Where there's smoke, there's only more smoke
I’m sure I’m not alone in trying to figure out just what former planning commissioner Jim Rodriguez was trying to get at in his two lengthy, tortured and virtually impenetrable letters that ran in the Patriot March 19th and 20th.
Basically it seems that, in his view, he was booted off the commission after six years of service because other commissioners and city staff didn’t want to hear any more from him about “greater transparency and engagement” with the people of Downey, which he claims he was urging and they were resisting.
Except for one reference, Rodriguez doesn’t offer any more transparency and engagement himself about what he thinks we should know. Nor does councilman Alex Saab, who appointed Rodriguez, then dismissed him, and then complained in yet another letter to the editor about Rodriguez’ attacks on his credibility and character, which Rodriguez didn’t do in those letters. Unless he did them verbally, behind the scenes. Without public transparency and engagement.
A beef like this is fairly normal in city politics, and it’s normal too for the principals to want to keep it as private as they can, if only to maintain the decorum of leadership (and avoid a lawsuit). But you have to wonder if there’s smoke here, beyond the clunky language of bureaucratese.
Is Rodriguez an obnoxious figure, difficult to deal with (he and I have never spoken or met)? Does he have thwarted political ambitions? Has the planning commission, as he implies, cut itself off from public review and accountability? In a city whose civic leaders continually trumpet the interests of business, has the commission unquestioningly adopted those interests without examining how they affect the larger life of the city? They are, after all, supposed to be planners.
If Rodriguez himself had been specific on the issues he challenged, we’d all have a clearer picture of what’s going on with the commission, and of course Downey’s future. He did specify one, however: the KB townhouse complex billed as Centerpointe.
The new Centerpointe housing development in Downey.
For anyone unfamiliar with that residential development, it’s the largest of its kind in Downey and stretches from 5th to 7th on the east side of Paramount and across Parrot Street. KB’s street signage advertises those new homes at $500,000, which is about standard in a hot real estate market whose value rose 8.1% in 2017 alone. (KB’s website indicates purchase prices beginning at $602,472.)
The overall look of the site, however, suggests the depressing monotony of a low-income housing project. Far from complete, it’s already an eyesore. The boxy townhouses resemble massive cargo crates. There are few design amenities, like balconies, trees, fountains, sculpture, benches, interior walkways winding through rolling lawns, any kind of sizable greenspace. Except for a small “tot lot” still under construction, there’s no place for kids to play. The Paramount Boulevard frontage takes up so much space that two people would have trouble passing each other on the sidewalk. The three-story height suggests, at least by code, multiple family dwelling, which promises overcrowding.
In short, it’s a slum waiting to happen.
And no one has even mentioned the health hazards of living next to one of the busiest traffic avenues in Downey, which is located in one of the most air-polluted regions in Southern California, hemmed in by four freeways, three of which carry over 20,000 cars and trucks a day, according to a recent Los Angeles Times report, and lies directly under the incoming flight path of LAX, the second-largest airport in the country.
The city can’t do anything about its location, but it can consider this:
Traffic and aircraft noise, gasoline and diesel emissions, congestion and other stresses of urban life have been the subject of numerous international studies that have shown them to cause heart and pulmonary disorders, sleep disorders, shortened life spans, higher rates of premature birth and fetal impairment, anxiety, neurological disorders, higher rates of autism and cognitive decline.
I seriously doubt the City of Downey pays any attention to these reports. Its lengthy and detailed study, called “2014-2021 Housing Element” limits its environmental topics to seismic events, fires and floods.
As a footnote to all this, I asked Roger Brossmer, when he was still a councilman, if the city and planning commission ever took into account those urban studies on the physical and psychological effects of noise and pollution. “No,” he replied. “We never knew about them.”
Subsequently, I’ve reported on them in the Patriot and in an appearance before the city council. I could tell by their blank stares that this issue was dead on arrival. There’s no evidence or official comment since that suggests any current city official even thinks of them.
Jim Rodriguez apparently hasn’t considered them either. What he has done, according to his March 20 account, was question whether the planning commission hadn’t rushed the KB plan through as it was presented and approved by, as he quotes, “…an outside professional and renowned architectural firm, in addition to staff reviews.” Rodriguez writes, “A few relatively straightforward changes to the KB development plan could have made a significant difference, including greater setbacks and more defined architecture and design…We were stopped in our tracks…”
The initials KB represent Kaufman & Broad, one of the largest real estate developers in the country. Eli Broad has been one of the wealthiest Los Angeles figures of the past fifty years, active in philanthropy, politics and culture. Is it unreasonable to wonder how much power KB can exert on a small city like Downey?
One housing development doesn’t make or break a city of over 113,000 people. But it’s symptomatic of the well-intended but often spasmodic and short-sighted choices the city has been making over the past ten years or so, as it lurches toward its future.
Another installment will follow this one next week.