http://www.charlotte.com/292/story/144570.htmlEve of destruction looming for historic areas?
Solutions are out there, if city officials cared enough to look for some
On Sunday, another one bites the dust. The implosion of the old Charlotte Coliseum will add to the body count of memory-laden Charlotte buildings that got scraped away.
In some ways it's understandable why the Coliseum, only 19 years old, is expendable. It was designed for a city with no NBA team, built before pricey luxury seats were seen as essential.
Even so, it adds to a continuing Charlotte mystery: Why do we tear down so much?
I don't have easy or complete answers. Some of the factors are specific policies: A state building code that until a few years ago made renovations expensive. Yet there's also a civic habit: a uniquely Charlotte striving to be always bigger, always bolder.
But as I've watched development here, I've also noticed that many other growing cities haven't seen demolition derbies like Charlotte's.
So why has uptown Charlotte -- unlike, say, Raleigh, Greensboro or Asheville -- lost almost all of its smaller, older buildings? Why is Dilworth, a local historic district, threatened with tear-downs and high-density condos, when historic districts in other N.C. cities aren't?
I have some theories. I don't claim to be a land planning expert. I wish people who are would take this issue seriously, because I'm afraid Dilworth, South End, NoDa and Myers Park face serious destruction . . .
For a time, that had an unintended side effect of chilling some development. Property owners acted like raffle ticket holders. "People would hold out for 60-story office buildings," says Keith MacVean, the planning department's land development program manager.
With every tower built, land values rose. That encouraged the raffle mentality and discouraged owners from spending to fix up and lease smaller, older buildings. It fed an economic climate that encouraged demolishing, not keeping, a building.
UMUD wasn't the sole factor. The building code and property tax system played roles, for instance. But build-to-the-heavens zoning left planners with little leverage over height or intensity, thus no way to cool demolition-inducing land values. "Once you've created a standard of `no standard,' it's hard to reel it back in," says MacVean . . .
The effects fall on unknown industrial buildings and beloved icons alike. Consider the MUDD-zoned Coffee Cup restaurant, or Dilworth's historic bungalows snuggled next to intense, TOD development.
Is anyone at the city noticing this? Trying to stop it? No.
Why not explore tools other cities use to try to protect some older buildings without squelching development? Raleigh has provisions that serve as height limits in parts of its downtown, yet it's still seeing downtown condo and office buildings rising.
It's too late for uptown to retain much historic flavor. But it isn't too late to protect NoDa, Dilworth, Myers Park and other treasured neighborhoods.
I'm tired of City Council members talking about protecting neighborhoods, over and over, but changing nothing.
Other cities found regulatory tools. Find some for Charlotte. Adopt them. How hard is that?
http://www.newsobserver.com/opinion/columns/story/606926.htmlThe lowdown on teardowns
RALEIGH - The teardown trend in Raleigh is bad for the environment -- and bad for Raleigh's residents. When global warming, water conservation needs, landfill shortages and the need for additional electric power generation fill the newspaper on a daily basis, tearing down a perfectly habitable house (even if it's "dowdy") to make way for an oversized replacement is environmentally irresponsible . . .
Contrary to building industry rhetoric, teardowns do not financially benefit the existing property owners in a neighborhood. After oversized houses are built, neighboring property values actually drop in many cases. The quality of life is diminished, living next door to a monster house (with the issues of increased runoff, and loss of sunlight, view and neighborhood tree canopy) and the streetscape loses its charm.
The remaining small houses are valued only for their land. Though their land value may marginally increase, often their total market value is reduced. According to a study at the University of Illinois at Chicago, existing properties in close proximity to teardowns in Arlington Heights have lost as much as 24 percent of their value due to the construction of larger and more expensive houses nearby.
Our older neighborhoods in Raleigh are generally places that feature a variety of sizes and housing types. Size is one of the biggest components of affordability. The diversity of our older neighborhoods will be lost when homes that could comfortably accommodate a small family are replaced with expensive behemoths. After all, the majority of American households have only one or two persons.
Not everyone needs or wants a huge house. Sarah Susanka of Raleigh has published a wonderful series of bestselling books on the "The Not So Big House." She has eloquently demonstrated that larger does not necessarily mean more livable.
Other cities (Austin, Atlanta, Salt Lake City, Dallas, to name a few) are addressing this problem. Raleigh needs to do so -- and quickly. One of Raleigh's National Register historic districts is rapidly losing its historic character, and several other neighborhoods that are now eligible for the National Register are being torn apart . . .
