Between the Dump and a Hard Place : Landfill: Elfin Forest homeowners want the county to purchase their properties, near a proposed landfill expansion, as promised.

On Nov. 12, a disgruntled group of Elfin Forest homeowners made the 90-mile round-trip to San Diego to remind county supervisors of a promise they made one year ago.

The trip, like the year that preceded it, ended in frustration. The County Board of Supervisors did not meet that Tuesday. The chambers were dark and empty.

“Normally, I would have called on Monday to check that they were meeting,” Evelyn Alemanni explained. “But Monday was Veterans Day, and the county offices were closed.”

Alemanni and about 20 other property owners along the edges of the vast San Marcos landfill had been promised by county supervisors last November that the county would buy their homes, situated in the path of a proposed landfill expansion, at fair market prices.

The county would buy the homes because of plans to close the nearly full existing landfill, the only public disposal site in North County, but expand the site for future use. The plan depends on receiving state and federal permits.

This was the year that the existing landfill was to be closed, and the the dusty, smelly mountain of discards turned into an open-space park. This was the year that all the Elfin Forest residents had been waiting for, when the bulldozers would cease their growling and the flocks of screaming gulls would no longer circle ceaselessly, leaving their droppings on those below.

“They were supposed to close the landfill in January or early in 1991,” said Roger Enns, a real estate broker who is caught in the 12-month holding pattern. He worries that, if the county doesn’t buy the homes, nobody else will.

“We can’t sell our homes because we have to disclose that they are expanding the landfill, and who would buy under those circumstances?” he asked.

Most of the homeowners had decided early this year to take the county up on its offer to buy their homes. Many were house-hunting, including Evelyn Alemanni.

“We found a place, and we wanted to make an offer on it,” Alemanni said. “We were upfront with the broker, told him about our situation and that we didn’t know how long it would take before the county would buy us out. He called the county, and they said that they could have an appraisal on our property in 45 days and close escrow 30 days after that.

“That was on a Friday, and on the next Monday morning we received a letter from Supervisor (John) MacDonald’s office that said that everything was put on hold.”

That was last spring, and things are still on hold. “We feel that we are being held hostage,” Alemanni said.

But county property department officials say it would be premature to buy the homes in the path of the multimillion-dollar landfill expansion before permits are obtained.

At a recent coffee klatch, some Elfin Forest property owners commiserated about the year of uncertainty and speculated about the future. In the background was the constant drone of earthmovers, and windblown grit was evident everywhere, even in the Alemannis’ upscale home, where upholstered furniture is protected by dust covers and the draperies are tucked up on their rods to avoid the reddish grime.

“A year of frustration,” said Enns, brushing away a persistent fly with a practiced gesture. Enns gets his daily exercise by policing his lemon grove, picking up the papers and trash blown over from the nearby dump by prevailing winds.

“And think what it will be like if they expand it,” he said. “They are planning to build it up another 200 feet. That’s 20 stories high!”

Most of the homeowners bought their homes knowing that the landfill was there. But, they say they were told by the county and the sellers that the landfill would be closed for good in 1989 or 1990, when it reached capacity. Then the county planned to turn the landfill into a natural park, planting trees and landscaping, putting in riding and hiking trails.

Betty McKee, who lives across Elfin Forest Road east of the landfill, recalled, “At first, we were told that we would be included in the buffer zone,” where the county plans to acquire the properties most severely affected by the increased bulk and height of the expanded landfill, nicknamed Mt. Trashmore by neighbors.

“But then, when I called later, they told me that they were not going to include any property on this side of the road,” McKee said. “Do they think that the road is some sort of a barrier? We can still smell the smell. We can still see the place. In fact, we have a better view of it from our side. . . .”

Sympathy comes from Patti Newton, who heads the Elfin Forest Coalition, a group of valley residents who want county officials to keep their pledge to close the landfill and convert it into a park. “The expansion will affect everyone, everyone in the entire valley,” she said.

When Candy Lindemuth joined the group, she became the center of attention. She and her husband had accepted the county’s buyout offer--a reported $900,000--and had moved to other acreage at the far end of the valley.

“We looked and looked to find another place. We thought of moving back to Olivenhain or Poway, Bonsall or Olivenhain. We looked at old fixer-uppers on the Ranch (Rancho Santa Fe) before we found this place. It’s not easy to find something as nice when you have just built your dream castle,” she said.

Her dream castle sits empty, its landscaped yard now overgrown and trash-strewn.

“I hate to come back here,” she said. “It makes me so angry to think that they knew when we pulled our building permits (in May, 1990) that they were going to expand the landfill.”

Lindemuth said her new place is nice, “but it’s not the same. It’s like living in someone else’s home.”

“We never would have built here if we had known, but they didn’t tell us. Think of all the money they would have saved if they had not had to buy our home. It’s a horrible waste of our tax money and a year out of our lives,” she said.

Newton and Alemanni said that county correspondence dating back to 1987 dealt with the county’s intent to expand the landfill, but Elfin Forest residents knew nothing of the plans “until they posted a sign at the entrance to the dump” in September, 1990.

County Supervisor John MacDonald, who represented the Elfin Forest area until recent redistricting took effect, said he is committed to resolving the problem, “one way or another,” for the homeowners.

“The regulatory agencies have been dragging their feet in giving us permits to expand the landfill, so we cannot commit to buying these houses until we know we are going ahead with the landfill expansion,” MacDonald said.

“I must apologize to those people,” he added. “I know how hard it is on them. But there is nothing I can do about it.”

MacDonald said the two homes already acquired by the county may be rented or put on the auction block, to be sold and moved to new lots.

“The Elfin Forest fire department is concerned about letting those homes stand empty, and I can understand that. Sooner or later, they will become homes for the homeless or party houses or worse,” MacDonald said.

Elfin Forest Fire Chief Bill Barker told the town council’s executive board that he was negotiating with the county to use the empty houses for practice for his 27 volunteer firefighters--to burn them down “so the boys could get some experience in fighting a real fire.”

But, when the residents raised a ruckus over the thought of burning down $1.3 million in real estate, Barker changed his mind.

The county Air Pollution Control District would not permit him to burn down the property, he said. An APCD spokeswoman said practice burns by fire departments are exempted from APCD rules and Barker, as fire chief, would be the official authorized to issue the burning permit.

Alemanni has another proposal for utilizing the vacant residences: “John MacDonald should be forced to move into one of them, and Granville Bowman (county public works director) into the other. Maybe when they realize what they are putting us through here, we could get some resolution of the problem.”

Most of the residents around the dump are convinced that, despite their objections and legal challenges, the county will eventually obtain permits to expand the landfill. Most of them are house-hunting, although they do not know when, or even if, the county appraisers will come to set a value on their existing homes.

Alemanni’s prime criterion for a new abode is that it be “as far away as possible from any county facility of any kind.” She has now found such a spot.

Within days after she and her husband had purchased the property, the county Department of Public Works published a notice that 16 sites for future landfills were under consideration.

“And sure enough, there was our property, right under one of the black spots on their map,” she said with a mirthless laugh. “I didn’t know that I was so unlucky.”