Redondo Rejects Historic District, Apologizes to Bungalow’s Owners

Amid charges of racism, a Redondo Beach couple won the right on Tuesday to remodel their vintage bungalow, despite claims by preservationists that the renovation would erode the character of one of the city’s oldest neighborhoods.

On a 3-1 vote, the City Council turned down what would have been the city’s first local historic district, a stretch of Craftsman-style and Colonial Revival cottages on the 300 block of North Gertruda Avenue, which included the corner home of Jackie and Herman Bose.

Preservationists had sought the designation in part because it would have prevented the Boses from making any exterior changes that were inconsistent with the original design of the house. But the Boses, who retired to the community last year, charged that the neighbors were singling them out for harassment because they are black.

The council decision brought to an end a painful and bitter dispute that had divided the previously close-knit neighborhood and delayed for nearly a year the Boses’ plan to add a second story and make much-needed repairs to their home.

But the vote also marked a serious setback for the city’s preservationists, who have for years fought an uphill battle to save the beach city’s few remaining older neighborhoods from the relentless march of condominium development and remodeling. As a coda to their decision, the council instructed city staff to draft a set of changes to the preservation ordinance that critics say would effectively gut the 1988 law.

“Peoples’ rights are more important than preservation,” said Councilwoman Kay Horrell, who represents the district and who spearheaded the call for changes in the preservation ordinance.

But Councilwoman Barbara Doerr, the lone dissenter, said the real issue is the city’s longstanding pro-development bias. Noting that the preservation ordinance was passed in the heat of an election campaign, Doerr questioned the council’s sincerity in approving it.

“I think when we adopted our historic preservation ordinance, it was a farce,” Doerr said. “The city says we want historic preservation, but we aren’t prepared to stand behind it.”

The battle of North Gertruda Avenue dates to last October, when the Boses took out plans with the city to add a second story, install new windows, build a garage and restore their home’s original clapboard facade.

Although they felt the remodeling would enhance the bungalow’s historic character, several of their neighbors--led by Don Schweikert and Preservation Commissioner Sandra Dyan--disputed that, saying the roof line, windows and other changes would be inconsistent with the original design of the house.

Schweikert and Dyan were particularly concerned because, several years ago, they had won a spot for the block on the National Register of Historic Places. The Bose home was included in that listing, and the neighbors were told that the house would be removed from the listing if it were remodeled.

Although the Boses’ renovation would not be enough to cost the whole neighborhood its historic listing, the neighbors worried that the changes would erode the block’s character.

Despite a series of increasingly tense negotiations that lasted through the winter, the two groups were unable to reach a compromise.

The dispute ended up at City Hall, where it became grist for an even longer-standing preservation-versus-property-rights debate.

In 1988, the preservationists had prevailed, pushing through an ordinance that allowed for the creation of local historic districts and established the Preservation Commission.

But the property-rights faction remained so strong that, in the three years since the ordinance was enacted, no neighborhood in the city achieved historic status. Part of the problem, critics said, was a requirement that any historic district receive the approval of 85% of the homeowners affected. Most other cities with such ordinances have thresholds of 75% or lower; Pasadena, a bastion of preservation, has a compliance requirement of just 51%.

Three days before the City Council was to vote in March on the Boses’ building permit, the neighbors filed to designate a 14-home portion of the block as a local historic district. Alarmed, the Boses fought the designation, but the proposed district met the 85% approval requirement.

The Boses hired a lawyer, Randall Kimose, a veteran City Hall lobbyist, and told the Preservation Commission that the problem was not their renovation, but their race. As proof, they produced an anonymous racist note they said had been slipped under their door one weekend.

The neighbors, meanwhile, expressed their own hurt at being branded as bigots.

“We don’t want to cause strife and trauma,” Mary Campbell told the commission last month. “We’re loving people and want to live peacefully as a block.”

Finally--in a debate so contentious that it prompted the resignation of one commissioner--the commission in May approved the historic district. But by Tuesday, when the Boses appealed to the council, it was clear the commission’s decision would be undone.

“I have never been so angry as I am over this,” said Mayor Brad Parton, who charged that the Boses had been “dragged through the mud.”

To underscore its point, the council publicly apologized to the Boses, then ordered city staffers to come back next month with a revised preservation ordinance that would require any future historic districts to have the unanimous approval of the homeowners affected, instead of 85%.

Michael Gin, president of the Preservation Commission, said the ordinance, if passed, “would effectively kill the historic district program in this city.” Gin said it would be virtually impossible to get an entire block to agree on a historic designation, and expressed disappointment with the council’s decision.

The neighbors, too, were saddened, saying their genuine concern for a historic home had been twisted in the name of property rights.

“I don’t think (the intensity of the dispute) had anything to do with the fact that the Boses are black,” said Karen Burke. “When people think their individual property rights are being attacked, it has a tendency to become personalized. . . . I think the same thing would have happened if they had been white, minus certain accusations.”

Burke called the decision tragic, noting that it came on the eve of the city’s centennial celebration. She said she doubts the block will ever recover the camaraderie it once enjoyed.

“The Boses, I think, have chosen to alienate themselves from us,” she said. “They’ve been so hostile and accusatory that I don’t see they’ll ever feel comfortable in a neighborhood they’ve basically slandered.”

But Jackie Bose disagreed.

“I’m sure everyone has room for gathering again,” she said as friends crowded around her, offering their congratulations.

“I always think people have room for getting back together.”