Plan’s Death Doesn’t Kill Land Debate

Amid rancorous debate over tribal development rights, Chumash Indians and former actor Fess Parker have abandoned plans to build a resort hotel and luxury homes on 745 acres of rolling ranchland here.

The project -- the first of its kind proposed by a California tribe -- collapsed after Chumash leaders and Parker failed to agree on key details, including the size of the hotel and the value of the land.

Wealthy residents in this rural Santa Barbara County township have fought to prevent the Chumash and Parker from developing the property under Indian sovereignty laws, which would trump local land-use restrictions. During the last 18 months, community activists have raised more than $500,000, collected thousands of protest signatures and boycotted Parker’s businesses.

“There is a huge sigh of relief,” said Carol Herrera, president of Women’s Environmental Watch of Santa Ynez. “This would have changed our community overnight.”

But the battle is far from over.

Efforts by the Chumash and other affluent tribes to expand their reservations under a Depression-era law intended to compensate impoverished Native Americans for the loss of tribal lands are being closely watched across the nation.

In one case in August, Gov. Arnold Schwarzenegger joined the Santa Barbara County Board of Supervisors in opposing a bid by the Chumash to convert 5.7 acres to “Indian country” status. The governor’s office warned that federal approval of the annexation could affect more than 75 million acres of territory claimed by California tribes.

Lands placed into federal trust by the U.S. Bureau of Indian Affairs are no longer subject to the authority of state and local governments to levy taxes, enforce zoning laws or impose environmental restrictions.

The BIA oversees more than 54 million acres owned by Indian tribes and individuals. During the last five years, the agency has placed more than 11,000 acres into trust on behalf of at least 31 tribes in California. The state is home to 107 federally recognized tribes.

The Chumash, formally the Santa Ynez Band of Mission Indians, operate one of the most profitable gambling enterprises in the state. A new Mediterranean-style casino resort features 2,000 slot machines, a 106-room luxury hotel, a concert hall and two parking structures. Casino revenues exceed $200 million a year, and each of the tribe’s 154 members receives about $350,000 annually.

In recent years, the Chumash have applied to annex 22 parcels totaling about 25 acres. Much of the land borders Highway 246, long the dividing line between the reservation and downtown Santa Ynez.

Tribal leaders expect the BIA to approve the annexation of the 5.7-acre plot. They also are moving ahead with plans for a museum, cultural center and shops on an adjacent 6.9-acre site.

The annexations created little controversy in the bucolic Santa Ynez Valley before the Chumash unveiled plans in March of last year to build as many as 500 luxury homes, a resort hotel, two championship golf courses and an equestrian center on Parker’s ranchland.

Chumash leaders said the project would enable the tribe to diversify its financial investments beyond gambling and to alleviate a housing shortage by providing about 150 new reservation homes for members and their descendants.

Parker paid $6 million for 1,428 acres in the heart of the valley in 1998 but was stymied by zoning laws that allowed no more than five housing sites. To sidestep county and state land-use regulations, he approached the Chumash with the idea of placing the property in federal trust.

Members of the Chumash tribe voted overwhelmingly to form a partnership with Parker and pay $12 million to jointly develop 745 acres on the property. Tribal leaders counted on the lanky Texan’s legendary fame and his business acumen to win over longtime adversaries in Santa Ynez.

“I wanted, in a way, to be their ombudsman,” said Parker, who became famous 50 years ago playing frontiersmen Davy Crockett and Daniel Boone.

But county supervisors, civic leaders, fellow celebrities and even close friends and neighbors chastised Parker for betraying the community’s commitment to the preservation of open space.

Some residents refused to patronize Parker’s bed-and-breakfast in Los Olivos and restaurants that served wines from his award-winning vineyard. Stop signs in the area were plastered with green “FESS” stickers.

A full-page newspaper ad by songwriter Bernie Taupin, a Santa Ynez resident, vowed to “snap at Mr. Parker’s lanky heels till his skin is raw.”

“The Parker project was a big wake-up call,” said Nancy Eklund, who moved here 25 years ago and operates a 10-acre horse farm. “The ability [of the Chumash] to engage in unrestrained development that is completely inconsistent with the quality and character of this community was scary. Most people moved here to specifically get away from that.”

Eklund is board secretary of Santa Ynez Valley Concerned Citizens Inc., a group of residents that has hired lawyers, lobbyists and public relations experts to oppose the project in Santa Barbara County, Sacramento and Washington.

Tribal leaders say they have grown accustomed to hostile treatment from many Santa Ynez residents. Community groups opposed Chumash plans to expand the casino, build an adjoining hotel, obtain alcoholic beverage licenses and negotiate sewer agreements with local municipalities.

“If we were to build a new hospital for the valley, it would be challenged,” said tribal Chairman Vincent Armenta. “There will be confrontation on anything the tribe has to do. It is just something we have to deal with.”

Community leaders insist that their aggressive campaign is not motivated by any ill will or bias toward their Native American neighbors. Rather, they say, it is about curtailing unchecked development in a valley where vineyards, horse farms and livestock ranches still abound.

“I don’t have a problem with tribes buying whatever land they want, so long as they play by the same rules as everyone else,” said rock musician David Crosby, who has lived on a Santa Ynez ranch for a decade.

Under federal law, Crosby said, tribes “can put a pig farm next to your house or a cement factory next to a school. It isn’t right. This is America.”

Critics point out that Congress passed the Indian Reorganization Act in 1934 to help underprivileged tribes achieve financial independence -- not to establish a welfare program for rich tribes such as the Chumash.

Still, Armenta and Parker had remained confident that they would prevail over their opponents.

“At what point in time are they going to get tired of losing?” Armenta said last fall.

But the deal fell apart in recent months as the tribe and Parker were unable to negotiate a final agreement. Parker said Chumash officials wanted a 300-room hotel, while he was hoping for “something more modest.” Some tribal members became increasingly concerned about Parker’s dictating the terms of the development.

Recent negotiations focused on the possibility of the tribe’s acquiring the land directly from Parker and going it alone. But the Chumash backed away after Parker submitted an appraisal that estimated the value starting at $75,000 per acre -- or $55 million.

“I think that convinced them they are better off finding something else,” Parker said.

Now Parker, who turned 81 in August, wants to preserve most of the property as open space.

“We’re going to run cattle, maybe plant some alfalfa and maintain it as part of my family’s holdings,” he said.

He envisions a “first-class” resort of up to 80 Spanish ranch-style rooms on about 30 acres. As an enticement, he is offering to construct a community park with soccer and baseball fields.

Parker said he hoped to see his scaled-down resort completed within four years “if people realize I’m willing to go through the process. But I want to be welcomed, and I want support from the community.”

Fat chance, say residents who worked feverishly to derail Parker’s joint venture.

“Nobody is going to give Fess Parker a break in this community,” said Herrera, the environmental activist.

To succeed, Parker acknowledges that he needs the support of Brooks Firestone, the local county supervisor who has been a longtime opponent of the tribe’s expansion plans.

When asked about the viability of a smaller Parker development, Firestone replied: “He can talk all he wants, but other ranches have had these plans and it hasn’t happened.”

Chumash leaders say they’ll pursue other opportunities to expand tribal housing. For now, the tribe is concentrating on the museum complex. The BIA in January endorsed placing the land for that project into trust, a decision being appealed by the county and community groups.

“It is not in the interest of the county in any way to have more land annexed,” Firestone said. “And it’s not fair that a business entity that is no different than Marriott or Hilton or Trump can do whatever it wants with no taxes and no regulation.”

The Chumash application to annex the nearby 5.7-acre property prompted a scathing critique from the Schwarzenegger administration.

In an Aug. 26 letter, the governor’s top aide on Indian gambling urged the BIA to deny annexation because the tribe would have an “unfair commercial advantage” over neighboring businesses.

County officials estimate that placing the 5.7 acres into federal trust would result in a loss of more than $42 million in tax revenues over 50 years.

The governor’s office also challenged the tribe’s claim to thousands of acres of property in Santa Ynez.

“If this Tribe is permitted to acquire land in trust when it has no immediate need for that land, other tribes in the state may claim entitlement to the same treatment,” wrote Peter Siggins, the governor’s interim chief of staff.

The opinion of the Schwarzenegger administration should have little, if any, bearing on the tribe’s annexation plans, Chumash leaders predicted.

“The governor’s office continually goes against Native American tribes in California,” said Armenta, the tribal chairman. “I’m not surprised one bit.”

Times staff researcher Maloy Moore contributed to this report.