Some years ago a mentor of mine, a veteran of many local government
skirmishes, observed rather bitterly to me, “You know that old saying, ‘You
can’t fight City Hall?’ Well, it’s
wrong. You can fight City Hall; you just
can’t win.” I’m sure he wasn’t the first
to make that observation, nor the last, because it is, lamentably, very close
to true. But not always.
News broke this past July that may herald a rare win for a group of
organized local residents over a development project that gave every appearance
of being “wired” and on its way to approval.
The project, referred to by the name of its developer—“Pennrose”—was to build
a retail/apartment complex at the corner of DeKalb and Airy Streets in
Norristown. The news that Pennrose Inc. had
failed to meet a deadline for a portion of the financing called the project’s
future into serious question. The
residents who led the opposition appear to have won a victory in their effort to keep a subsidized
housing complex out of Norristown’s core.
This deserves to be celebrated. It
also deserves to be studied.
Now that some time has passed, we can examine the Pennrose affair within
a larger context. There are lessons to
be learned here, lessons that urban community activists would do well to heed,
regardless of the nature of their communities or where they happen to be
located. The specifics of this case
apply to Norristown alone, but the rules of the game are the same everywhere. You may ignore the specific facts, if you
wish; but I would submit to you that the lessons that follow apply to YOU, and YOU,
and YOU too.
(In
the interests of full disclosure, let me declare that the following opinions
are mine alone, and derive solely from my reading of the publications available
to everyone. I have not communicated in
any way with any of the participants, as to motives, plans, tactics or anything
else.)
A bit of background:
The Pennrose project was to construct a
96-unit apartment building, with 5,000 square feet of retail space on its
ground floor. Twenty-two of the rental
units would also be located on the ground floor. This was a point of contention, and I will
return to it in a future post. A much
bigger issue was that 60 of the 96 rental units would offer “affordable” rents
subsidized by a tax credit program. In
other words, Pennrose was “subsidized housing.”
Then there was the location. Today the site is a sporadically used parking
lot, owned by Montgomery County (this is important), that is useful mostly to
churchgoers on Sundays. Years ago,
however, it was the site of Norristown Borough Hall (although always referred
to as “City Hall,” for unknown reasons), and lies directly adjacent to the old,
long closed, county prison. In short,
it’s in the core of old Norristown. The
two issues coalesced to offer both municipal officials and residents this basic
question: Is such a combined use,
subsidized rent building a suitable occupant for this core location?
The project’s progress through the approval thicket seemed to indicate
that Norristown’s municipal government believed it was. The project required a number of variances
from zoning requirements, which it received, but which proved to be the source
of its undoing. A citizen’s group arose
out of nowhere, christened itself “Norristown Nudge” and began to agitate
against the project. The project’s funding
came undone back in July, and no word of its future has surfaced as of the date
this was written.
The best way I can pay tribute to “The Pennrose Affair” is to extract
from it lessons I believe are applicable elsewhere. There are three reasons, and each will be the
subject of a separate post.
Lesson
#1: It’s Not Over; It Never Is.
Everyone concerned should believe that
reports of the project’s death are greatly exaggerated. Assume instead that it is merely on hold, and
keep your ear to the ground.
Pennrose lost a portion of its financing, and the delay imposed by the
lawsuit (more about this in my next post) may cause other components of that financial
structure to exit, which they may have already done. Or they may not. More likely, another financial structure for
the same or a similar project is being planned for the future. Pennrose is in the business of constructing
such government-supported housing structures; it’s what they do, and they are
good at it, particularly the financing part.
The same news of their failure to qualify for funding for their
Norristown project contained news of their success in another project in
another location. Funding cycles mean just that; they will come around again. The
July date was Cycle 2 of the finance agency’s calendar. You should assume that the cycle process will
continue. Companies like Pennrose don’t
take rejection personally; they are not going to get offended and walk away. Exactly what they might do is not yet known,
but you can be sure Pennrose is exploring all possibilities, with walking away
from something that was so close to approval not very high on their priority
list.
Keep in mind also that Pennrose has no financial “carrying costs” on the
property while the legal issue is resolved.
They don’t own it, didn’t take an option on it, or (as far as we know)
commit any money that would be due regardless.
On that score at least, Pennrose can essentially afford to wait. Such costs are often critical in a
fish-or-cut-bait decision on whether to advance a project, but not in this
case. Also, do not lose sight of the fact
that if the property’s owner, Montgomery County, was willing to sell it for
this project they would probably be amenable if approached again, by Pennrose
or some other developer.
A company that specializes in such projects should not be counted out
after the first round; and that’s just what it was, not the end of the
fight. I might be wrong, but both research
and personal experience tell me otherwise.
Next week: Lesson #2, wherein I
focus on the efforts of groups opposing “wired” projects.
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