Local Elections : 3rd Vote in 12 Years : Solana Beach Battle Over Cityhood Comes to a Head

In a memorable scene from the movie “Network,” a newscaster played by actor Peter Finch captures the pent-up frustration of the masses when he implores his audience to throw open their windows and shout passionately into the night.

“I’m mad as hell and I’m not going to take it any more,” the people scream--with a good bit of gusto.

If you ask Solana Beach resident Gail Paparian, that scene--and, in particular, newsman Howard Beale’s famous line--aptly illustrates the sentiment pulsing through hundreds of households in this small, unincorporated beach town.

“People are totally fed up with the neglect and lack of consideration we’ve received at the hands of the county supervisors,” said Paparian, who fled the urban congestion of Los Angeles for a life by the sea six years ago. “There is a mounting feeling that, as an unincorporated community, we have no voice and no control over our destiny.”

For Paparian, the bitter public mutterings are a good sign. If residents are disillusioned enough, she reasons, they will swarm to the polls Tuesday to approve what Paparian and her allies view as a sure-fire solution to Solana Beach’s woes--cityhood.

Proposition N on Tuesday’s ballot asks voters whether they wish to break free of governance by the county and form a city covering four square miles and including roughly 14,000 residents.

Voters also will be asked to elect a five-member city council. Eleven candidates are vying for the five spots; the top vote-getter will be the city’s first mayor. If incorporation passes, the new council will take over the reins from the county July 1.

The election marks the third time in a dozen years that this community, sandwiched between the Del Mar Race Track and San Elijo Lagoon, has officially contemplated incorporation. In 1981, 55% of the voters rejected the idea, despite a rosy economic forecast for the proposed municipality. In 1974, a whopping 80% of local voters defeated a plan to merge with Cardiff, Encinitas and Leucadia and form one sprawling city.

This year, incorporation proponents say, the verdict will be different. Paparian and fellow leaders of Citizens Intending to Incorporate, which had raised $16,349 as of May 22, the most recent financial disclosure deadline, say that the picture has changed considerably since 1981.

Once little more than a sleepy strip of beach homes, convenience stores and restaurants, Solana Beach now generates a respectable $9.5 million a year in property, sales and hotel taxes. The county, meanwhile, spent only $1.2 million last year on services for the town, according to a study by the Local Agency Formation Commission, a state agency organized at the county level that must approve all incorporations before they appear on the ballot.

In addition, incorporation boosters say a robust economy has combined with the Board of Supervisors’ permissive posture toward development to unleash a building boom in town--a boom that has prompted a growing number of residents to wonder whether the course charted by the county is a prudent one.

“In 1981, it didn’t take people east of the freeway 15 minutes just to get to the beach,” said Jack Moore, chairman of CITI and a council candidate. “In 1981, they didn’t face five stoplights between their homes and the nearest grocery store. In 1981, they didn’t have clear evidence that Solana Beach was becoming a mess.

“Now they do. The question this time is not whether we’re going to win, but by how much.”

Despite such confidence, there is a coalition of residents working feverishly to persuade Solana Beach voters that they face a better, more financially secure future under the county’s wing. Opponents of cityhood, organized into a group known as Stop Inc., are veterans of anti-incorporation battles in 1974 and 1981--and they admit that their arguments against home rule haven’t changed much over the years.

“Just like last time, we plain don’t see any reason to incorporate,” said George Lewis, a retired Marine officer and a leader of Stop Inc. “The county isn’t perfect, but then again hindsight is 20/20 vision. I say Solana Beach has fared pretty doggone well over the years.”

So, Lewis reasons, why “waste taxpayers’ money creating another layer of bureaucracy we just don’t need? There will be a duplication of services if we incorporate. That’s something I’ll never endorse.”

In addition, Stop Inc. leaders, who had raised $4,494 according to disclosure documents filed May 22, challenge financial studies that predict a City of Solana Beach would have a $1.2-million surplus after its first year of operation. They say the proposed budget for the new city is unrealistically low.

Despite a 20% increase in the town’s sales-tax base over the last year, Stop Inc. members maintain that Solana Beach simply lacks the retail and commercial lineup necessary to adequately finance a local government.

The liability insurance crisis facing municipalities and other agencies nationwide also worries incorporation opponents.

“We have beaches, unstable bluffs and bike paths along busy highways, all of which adds up to high exposure in the eyes of the insurance people,” said Charles Brass, a retired physician and leader of Stop Inc. “The pro-incorporation people seem to pooh-pooh this problem, but I say we are going to have a hard time finding affordable coverage. Why not stay in the county and let them worry about it?”

Finally, cityhood opponents say they object to siphoning tax money from the county, which they believe is already struggling to provide regional services like courts, jails and health and welfare programs.

Cityhood foes have painted the pro-incorporation forces as spoiled children who whine about relatively insignificant problems and have misled Solana Beach residents into believing life under home rule would be nothing short of utopia.

In reply, supporters of cityhood say the opponents would seek to deny local residents their fair share of services for their tax dollar and the right to shape their own future. Local control, they argue, is the logical step for Solana Beach, which has outgrown its small-town status and needs more attention than one member of the county Board of Supervisors can provide.

“We are really like the orphan who has reached legal age and is ready to step out on his own,” said Moore, a retired Air Force officer and auditor who prepared the financial feasibility study for the proposed city. “Incorporation is a logical step in our maturation process.”

Moreover, incorporation supporters say, cityhood is imperative now if Solana Beach is to retain any semblance of the casual, beach ambiance its residents so cherish. In the last five years, the county has approved seven developer-initiated amendments to the county general plan that vastly increased densities in certain residential neighborhoods, Moore said.

Supervisors also outraged local residents by approving a condominium development in pristine Holmwood Canyon, which overlooks San Elijo Lagoon. After a fierce citizens’ outcry, the county later joined in a successful effort to acquire the canyon as parkland.

“People came to Solana Beach because they like the small, coastal feeling of the place,” said Margaret Schlesinger, a council candidate and former county planning commissioner. “They want it to stay that way. They don’t want high-rises on Highway 101. They don’t want heavy-duty, high-density development. They don’t want random, tacky development.

“If we stay with the county, there’s no guarantee they won’t saddle us with that. By incorporating, we can get a grip on our destiny.”

In addition to Moore and Schlesinger, candidates for the City Council include Richard Hendlin, 34, a deputy state attorney general; Thomas Campbell, 36, an accountant; Kenneth Gross, 65, a retired real estate agent, and Phil Mann, 44, a lawyer.

Also running are Carmel Black, 39, a property management consultant; Berge Minasian, 54, principal at Solana Vista Elementary School; Marion Dodson, 49, a trustee in the Solana Beach School District; Charles Murphy, 57, a retired engineer, and Celine Olson, 60, a housewife and community activist.