Inland Empire Developer Back in the Spotlight

State water officials recently discovered that developers had leveled three patches of land near Temecula, allowing storm water, sediment and pollutants to run into nearby creeks. Given the pace of development in the Inland Empire, they weren’t terribly stunned.

Their next discovery, however, has placed one of the largest landowners in southern Riverside County back at the center of a fierce debate over the Temecula region’s magnificent--and increasingly cluttered--rolling hills.

According to the water officials, the three projects were run by one man: Bill Johnson, an unabashed property rights advocate and a man who fancies himself a king of real estate, but who seems more like the prince of pipe dreams to his critics. The water officials will begin weighing substantial fines against Johnson in coming weeks.

“Johnson has become the poster boy for the lousy developer,” said Kerry Mayer, 55, a retiree who lives west of Temecula and is a leader of boisterous opposition to one of Johnson’s projects.

Johnson, just six years after filing for bankruptcy, is once again linked to several sizable building projects in southern Riverside County. He estimates he has sold 90,000 acres of real estate in the past 30 years in the Temecula region--and he is as unrepentant as ever.

His real estate office features a 7-foot steel statue he calls “Dancing Horse.” It is a monument, he says, that stands in defense of those who own property and, he believes, are under assault from “radical” environmentalists and government officials.

He sees it like this: In recent years, environmental groups have become increasingly adept at blocking developments, then setting aside privately owned property in the name of preservation. The groups, he charges, then sell off pieces of that land for a profit to other development companies that use it to prove to government regulators that they are preserving open space.

It is nothing short of a conspiracy, he says, “a redistribution of wealth” from private property owners to preservationists. And it has touched him personally: Johnson says he lost $20 million when environmentalists managed to derail two of his housing developments on the nearby Santa Rosa Plateau.

“The rights of private property owners are under such assault that the price for not speaking out is too great. But it’s tough to speak out on these issues,” Johnson said. “You’ve got radical environmental groups out there that will target you and vilify you.”

Mayer, however, is hardly the prototypal preservationist--and he is not alone.

He’s dabbled in real estate himself. He describes some of his allies in the fight against Johnson’s proposals as “Birkenstock tree huggers.” He’s quick to tell you that he knows “good, sensible development” when he sees it. And he’s just as quick to say that Johnson’s proposed Walker Basin project, which would be built close to Mayer’s five-acre spread west of Interstate 15, isn’t it.

“I just think there’s some responsibility when you are a property developer. If you’re going to [build], you ought to have some sense for the community. . . . I don’t see any vision.”

Johnson initially proposed a 1,600-home golfing community in the area, then trimmed the plans to 925 homes. But this summer, Riverside County officials said the project was still too big, and asked Johnson to scale back his proposal to 106 houses, allowing for larger lots that would be more in tune with the surrounding area.

Johnson says the project can’t make money if he’s restricted to 106 homes, but most of the residents in the area disagree. The rural area is dotted with affluent retirees whose homes rest on three- to five-acre estates, many of them coated with citrus and avocado trees, the oldest of which were planted by Johnson himself.

“We’re happy with 106,” said Clif Hewlett, another Temecula-area resident who is critical of Johnson’s developments. “Anything more than that wouldn’t work. . . . Bill Johnson is not really a developer. He’s a salesman. We don’t want a lot of schlock around here. It just doesn’t fit.”

The Walker Basin project isn’t the only Johnson plan under attack.

He is a key figure in a development consortium that wants to build a resort, a cluster of wineries and thousands of homes on the shores of Vail Lake, an ecological gem near Temecula that was established by relatives of the famed rancher Walter Vail in the 1940s.

Johnson’s group purchased the property after government officials failed to raise the $20 million necessary to turn it into a preserve for endangered species. The development plans have given environmentalists fits, and the project has been the subject of repeated protests and legal challenges.

Most recent, however, are the charges by the San Diego Regional Water Quality Board, the state agency that protects water quality in portions of southern Riverside County and other areas, that Johnson has failed to protect three new developments against erosion and storm water runoff.

The state requires developers to take steps, such as adding vegetation or laying down fabric filters, to protect the environment near construction sites. That wasn’t done on several of Johnson’s current projects--a hotel and office complex, a retail plaza and a housing development, said Frank Melbourn, the board’s water resource control engineer.

In one case, Melbourn said, sediment and runoff tumbled into two area creeks, endangering frogs and fish as well as water flow.

On Sept. 14, the Water Quality Board will consider fining Johnson $800,000 for two of the violations. A third violation, which could bring fines of more than $400,000, will be weighed this fall, Melbourn said. Johnson said he is addressing the violations, though he disputed the charges at one of the sites, saying it was not in the board’s jurisdiction.

“I think that we’re doing everything we can to responsibly manage these sites and complete the work,” Johnson said. “If I have erred in this, I will accept the responsibility. We’re doing what we can.”