norfolk Academy, and leave the increasing chaotic Baysides, Kempsvilles and Lynnhavens to fend for themselves.

EMBRACING THE WHOLE

Virginia Beach’s official vision is its “Community for a Lifetime” statement. It’s a bland, PR-ish statement, full of assertions no one could disagree with. Still, as these things go, it has its merits.

Everyone should be able to live in Virginia Beach, it basically says, for all their lives. It should be a place where one children’s can stick around and get good jobs, and where one’s parents can retire.

“That vision is one of an incredible place — a community where you would want to spend the rest of your life,” said Mayor Meyera Oberndorf in a recent speech. The vision, the mayor said, means making the city safe, prosperous and healthy.

Well, hard to disagree with that.

And “Visionary.” Which means thinking strategically about city growth and priorities, she said. Right on. It means accepting that quality of life costs money in taxes. Double Right on. It means acknowledging you can’t do everything at once.

Right on again.

The problem is, few city leaders, including Oberndorf, acknowledge the steps necessary to complete their vision.

If you want to be a Community for a Lifetime, you need to provide a way for a 70-year-old woman with declining eyesight to get around without a car. Or for a young family to live without two cars. But city leaders have been hostile to light rail, which might do this.

There’s another problem with the city’s vision, as told by the mayor. Oberndorf never mentions the word “Norfolk.”

Why should she, you might ask? Well, perhaps because Virginia Beach’s prosperity depends on it.

What is located in Norfolk? A huge port, with both commercial and military activities. Without it, this whole region would evaporate.

If you depend on something for your life’s blood, shouldn’t you mention it when you are figuring out a vision for your city? Shouldn’t you figure out how to keep it healthy? If you can’t stand to say the word “Norfolk,” at least say the word “port.”

No dice. Virginia Beach is basically embarrassed that it still largely dependent on economic activity outside the city, and doesn’t want to admit it.

Not a good policy.

The mayor’s speech, and the official policy it represents, shows the tension between the city’s desire to be its own master, and the realities of its interconnectedness with everyone else. A coalition has emerged that argue the city should embrace regionalism, but they run up against the city’s long history of seeing little gain from working with anyone else.

If this changed, Virginia Beach might actually to work not only for the health of the port, but to improve the fortunes of Norfolk’s downtown. With a great downtown, a company would be more likely to move to a corporate office park in Virginia Beach.

Look at Portland. All the great new high-tech companies are not moving to the center city. They are moving to the suburban communities out on the fringes, like Beaverton and Hillsboro. But these places have a symbiotic relationship with the Portland downtown.

The great Portland center city makes the area very attractive to workers, which attracts great companies. The companies might locate ON THE LIGHT RAIL LINE in the suburbs, where they can build a low-rise campus-style office park, but their employees enjoy traveling downtown and might even live there.

But here, no dice. Both sides see the other a threat. If we were really smart, we would start rewriting tax laws so taxes from companies would be spread more equitably.

What would the future look like if Virginia Beach realized it had more to gain from regionalism than to fear from it?

Virginia Beach might take the lead in regional growth management because it recognizes that as a mature city, it has an interest in restraining outward sprawl, and pushing development inward. Virginia Beach would help establish a regional vision, where the various regional parts play clear roles. Downtown with its role as regional center, with sports stadium and urban living and cultural resources; the outer suburbs with opportunities for green-lawn living and amenities like soccer stadiums and amphitheaters; the resort, which with light rail would have a symbiotic relationship with downtown; the rural areas, that can provide good vegetables and open vistas to the suburban and urban dwellers.

With almost half the population of the Southside, it’s clear that if Virginia Beach has a lot of weight to throw around.

“I’ve never understood why Virginia Beach wasn’t the leading proponent for regionalism,” said Eliassen. “They would be in the driver’s seat, because they got the votes. I don’t understand what they are afraid of. They are the political gorilla of the region, but they act like the cowardly lion.”

Eliassen is willing to think about what most people won’t even mention: merging the three cities on one side of the water — Chesapeake, Virginia Beach and Norfolk — into one city.

“They are one city in reality, and they ought to be one city politically,” Eliassen said.

GOING IT ALONE

Since its birth, Virginia Beach has insisted that it is a “real city,” not just a bedroom community thank you. It has resented the lack of respect it has gotten from both the region and the rest of the world. When big-name New York Times writer R.W. “Johnny” Apple visited the area recently, he respectfully used the “Hampton Roads” moniker but, in describing the region’s charms, said scarcely a word about Virginia Beach other than a brief mention of its Contemporary Arts Center.

Virginia Beach does not like this. In this scenario, the regionalists fail and Virginia Beach strives to be an independent, self-sufficient city. It drops out of the light rail system. It goes its own way on recycling, jails, schools, social services, housing. At each of these intersections, it goes it alone. It only cooperates on the one thing it needs to keep life going as usual in Virginia Beach: more roads.

This is not such a great vision, either for Virginia Beach or the region. The city of VB will do okay at first, but gradually, the structural inadequacies will start to mount up. Deprived of Virginia Beach’s resources, the region will start to do more poorly, which will eventually pull down Virginia Beach as well. The region will not have a united front on economic development, or a coherent regional strategy on growth, the environment or transportation. Virginia Beach may get its share of the wealthy, but will not get the higher income jobs that lead to a more prosperous city.

The anti-tax folks are big go-it-aloners. Dean talked of cooperating with neighboring cities to get bulk discounts on “computers or textbooks,” but not much cooperation in larger ways.

WHICH WAY?

Some of these paths are mutually exclusive. Some are not.

The present City Council is steering a course between the shoals of the pro-growth councils of the early 1980s, and the no-tax constituents of the present. All this could change. The anti-tax folk, sometimes allied with the powerful Republican party, are banging at the door. Developers and home-builders are pushing to return to rural-area growth.

The future depends on who makes it to the ballot box.

We will see.


Urban Renewal in Norfolk

What Was Lost: A lot.
What Was Gained: Not Much.

BY ALEX MARSHALL
Tuesday, August 10, 1999

The 1950s was about new stuff, not old stuff. The United States had spent two decades postponing consumption as it fought the Great Depression and then World War II. It was ready for new cars, houses, roads and ways of doing things. With a vengeance.

It was in this spirit that from 1949 into the early 1960s, Norfolk proceeded to tear down most of the buildings and streets built over the previous 275 years. A city founded in 1680 was left with little built before 1900. Cities around the country followed its example.

When the dust had ettled in the early 1960s, old East Main Street, lined with burlesque houses and bars, was gone. Gone was the original Commercial Place, where stevedores and merchants traded drinks in ancient taverns while they waited for ships to unload. Gone were the central city markets, where dozens of produce, dairy, meat and fish merchants sold their wares at small stands under mammoth roofs. Gone was the city’s old Union Station near the Elizabeth River, where travelers stepped off trains into the heart of the city. Gone was the entire neighborhood of Atlantic City. Gone was the city’s oldest core, a tight web of streets dating back to the city’s founding.

But the city didn’t just tear stuff down. In the place of the old, the city built: wide new roads, like St. Pauls Boulevard, Tidewater Drive, Virginia Beach Boulevard extension, Brambleton Avenue and the interstates; housing projects, including Roberts Park, Diggs Park, Young Park, Grandy Village, Bowling Park and others, which now ring downtown; new civic buildings, including a new City Hall, jail and courts complex, which would sit on a plaza nestled by freeway on-ramps; and vast windswept parking lots, where city officials would wait — and wait — for promised new investment to materialize.

How did the city afford all this? With lots and lots of nearly free federal money. Norfolk was first to take advantage of the 1949 Federal Housing Act, which paid 80 percent of urban renewal and gave cities new legal powers to take private property. The country had just finished winning a world war, and was ready to attempt and pay for drastic changes, even if a few eggs were broken to make this particular omelet.

Norfolk’s fervor in urban renewal traces back to its concept of “slums” and the city’s passion to get rid of them.

Even before World War II, city leaders looked out from the old City Hall and saw crumbling buildings with poor residents with few options. Many structures were wooden, and lacked indoor plumbing. A 1936 survey by the WPA showed that of 954 dwellings in on area between Monticello and Church Street (now St. Pauls Boulevard), 900 of them lacked flush toilets. About a third of the homes were in need of “major repair.”

Other buildings were more solid, made of brick and stone. But these were used for things city fathers weren’t proud of, like bar and burlesque shows. Of course, there were also family restaurants, hotels, tailors and offices, but these old-style establishments were not seen as anything special worth saving when a brand new city, one of highways, shopping malls and civic buildings, could be created.

Discussion of creating a housing authority was active in the 1930s. Finally in 1940, the City Council overcame its longtime resistance and created the Norfolk Housing Authority, after the Navy swung behind the effort. Lawrence M. Cox, who would lead the authority for almost three decades, would become its first executive director. This organization, later renamed the Norfolk Redevelopment and Housing Authority, would lead the way, and still does, in the city’s effort to reinvent itself.

But before the city could do much, World War II intervened. Downtown would deteriorate even further as thousands of sailors and civilian workers flooded its streets and swamped its housing. City leaders greatly disliked the reputation the city earned as one giant honky-tonk.

After the war, Norfolk was the first city in the country to have an urban renewal plan approved under the new Federal Housing Act. The city received $25 million in 1949 to build 3000 units of public housing. In 1951, the city proceeded to clear 127 acres of land between Monticello and Church Street, now St. Paul’s Boulevard. In 1953, another major slum clearance project was announced.

As the decade proceeded, city leaders fell in love with the bulldozer. In projects beginning in 1949, 1951,1953, 1957, 1958, 1961 the City Council, through its creation the Norfolk Redevelopment and Housing Authority, ripped out dozens of streets, knocked down hundreds of buildings and evicted thousands of families from their homes. At the same time, it built new highways, new civic buildings, and new public housing.

Under then Mayor Duckworth, the city would announce a clearance project or an expansion of a current one almost every year. In 1957, the City Council approved the destruction of Atlantic City, a relatively stable neighborhood, that used to exist around the midtown tunnel entrance and underneath the medical complex. In the same year, the city would commence clearance of the central core of the city, which would lead to the construction of a new City Hall, courts complex and jail. These renewal efforts would also create the famous blank “17 acres,” which would stay empty for 35 years before the MacArthur Center was built.

By the mid 1960s, most of downtown, with the exception of Freemason, Granby Street and part of Main Street, had been cleared.

With almost a half century’s perspective, what can be said about the city’s vast urban renewal effort?

Given the benefit of hindsight, it’s clear the city went too far, too fast. City leaders had envisioned a new city of freeways and plenty of parking that would compete with the suburbs. Instead, the destruction of the older networks of streets and buildings would accelerate the migration of retail activity to the suburbs. The passion to build big highways and freeways made mass transit less workable and made downtown, in comparison to the easy-parking suburbs, less viable.

While initial projects in the early 1950s had focused on crumbling wooden shacks beyond repair, later efforts of that decade would tear down scores of pre Civil War buildings of brick and stone, many dating back to the 1800s. These could have formed a base for tourism and downtown residential living.

Frederick Herman, an architect who served on the city’s design review board during this period, said the city tore down numerous treasures. In retrospect, Herman said, it’s clear the city’s wholesale clearance was the wrong approach.

“Norfolk probably had as many 18th century and early 19th century buildings as Georgetown,” Herman said in an interview in 1996. “And they were basically intact until the early 50s. Some were rundown, but a lot of them could have been rehabilitated.”

True, the city would gain a rebuilt Main Street lined with tax-paying office skyscrapers. But under a different plan, these might have emerged elsewhere while keeping the waterfront intact.

The city also lost less tangible things, like its historical memory. Norfolk not only tore down buildings, but erased ancient streets, dating back to the city’s founding. No longer could someone walk downtown, and remember at a glance where they or their forefathers came from.

But the 1950s were a different time. Norfolk’s old downtown homes, like those that still exist in Freemason, had been abandoned by the upper classes for two generations. The prosperous set had long moved out to fashionable Ghent, Park Place, Colonial Place and other new streetcar suburbs. Historical preservation was a tiny idea. Few people imagined a time when a young lawyer or business person would pay dearly for the privilege of living in a crumbling 18th century house with bad plumbing.

And Norfolk was certainly not alone in its love of destruction. Almost every city in the country pursued urban renewal. Like Norfolk, these cities often erased buildings and streets of great historical and economic value. It’s was a sign of the times that New York, New Orleans and Alexandria considered Greenwich Village, the French Quarter and Alexandria’s Old Town as candidates for urban renewal.

Savannah, whose historic district now attracts six million visitors a year, began tearing it down under urban renewal in the 1950s. This city of Spanish moss hanging over graceful squares has since been made famous in movies like Forrest Gump and books like Midnight in The Garden of Good and Evil. But in the 1950s, like in Norfolk, its leaders envisioned a new city of skyscrapers and freeways. Only a backlash by prominent citizens saved most of the city’s unique structure of homes around squares, although some were lost.

It’s tempting to think what Norfolk and other cities would look like if the federal government had given money to renovate old buildings and improve mass transit, as well as for tearing buildings down and building new highways. What if Norfolk had improved its trolley system, and given grants for landlords to repair and renovate their properties?

But that was not to be.

Only after downtown urban renewal was over, would the city began trying to recreate new things in the style of what it had torn down. The new townhouses on Boush Street being built now, for example, mimic the urban homes that once lined Freemason and other streets downtown.

Historically, urban renewal remains a brief, although consequential, period in the history of American cities. By the mid 1960s, urban planners would start to turn against it. Jane Jacobs would startle planners by praising the traditional city street. Scholars would label urban renewal “Negro removal,” because of the thousands of poor, usually black families removed from their homes. In Norfolk in the 1960s, attorney and later judge Joe Jordan denounced urban renewal as racist. In the 1990s, Milwaukee is following the lead of some other cities in trying to tear down some of the highways built during the urban renewal era and rebuild a city of streets, mass transit and walking.

Norfolk was and is unusual in that it started urban renewal early, and has continued it long after it has lost fashion nationally. In the late 1960s and early 1970s, the city tore down and rebuilt virtually all of Ghent east of Colonial Avenue, moving thousands of black families from their homes. In the present day, the city is clearing a section of East Ocean View, and in the process evicting roughly a thousand families, in an attempt to build a new, more prosperous neighborhood.

For better and for worse, Norfolk continues to believe in the power of the bulldozer.

Old Resort City Of Virginia Beach Now More Welcoming

FIRST PUBLISHED IN 1993
by Alex Marshall

When was the last time a city offered you a seat? If your town is like most towns, not recently. The public bench, once a common piece of furniture in a city’s living room, has declined in number and significance along with the public spaces it once graced.

In the resort town of Virginia Beach, it is making a comeback after a long absence. As part of an overall renovation, the city has planted teak benches at regular intervals along the 40-block strip.

A minor thing, you might say, but 25-years ago, the city ripped them all out to discourage hippies, then making their appearance, from lounging around the town’s sidewalks and beachfront. For the same reason, the city also regularly arrested people for loitering.

“If you had 10 long-hairs standing together for any reason, people got alarmed,” remembers Police Captain Jim Brazier, who used to herd people along outside the Carol Lee Donut Shop on 22nd Street, a main hippie hang out. “They were big on that then. You had to keep moving.”

The old benches, although nothing special, had a certain charm. They were blocks of concrete, with painted planks running between them, and advertisements for things like “Mary Jane Bread” along their backs. They sat along Atlantic Avenue, the resort’s main drag, and the boardwalk by the beach, just as the new ones do. The new benches are part of a $50 million renovation that emphasizes the resort as a public space. People are encouraged to walk, to stroll, to loiter. It’s an amazingly daring action for an at-times such a tacky town. Sidewalks have been widened, telephone lines put underground, and small public squares with street art like giant beach balls created from formerly dead-end side streets. Now, like flowers responding to the right kind of dirt, sidewalk cafes are popping up.

One wishes the city been more daring in the design. The benches’s neo, faux Victorian curves, for example, match those of the neo, faux Victorian street lamps. They remind you of the ones in parts of New York that suggest the city is some kind of quaint museum.

But cut Virginia Beach some slack. The city planted the benches over the objections of politically-powerful hotel, souvenir shop, and restaurant owners. They feared benches might distract visitors from their central task of playing putt-putt golf, and buying seashells and $6 breakfasts. Already, the city has thinned the number of benches in a few blocks, after merchants complained that teenagers were grouping up around them. Still, there is hope. Fort Lauderdale, another beach town, recently renovated its resort along similar lines as Virginia Beach. Sidewalks were spruced up and a new brick walkway put along the beach front. It’s a turn away from the city’s encouragement of private, locked-gated condominium towers. Such actions increase the chance that, next time you stroll, a city might be hospitable enough to offer you a place to sit down.


New Suffolk Courthouse: Will it Revive Downtown?

By Alex Marshall
For The Virginian-Pilot

SUFFOLK — This handsome new courthouse of brick and stone that sits on Main Street is one answer to the question: how do we revive this city’s downtown?

Is it the right answer? This city’s center, with two-hundred years of history, was once a bustling place. Now, like Norfolk’s Granby Street and Portsmouth’s High Street, it has declined. All of these city’s main streets are shadows of their former selves, even though there are signs of life on all of them in the form of new businesses amid the vacant storefronts.

Built at a cost of $14 million, the new courthouse works with a new omprehensive plan meant to bring back downtown and manage growth in the suburbs. The courthouse adds 150 or so new bodies to Main Street, while a downtown plan is talking of doing things like carving in new streets, and turning an old high school into a civic center.

Will it work? To make a good prediction, we need to understand where the growth that fuels Suffolk’s booming suburbs comes from, and how it fits into the growth of the region. For it is finally only by understanding the region’s growth, and working with it, that Suffolk can hope to reshape its downtown into the vital, active community it once was.

Suffolk has lessons everyone can learn from. Its struggle to revive downtown is Norfolk’s and Portsmouth’s, while it’s struggle to manage growth is Virginia Beach’s and Chesapeake’s. In understanding how both are interrelated, the region can better understand how to shape itself.

THE CITY’S PLAN What does a courthouse have to do with downtown’s health? The idea is that the 150 to 175 workers in the courthouse will shop on Main Street, and buy lunch there, as will the defendants, lawyers, plaintiffs, reporters and everyone else that makes their way to a courthouse, whether by choice or command. At the same time, new sidewalks, new street lamps and benches make Main Street a more inviting place to be.

Does this work? Sure it does, and you can already see downtown changing. Several new stores have opened on Main Street, including a bookstore, a restaurant, a newsstand and a cappuccino bar.

The city has also followed this up with changes of which the other cities might take heed. Over the initial squeamishness of VDOT, it restored parallel parking on Main Street. This converts a semi-highway back into a public street. VDOT’s only requirement was that they continue to allow southbound traffic after 4.30 p.m. during rush hour, to which the city agreed.

This is something that other cities can look at. Many have still not realized that there is a conflict between moving cars quickly and creating an environment where storefronts can prosper. In most streets downtown, the priority should be on the latter.

Norfolk in particular could do a lot more in this direction. It’s downtown is littered with unnecessary left-turn lanes and other devises that take up parking lanes. On Main, Plume and City Hall avenues, the city could substantially expand on-street parking without seriously damaging traffic flow. It should be a top priority for the widened Church Street. This would give on-street businesses more parking spaces, and would alert passerby’s that these streets really are meant for shopping and strolling.

What else would Suffolk do? The downtown plan calls for carving in some new streets so that dead-end streets will now go through, and the street grid will be more complete. Because of railroad lines and topography, Suffolk has a fractured street system. It’s to the credit of the downtown plan, developed by UDA of Pittsburgh and its leader Ray Gindroz, that it focuses on this often-overlooked aspect of a center city’s health. By cutting through some new streets, and connecting unconnected ones, the city could bring new life to otherwise becalmed areas.

In addition, the downtown plans for turning the city’s old high school into a civic center, and renovating the old train station. Both of these are good ideas, but they will not provide a foundation for a revitalized downtown. Other means are necessary for that.

Rather than convert the high school, a wonderful old building, into a civic center, why not convert it back into a school? Suffolk schools are straining to find space for their students. Norfolk has shown with both Maury High School and Granby High School, now under renovation, that old schools can be rehabilitated and fully meet city and state codes, including the Americans with Disability Acts. Other localities around the country have made great strides in this regard. Maryland in particular has led the way in this regard. It makes no sense for Suffolk to build new schools out in the country, when a fine one in the city sits vacant.

How does the new Courthouse’s design rate? It’s an imposing building, as a courthouse should be, with sharp corners and trim that echoes older, more formal civic buildings. Its most admirable feature is that its designers had the guts to build it directly on the sidewalk, in line with the other buildings on Main Street. This completes the walls that form the living room of downtown. If the building had been set back, even by a few feet, the vibrancy and intimate feel of downtown would have been diminished. With luck, it could become a building that is still cherished and loved 100 years from now. That’s the kind of buildings we need more of.

But a new courthouse, new sidewalks, lights and benches, and even new streets and a civic center can only do so much. For downtown to fully revive, the growth patterns of the entire region have to be understood, and then the city’s policies changed so that some of this growth goes into Suffolk’s downtown and center city neighborhoods.

SUFFOLK AND THE REGION Suffolk now is a satellite city of Hampton Roads. Although it has some industry, most notably Planters Peanuts, Suffolk is not self-sufficient in jobs and industry but depends on the more industrial cities of Newport News, Portsmouth and Norfolk to give its residents jobs. Or perhaps another way to say it is that job creators in these cities give Suffolk new residents.

We can see this trend in the data on employment and residential growth in Suffolk and the region. From 1980 to 1993, Suffolk actually lost jobs on a net basis, according to city planning statistics. But it’s total population actually grew steadily over this time period.

Where should the new residents go? In answering that question, Suffolk decides the fate of its downtown. If Suffolk puts all the new residents in new suburban housing miles outside downtown, then downtown will remain a tired place. If on, the otherhand, Suffolk limits development opportunities in the suburbs, forcing both residents and developers to look to the inner-city, then its downtown neighborhoods and eventually businesses should re-emerge as well. New houses would be built on vacant lots, new businesses on parking lots and old houses fixed up.

To reinvigorate downtown, Suffolk needs to start pushing some of its housing demand back to the center. It can do this not only by limiting rezonings in farm land, but by also ignoring calls for new roads or improved roads outside town. Every new road built or expanded leads to more suburban housing outside town.

All this points to the inter-connectedness of the region. If the Navy cuts personnel drastically from Norfolk, for example, you can bet that new housing starts in Suffolk will decline as well. It also points the need for regional growth planning and management. It makes no sense for new jobs in Virginia Beach or Norfolk to boost housing starts in Suffolk and Chesapeake, with no city having complete say over where the jobs go or where the houses go.

POLICY STEPS If Suffolk wants to accompany its new courthouse with more complete steps to revive downtown, it can consider some of the following steps. Some of these actions the city has already considered.

*Sharply limit suburban development on the fringes of the developed area, particularly in the high growth areas in the Northeast and Northwest. The city has taken some steps to do this in the new Comprehensive Plan, which calls for stopping development in the South, and limiting it in the North.

But it needs to do more. Taming development in the rural south is a paper lion, because there isn’t much growth pressure there anyway. Why? Because it’s too far away from the jobs in Norfolk and Portsmouth. The North is booming because that’s where the easy commutes are. That’s also where Suffolk has to act if it wants to retain some form for its city.

A consultant’s report, used to prepare the Comprehensive Plan, recognized this dynamic. The report said bluntly that new residential and commercial development, whose nature and location compete with downtown, will continue to sap its strength.

Steve Herbert, the assistant city manager for development, agreed that the city’s downtown health was dependent on curtailing development elsewhere. Herbert said ultimately the city might have to look at some form of downzoning, in order to scale back some of the 24,000 houses that have already been zoned.

These are some of the hard questions the councils has to deal with, Herbert said. Downzoning is a possibility, but it’s a very difficult issue. We’ll probably have to have other ways to deal with it.

Although Virginia courts have traditionally frowned on downzoning, they have not prohibited it entirely. Rather, they have insisted that it be applied uniformly and in accordance with broad public goals. That might fit in Suffolk.

Suffolk could also consider clustering development around existing village centers in Chuckatuck, Whaleyville and Driver. That way, these village centers could be improved, the rural areas kept rural, and the historical character of these places respected.

*Kill the Southwest bypass. This planned VDOT project, if built, will trap downtown between two major highways, and will encourage new suburban growth off its exits.

The amazing thing is that some people still see a bypass as a way to improve a downtown. It’s like cutting off an artery to improve circulation. One need only to look at downtown Emporia, dead since the route 58 bypass was completed around it, to see what happens to towns with bypasses. You can find hundreds of towns in North Carolina and Virginia that have been improved out of existence with bypasses. You will often find signs saying Business Route, which will take you to a downtown devoid of businesses.

Along with killing the Southwest bypass, Suffolk should examine trimming back some of the other road improvements planned in and around Suffolk. Building big highways is the quickest way to facilitate suburban growth. Suffolk should examine every road and ask whether it needs it, and for what purpose.

Herbert acknowledged that the city was risking its downtown’s health with the proposed bypass. Herbert said that people need to understand that traffic and congestion are part of a downtown’s health.

When people complain about a lack of parking and too much traffic, I tell them that there are people in downtown Portsmouth who would die for that kind of problem, said Herbert, who left Portsmouth City Hall last year.

*Make it easy to develop in the center city. Downtown and the surrounding neighborhoods are full of vacant lots that could hold new homes and businesses. Clear away the red tape for these, and consider low-interest loans for home renovations. Make it easy to develop in town, harder to develop in the country. The century-old homes that scatter downtown, many of them quite affordable, are a precious resource that should be used more fully.

If Suffolk can manage to restrain growth its countryside, it might manage to have the best of both worlds: a stable suburban community, and a healthy downtown with businesses, residents — and a fine new courthouse.

JON: THIS IS A SIDEBAR. THE COURTHOUSE MAKES HISTORY The site of the new courthouse used to be the home of Suffolk’s City Hall and City Market. Inaa putting a new courthouse there, the city is returning to its roots.

For close to a century, the twin turreted City Hall and City Market served as the site for not only the town officials and police force, but for vendors selling live chickens and fresh produce, as well as dances, theater concerts and high school graduations, said Sue Woodward, a member of the Suffolk-Nansemond County Historical Society. (JON: THERE ARE PICTURES OF THIS IN THE PICTORIAL HISTORY OF SUFFOLK THAT PERHAPS WE SHOULD RUN.)

Like Norfolk’s old city market, which actually also had turrets, the Suffolk city market was the center of town in numerous ways. But in the early 1960s, the city, like Norfolk, sold its building and allowed it to be torn down. In retrospect, it was a horribly short-sighted decision. Both cities lost huge pieces of their history as well as buildings that could have been home for other uses.

At the same time Suffolk was tearing down its courthouse, it was also developing a new courthouse complex outside the center of downtown. In this it was also following Norfolk’s lead. It had moved its City Hall and Courts out of what is now the MacArthur Memorial, its old city market known as the Armory, and other buildings, and into the City Hall complex. In retrospect, these decisions were also mistakes. Moving the courts and municipal offices onto plazas outside downtown helped to isolate downtown and take away its customer base.

The magnitude of what Suffolk is doing can be seen by imagining if Norfolk decided to close its courts building on the windswept municipal plaza and move it back to City Hall avenue, where it used to be.

The decision to put the courts back in a more prominent position on Main Street fits with the role the courts have historically played — as centers of a town, both physically and symbolically. Courts can be thought of as anchors and rudders of society, and because of this, it fits that they should be placed in the center of town.

Before the car led to the fragmentation of cities, it was natural to build a courthouse at the center of town where everyone could travel easily to it. Bankruptcy laws still call for delinquent property to be auctioned off on the steps of the courthouse, probably because legislators could not imagine a more public place for a sale to occur. This accounts for the now comical sight of, in Virginia Beach, property being auctioned off on a courthouse that sits on the edge of woods and farms, miles away from the developed city’s bulk.


Greater Norfolk: Why Not?

By Alex Marshall
For Port Folio Magazine

Now I’ve just cut my own throat, Mayor Paul Fraim said sheepishly.

The Norfolk leader’s fearful verdict was a good example of the dangers and contradictions associated with endorsing what might be the biggest bugaboo of local political thought: regional government.

Whatever you choose to call it, Hampton Roads, Greater Norfolk, Norfolk-Virginia Beach, what would happen if we actually had an elected regional government? Is that something we could work toward, and if so how?

When I first raised the idea with Fraim, he was firm. Nothing doing, he said. The people weren’t behind it, and “the surest way to kill an idea was to wrap it into a plan for regional government.” No way.

Having said this, he then proceeded to talk about how how the very structure of government in Tidewater hurt us, how if the area was going to compete effectively and operate efficiently, it had to act as one city, deciding where it was going in a coherent fashion.

“We have a truly regional economy, a regional work force, but inside of that region, we have real winners and losers depending on where certain tax producers are located, and where the lines are drawn,” Fraim said.

History has rendered an unfavorable verdict on the state’s policies that keep cities small, divided and humble.

“You have to ask yourself, where are the great cities in Virginia? What public policy has combined to keep cities small and regions fractured? Why wasn’t Norfolk a Baltimore? It should have been. Why wasn’t Richmond one of the great cites of the South?”

If we don’t manage to act as a region to shape important policies, we inevitably are less able to grow coherently, both physically and economically, Fraim said.

“How do you form a strategic agenda for a region that is broken down into 16 different localities? Where are we going, and who is going to take us there. You not only have a number of local governments, but they are completely independent.”

Having thus argued himself into a corner, Fraim found himself saying, “As unpleasant as it seems, consolidation might be the easiest route.” Having just heard himself endorse the very idea he said he could not 15 minutes previously, Fraim then muttered despairingly about “cutting my own throat” and pleaded that his picture not be put on the cover.

Regional government is both the Promised Land and the Vietnam of local politics. Lots and lots of people say the idea make sense. But they also agree it will never happen and avoid the subject like a land-war in Asia.

But if the idea makes sense, why not consider it? The Berlin Wall was toppled. We put a man on the moon. Ended welfare as we know it. Why not start talking about some of elected regional government.

This could take several forms. We could keep the old governments but create a new regional one that took care of some duties, like land-use and transportation. Or we could merge the existing ones, or some of them. The point is to end up a mayor and council that run the region and whom the people elect.

With this in mind, we went around and asked a variety of leaders, mostly elected, to touch this third rail of local politics. Would they support regional government in theory? If so why, and if not, why not?

BIGGER IS BETTER The strongest argument for an elected regional government was that the region needed to act more as one in investment decisions and making strategic choices: where to build roads or rail lines; how to build good universities; setting coherent regional growth policies and economic game plans.

A lot of the region’s leaders supported working toward a kind of government where these decisions could be made and the leaders held accountable.

“That’s why we don’t have a major league franchise, that’s why we don’t have the road connections to the outside world, that’s why we don’t have consensus on light rail,” Norfolk Councilman Randy Wright said. “Until we resolve our minor differerencs, we can’t see the big picture. In theory, I would support” some sort of elected regional government.

Big companies like Ford or IBM have a board of directors that sets overall policy, even as different divisions of the company work on separate projects, noted Chesapeake Councilman Gene Waters. What Hampton Roads might need is an elected board of directors that can set policy on things like road networks, or regional growth policy, Waters said.

“There is no one governing body that makes those decisions,” Waters said. “We have like 102 city councilmen in Hampton Roads, and it’s very difficult to get those to come up with a decision.”

But if it makes sense, it also was a steep slope to climb, even supporters agreed.

“I think it’s the only way, but before that happens, we’ll have to have a lot of funerals,” Norfolk councilman Herbert Collins said. “Everyone likes their own fiefdoms. We would have more clout, more to offer, we could combine some things, and cut down the duplication. But I can’t see a way to get there from here.”

“Personally, I think it’s got to come,” Portsmouth Mayor James Holley said. “It may not be in my time. But we will never experience the growth and development until we are all in lock step and acting in concert.”

SMALL IS BEAUTIFUL The argument that opponents of regional government grabbed most quickly was that, no matter how it we structured, any regional governance would put government another step away from the people, and make it both bigger and more remote.

“If I’m invited to speak at a Kiwanis club now, I can do that,” said Newport News Mayor Joe Frank. “If I were mayor of Hampton Roads, I couldn’t, because there are too many Kiwanis clubs. Most people don’t think that bigger government is better government.”

Mayor Meyera Oberndorf got in a good jab when she hinted that regional government might just make it easier for the Powers That Be to run things their way — without consulting with the people. I heard echoes of Henry Howell: There’s more that goes around in the dark beside Santa Claus.

“To the people who want everything to be run in the fashion that they think is appropriate, it would probably be tidier and easier for them to run things with a regional government,” Oberndorf said.

“Local government is close to the people it serves. Once it gets further and further away, there is this feeling of isolation.”

But you couldn’t you also make a good counter argument: That a regional government would in some ways bring government closer to the people. Right now, a lot of important things are handled by a series of unelected regional bodies: The Hampton Roads Planning District Commission, Tidewater Regional Transit, PENTRAN, SIPSA — the list and acronyms go on.

Right now, if I’m angry at traffic on I-244, or don’t like my bus service, it’s very difficult to find an elected leader I can vote for or against that will in any way influence those things. Bodies like TRT or The Planning District Commission tend to be governed by councils made of representatives from more than a dozen different municipalities. My one or two representatives from my city have a minute voice in the total scheme of things.

With a regional government, these bodies would presumably report to a mayor and his or her council. A regional mayor could campaign on something like ending the HOV lanes. And if he or she didn’t make it happen, we could vote him or her out.

BIGGER IS MORE EFFICIENT If Small is Beautiful, it might also be more expensive, says another line of argument in support of regional government. It costs money to have a dozen municipal repair shops, for example. Del. Bob Purkey of Virginia Beach argues that moving toward a regional government would fit the Republican philosophy of less government and more efficient government. “Each city has their own inventory of very expensive road maintenance equipment,” Purkey said. “Think of the efficiencies that could happen in sharing it, these huge pieces of equipment that must be housed and maintained.”

Purkey enters what is traditionally thought of as dangerous ground politically when he speaks of eliminating the elected constitutional offices, like sheriff, clerk of court, treasurer and commissioner of revenue, Purkey said. Just forcing the merger of treasurer and commissioner of revenue might save $10 million a year, Purkey said, enough for one more new elementary school annually.

While citizens might not jump at the thought of regional governance, they will jump at you when asked for tax increases, Purkey said. Eventually, this reluctance to raise taxes will force government to start merging services.

“I’m suggesting that we are just scratching the surface on a number of cooperative” ventures that could be done, Purkey said. “You have a lot of regional fiefdoms. It really comes down to turf protection.”

Chesapeake Councilman Waters had similar thoughts. Setting a regional growth plan not only builds a more coherent region physically, Waters said, but it would save money. Virginia Beach, Chesapeake and Suffolk have had to build schools while Norfolk and Portsmouth close them down.

“You have old ones rotting away, and new ones being built,” Waters said.

Having many different cities all planning development separately doesn’t work well either, Waters said. For example, you have Virginia Beach planning commercial growth around the proposed Southeastern Expressway corridor while Chesapeake, less active in the policy, plans for residential growth.

Fraim and others buy this argument, but say efficiencies in government are really just a nice extra to the more important goal of gaining more coherent direction, identity and policy as a region.

“Where are we going, and who is going to take us there?” Fraim said. “That’s more important than economies of scale. You can save money with one police chief, but there are a lot of bigger issues that regionalism means.”

Mayor Dana Dickens of Suffolk sounded a similar note. Although as one of the smaller cities, Suffolk would be a smaller voice in a larger whole, Dickens had no qualms considering some sort of regional governance. He told the old tale about the father who instructed his sons on the merits of working together by having them try to break a bunch of sticks lashed together into one bundle. Together, the sticks could not be broken; separately, they broke easily.

“The point of the story is what I feel about the region,” Dickens said. “The more together we are, the stronger we are. If that takes us to a regional government, so be it.”

Dickens had the most concrete example of actual regional action: His city and Portsmouth are close to announcing agreement on joint construction of a library. Although it would be placed in Churchland in Portsmouth, it would also be used heavily by residents in adjacent Suffolk neighborhoods, and so Suffolk may help fund it.

CITIES VERSUS SUBURBS Look at everyone’s comments and you see some trends. Those favoring regional government said the area would be more able to meet the big challenges that determine a region’s fate. Other backers said it would be more efficient. Those opposing said it would add another layer of government and remove government from the people.

But the way the supporters and opponents lined up showed another argument going on underneath the surface, one more about money. In general, supporters of regional governments tended to come from the inner cities. Firm opponents were usually suburban.

Why is this?

Well, whatever else it would do, a regional government would almost certainly share the wealth. Right now, the suburbs get a disproportionate share of the region’s money. Their residents get most of the salaries on the jobs located in the inner cities.

In the short run, that looks like a pretty good deal for the suburbs, so why change? Even though Chesapeake and Virginia Beach have more growth problems, they also have more shopping malls, dentists and other taxpayers that help balance the books.

You can see this imbalance when you compare Virginia Beach and Norfolk. If Virginia Beach raises its real-estate tax one cent, it raises an additional $2 million. But if Norfolk raises its real-estate tax one cent, it raises a little less than $700,000. Virginia Beach has a population less than twice that of Norfolk. But it has a tax base three times as large. That explains why tax rates tend to be higher in the inner cities.

In the long run, this imbalance in wealth hurts the whole region, including Virginia Beach, say many experts. David Rusk has proved pretty conclusively in several books that areas as a whole do better when they spread the common problems and costs over a wider area. Regions that have “inelastic” boundaries and remain divided suffer.

But like a rich woman not wanting to admit that she was having second thoughts about her potential groom’s wallet, that topic went generally unmentioned.

With the exception of Councilman Louis Jones from Virginia Beach. Under my prodding, he had no qualms saying he felt no responsibility for the fate of the inner cities.

“It should not be the responsibility of the suburbs to carry the tax burdens of the inner city,” Jones said. “The inner city needs to handle its affairs in a way that they can handle their own tax burdens.”

GETTING THERE Okay, some leaders are willing to at least entertain the idea of regional governance. Is there any way to get there from here?

Here’s a fantasy scenario: Next year, a bill comes before the General Assembly in Richmond. It merges the governments of Hampton Roads into one entity, or creates a new entity that keeps the old governments but delegates some regional responsibilities to a new one. The House and the Senate pass it. The governor signs it. It’s done.

It might be that simple. Legally, we are creations of the state. Norfolk, Virginia Beach, Newport News and all the other cities exist only because Richmond says they do. Although the actions of the General Assembly are set by the constitution, it’s actually not required for the local governments to endorse the idea of a regional government. If Richmond wanted to thrust a regional government upon us, it probably could.

In Toronto a few years ago, the provincial government merged Toronto with several surrounding suburban localities. Toronto didn’t want to do it. The suburbs didn’t want to do it. But the province, whose conservative leader had campaigned on greater efficiencies in government, said We Don’t Care What You Think, and did it anyway.

For better and for worse, local governments in the United States tend to be more independent and less linked in a clear hierarchy of decision-making and policy to a state or national government.

Del. Tom Moss of Norfolk, and Speaker of The House, said the idea of a regional government has been discussed since he began in politics around 1960. There was even a commission that studied it. But he said politics make it all but impossible.

“If you had one city council, who would be on it?” Moss said. “Would they be elected at large? Who would be the chief of police? The logistics are overwhelming.”

As for sweeping action by the General Assembly, it might require a change in the constitution first, and even if not, would not happen for political reasons, Moss said. The state would not act against the wishes of the localities.

“To say you are going to have one central government is almost impossible politically,” Moss said.

Sen. Ken Stolle of Virginia Beach said there wasn’t much chance of Richmond ever imposing regional government on Hampton Roads.

“Everyone would have to agree that is where they were going,” Stolle said. The General Assembly would not impose a government on the localities.

By the same token, the state also is not hostile to the idea, Stolle said.

“I have heard the argument that the state does not want to give the localities the ability to act like a region because it threatens their authority. I couldn’t disagree more. If Norfolk and Virginia Beach got together and agreed to cooperate in some way, I would probably support it.”

Fraim of Norfolk said he could see a future where two or three governments “with common interests” might decide to consolidate. If this works well, others might clamor to join up. He thought this scenario more likely than the entire region agreeing on a plan for a regional government.

This was an intriguing idea. Imagine if Virginia Beach and Norfolk decided to merge. Think of the powerhouse of a city that would be created. Chesapeake might soon clamor to join up, and then others as well.

Around the country, most defacto regional governments happen either through annexation or by the conversion of county governments into effective city governments.

States with very liberal annexation laws, like North Carolina or Texas, end up with very large cities that swallow large amounts of land area. Houston is technically the fourth largest city because its liberal annexation laws, even though it is the 10th largest metropolitan area.

Of course, Virginia has neither liberal annexation laws, and its counties are legally separate from its cities. The latter doesn’t affect Hampton Roads much because its counties converted themselves into “cities” some time ago.

In the here and now, the best hope for regional governance is for the individual cities to keep cooperating on specific missions and services, said Jimmy Eason, president of The Hampton Roads Partnership and former mayor of Hampton.

Eason shied away like a skittish horse at the mention of actual regional government.

“The idea of consolidated government would be so negative to the majority of people,” said Eason. “There is such an inherent suspicion of big government. And there is a real fear of losing identity.”

What the partnership, which is actually working to address these issues, proposes is that the separate cities work together more on areas of common interests: this could even end up sharing services, like libraries or police. The cities already cooperate on a great number of things, Eason said. The failure of cooperation on things like light rail or the Southeastern Expressway overshadow some very real achievements.

If the merger of Pentran and TRT comes off, Eason said, this will be a real achievement. If consolidation of cities does come, it would only be after already having got most of the way there in smaller steps, he said. Eason’s scenario holds out the hope that we could perhaps get there from here. Say we consolidate libraries. Then maybe police. Then we cooperate on setting growth plans. Maybe eventually, it might not be so hard to actually form a coherent regional government, or for two cities to merge their governments.

Let’s never say never. Change really is possible. The future is unpredictable and exciting. Whether we call it Greater Norfolk or Hampton Roads, it’s pretty clear that we rise and fall together.

Don’t Let Kirn Library Fly Away

Monday, August 16, 1999
COLUMN FOR: The Virginian-Pilot
BY ALEX MARSHALL

At the end of the movie Casablanca, Ingrid Bergman pleads with Humphrey Bogart to stay with him, and to let her husband, the courageous underground leader Victor Lazlow, fly off by himself.

As the prop plane beats it propellers against the air, Bogart, playing tough guy “Rick,” looks down at her and says, no way.

“You’ll regret it,” he tells her in his sandpaper-and-velvet growl. “Maybe not today, maybe not tomorrow, but soon, and for the rest of your life.”

That’s how I feel about tearing down Kirn library in Norfolk. That if we do it, we’ll regret it, and soon, and for the rest of our lives. (Imagine Bogart saying these words, in that accent that I now realize sounds vaguely like President John Kennedy mixed with Marlon Brando.)

Huh, you might ask? “I didn’t even know they were thinking about tearing down Kirn.”

Well “they” are. A study committee has recommended building a new central library elsewhere downtown. Even more important, city council members are eying Kirn as a potential spot for a new upscale hotel. Under this plan, the city would sell off the property, perhaps using the funds for a new library.

Sure, any such events may be far off. But I’m talking about it now, because I know how things work in Norfolk. By the time the process gets around to public hearings and comment periods, plans will set and difficult to change. If “we” want to keep Kirn, we need to start talking about it now.

Beauty is a funny thing. It reflects, I think more and more, the relationship one has with an object, as much as the object’s inherent characteristics in space and on the ground.

Kirn was built in 1960-1962, financed in part by a grant from the Kirn family. Built as part of the urban renewal process that was then tearing apart the city, this sleek masterpiece of glass, steel and marble rose on its site on City Hall Avenue, now directly across from the MacArthur Mall. It was Norfolk’s first real central library. In replaced the beautiful, but small Carnegie-funded library on Freemason Street, whose building still stands, but which unfortunately the city no longer owns. The architectural firm of Lublin McGaughy designed Kirn; contractor Paul Tishman built it.

Forty years later, Kirn has lost the aura of modernity, speed and style with which, like a hot new sports car parked on a corner, it used to greet passerbys. Its three stories and a mezzanine now seem small and short against the bulk of the MacArthur Center, and height of the main street towers. Kirn is now often unnoticed, always under-used.

But look twice at Kirn. Look three times. Notice the way the tall marble planks stretch up its sides. Notice the abundance of steel and glass. Notice how proudly it sits on its corner, directly addressing the street.

For an even better viewpoint, stand inside Kirn on the mezzanine level. Notice how you can see right into the street because Kirn’s “walls” are actually entire sheets of glass. Notice the luxurious floating marble stairs that lead you gently to the mezzanine. Notice how the building is literally stuffed with the black-streaked marble, around you at every turn.

And then I think it will hit you. Kirn is beautiful. An example of 1960s modernism at its best, all steel and glass, an open building, revealing its structure and interior to the world like someone with nothing to hide.

Historic preservation, I’m realizing, is not just about nostalgia. It’s about recognizing that different eras have different strengths. We could not replicate a Kirn library today, because building trades have changed, technology has moved on, and the eyes of present-day designers are different. Because of this, it makes sense to keep the best of every era, because we are keeping something that can’t be replicated, a language that, if erased, will no longer be spoken.

I love libraries. And it shames me that Norfolk has so long neglected theirs. When I was a boy growing up in Virginia Beach, visiting Kirn was something special. That’s no longer true.

But there is nothing wrong with Kirn that a strong wind of fresh cash couldn’t fix. A wind that swept old books off shelves, that expanded the public parts of the library into neglected corners and floors, a wind that made every corner glisten with love, attention and staffing.

Sure, a great central library might eventually need more room. But with the demolition of the old Board of Trade building, Kirn possesses an entire city block. This is as much room as San Francisco’s new downtown library. When time to expand, an addition can be built on the land now used for a few parking spaces. In fact, I hear there are dormant plans around for just that. Kirn could even go upward, building additional stories on top of the ones that exist

What Norfolk doesn’t need is another new mega structure, flanked by a giant parking box, isolated from the rest of the city. It needs buildings like Kirn, that fit into the streetscape, and that are intimately part of the fabric of downtown life, and the city’s history.

Don’t write an unhappy ending to this movie. Think once, twice, three times, before doing something that we may someday regret, “and soon,” and for the rest of our lives. Let’s stand by Kirn, as it has so nobly stood by us.

What Makes A Neighborhood Viable?

a roundtable debate – Alex Marshall and Andres Duany
Metropolis
May, 1995

Our article in May about the redevelopment of East Ocean View in Norfolk, Virginia (“When the New Urbanism Meets an Old Neighborhood”), has sparked discussion – verbal, written, and electronic – about similarities writer Alex Marshall sees between urban renewal programs of the 1950s and 1960s and Andres Duany and Elizabeth Plater – Zyberk’s plans for the Norfolk neighborhood. At the heart of the debate is a facet of New Urbanism that is disturbing to some critics and could impede the movement in the future: The majority of projects suggest an unwillingness to accommodate existing building stock into its new neighborhoods. New Urbanists call their movement the “architecture of community” – a questionable label when architects appear willing to remove existing communities to build new ones. But for now, the issue is whether this part of East Ocean View is viable enough to save.

ANDRES DUANY: In his article about our redevelopment project, Alex Marshall makes a false analogy between the neighborhoods destroyed by urban renewal in the 1950s and the site in Norfolk. Those martyred neighborhoods described by Jane Jacobs [in The Death and Life of Great American Cities] were poor but in possession of highgrade urban qualities supporting a fine tissue of society, including many homeowners. They were, as we say now, viable.

The 100 acres of East Ocean View were half-abandoned. Indeed, the area’s development had become undesirable so quickly that a good portion of the land had remained unbuilt. Most of the existing housing consists of decrepit Section 8 subsidized rental apartments, of a most degrading type, built in the 1970s by developers with nothing but exploitation in mind. The whole affair contributes to a very high incidence of crime. Their removal in Norfolk is akin to the justified demolitions of Pruitt-Igoe [the award winning St. Louis housing project often cited as a failure of Modern architecture] and other such products that were the object of Jane Jacobs’ attack, not of her defense.The people who lose their rental apartments will be assisted into housing by the Norfolk Redevelopment and Housing Authority, which may well be the best-managed public housing in the country. They are certainly not being turned out into oblivion in the manner of the 1960s.

Apart from the apartments, the most controversy was caused by the 18 houses with middle-class resident/owners that are slated to go. Why these? Of the 18, three were on the beachfront, isolating the beach from the rest of the neighborhood. To make the beachfront public by eliminating these houses, the inland houses (the owners of only three of them wished to remain) were caught in the net of equal fairness (or unfairness). Designating these three otherwise acceptable homes for removal permitted the removal of those three that privatized the beach. The development of the neighborhood is designed in such a way that the three homeowners, retired couples who may want to remain for the rest of their lives, won’t be affected until the later phases of development, perhaps a decade away.

Granted, the decision for demolition was made before we were even interviewed for the project. But had we not approved, we would have walked away, as Marshall reported we did in Houston. There was an important condition to be respected: The City Council of Norfolk had voted unanimously for the complete demolition of the site. This was a very protracted, thoroughly public, and very contested process, through which the elected representatives of the people made a difficult decision. I understand this to be the workings of democracy and something to be intrinsically respected. I am surprised that Marshall does not report this.

Apart from the prerogatives of democracy, the stated intention of the Norfolk City Council is one that we support as a general strategy for urban cores: to decant the monocultures of poverty. This small area is responsible for the majority of the crime in East Ocean View, giving the entire bay – front of Norfolk its bad name and causing the middle class to shun it for the suburbs.

Poverty itself does not cause crime, the concentration of poverty causes crime (source: Reuben Greenberg, the brilliant police chief of Charleston, South Carolina). Our task was to design a properly balanced neighborhood which leaves the population with a mixture of the poor,the middle class, and even the wealthy. This is, in fact, the ideal of the New Urbanism, and not the demolition of fine old neighborhoods. Marshall did report accurately my politically incorrect statement to the effect that the inner cities do not need more affordable housing as much as they need housing for the middle class. . To live, our bankrupt cities need tax paying citizens. That’s a fact.

ALEX MARSHALL: The guts of Duany’s defense are that it is okay to tear this neighborhood down because it is troubled and the people are poor and the buildings aren’t pretty. I disagree with this philosophy. I won’t say that a government can never level a neighborhood, but the area’s existing homes would have to be in worse shape than those in East Ocean View, and the people who live in them treated more fairly.

Duany also makes serious errors that undercut his arguments and suggest how little he has paid attention to the neighborhood he is replacing. Here are the most obvious:

None of the homes in this area are Section 8 housing. All the homes, both apartments and single-family houses, were privately built. This part of East Ocean View has no public housing of any kind. The brick apartment buildings Duany is apparently referring to are standard suburban-style apartments built in the 1970s. Being brick, they are probably better than many such apartment complexes that litter the suburbs.

None of the families have been relocated to public housing. At last count, 75 families have been evicted from the neighborhood. The only guarantee the housing authority made was to place residents (who so desired) at the top of the waiting list for public housing – something that complies with federal law governing public housing. The fact is, East Ocean View has no public housing, so it is unlikely present residents would choose to become public housing tenants. By design, the city is using private banks rather than federal money to finance the project, which exempts the city from having to guarantee relocation assistance. Duany says residents “are certainly not being turned out into oblivion.” In fact, this is exactly what is happening to them.

Regarding the Norfolk City Council, Duany defends the urban renewal decision because the political decision was unanimous. The same urban renewal in the 1950s and 1960s, which Duany joins in criticizing, was also approved by duly elected democratic governments. Does this mean it was right, or exempt from criticism? The fact is, the people in the condemned neighborhood had little political voice.

Duany asserts his plan will make the beach more public. In fact, an essential component of the city’s plans is reaping the profits from a series of new half-million dollar houses that will front directly on the beach.

Duany ends by saying he seeks only to “design a properly balanced neighborhood and to leaven the population witha mixture of the poor, the middle class,and even the wealthy.” His apparent capacity at self-deception amazes me. The new neighborhood will not have any poor people in it. The most the city has ever talked about is having homes in the price range of a high-school teacher – firmly middle-class.

Duany’s talk about diversity obscures the anti-urban nature of the project and his design. The new neighborhood, if built as planned, will be less dense and less diverse. By some estimates, up to 1,800 homes were in the East Ocean View neighborhood at the time the clearance project was launched. Duany would reduce the density to a third of that – 400 to 600. This area has blocks full of single family homes and apartments that are quite viable. It also has blank spots and abandoned housing, which would be perfect for redevelopment through a process that does not involve driving people out of their homes. The only reason to tear down the entire neighborhood is because of a cynical belief that no middle or upper-income person would be willing to move into a house next to that of a working-class person.

What if the city had taken the estimated $35 to $40 million the project will cost and subsidized the building of middle-class houses on those vacant lots Duany mentioned? Then the city would have had a chance of creating a genuinely diverse neighborhood, better off than the present one, but one not founded on force and exclusion. I am not against gentrification. Like Duany, I favor restoring a healthier tax base to center-cities. But there is a difference between gentrification – which I think of as a poor neighborhood gradually being infused with wealthier residents – and the clearance of people from their houses so wealthier people can be put there with the help of taxpayers’ money.

Norfolk is doing just what it wanted: tearing down a poor neighborhood and driving its people elsewhere – across city lines, some officials hope. When preparing the project, city officials used a feasibility study that estimates Norfolk would save millions of dollars in police and social costs because up to a third of the project’s displaced residents would leave town. In this noble endeavor, Duany is helping.

I don’t mean to say that Duany or his staff are without talent. His new plan has its beauty. Its planned road system carefully weaves around existing trees and carves out small parks. The mixture of town houses and grand homes with the now – standard front porches will be more interesting than the usual suburban subdivision. But Duany’s new neighborhood will have no history and reveal its lack of roots in its false, cheery appearance. It’s hard to resist concluding that Duany, the New Urbanist, is tearing down a real urban neighborhood to build a fake one.