Shenanigans on the Boulevard

by Dennis Evanosky

Neighbors on Buell Street near the Home of Peace have lived with a "construction site" far too long. The property owner has failed to secure the site and renew the permits, the neighbors said. The site has lain fallow in one phase of construction or the other for over a year.

A truck on the site has damaged a phone line. Debris litters the neighborhood, just one of the results from having no fence on the site. I went to have a look. I discovered that the public sidewalk ended abruptly in a trench, and a second open trench ran along the same sidewalk, with no warnings or barriers.

I also watched with some concern as a child played on the site. When I asked the child what she was doing, she disappeared into one of the half-finished buildings.

I photographed the sidewalk and trenches and e-mailed the pictures to the city attorney's office. I posed a question as the devil's advocate: What if someone fell into the open trench in the dark, injured him- or herself, and sued the city?

I heard from a deputy city attorney, saying he was investigating the case. His investigation, however, turned out to be a phone call to a code compliance supervisor. The supervisor e-mailed the deputy with assurances that all the permits had been renewed. The supervisor also told the deputy that he was "content with the progress at the site."

Closer inspection showed that the supervisor himself renewed the permits one day after the deputy sent the e-mail. This raises some concern about the way this supervisor does business.

Would the permits have been renewed at all had I not called the city attorney?

Did the supervisor renew the permits without contacting the property owner?

Did the owner pay the renewal fees?

The deputy city attorney ended his e-mail with my favorite bureau-speak sentence: If there's anything else I can do, don't hesitate to call me. Polite translation: Have a nice day; I'm through with you. My translation: Kiss off!

I e-mailed the deputy and assured him I was not finished with him, I was just getting started. The same day, I got a call from the neighbors: EBMUD was working at the site. I photographed the workers at the site and sent a second e-mail to the city attorney and his deputy.

Silence.

Then I got an e-mail from the deputy. He told me that EBMUD had "finalled" (sic) more bureau-speak their work. The trenches would be filled in the next few days. Translation: Yes, we know about the dangerous open trenches, but don't worry, someone will take care of them "in the next few days." Would the city attorney's office issue flashlights in the meantime, I wondered?

I had more questions for the supervisor who issued the permits. Intrigued by how quickly it was done, I wondered if he had even involved the property owner or just renewed them so the paperwork would look right. This bureaucrat's statement, relayed through the deputy, that he was "content with the progress at the site," disturbs me.

I am currently playing phone tag with the employee's supervisor who answered my e-mail with a phone call. She was anxious to talk before my deadline (a frequent plea from city bureaucrats). I returned her call with some simple questions.

Why did the construction site remain open despite complaints that date back to last August?

Have inspections ever been done at this property?

Have there been any penalties assessed against the property for not securing the site and for working on the site after the permits had expired?

The city attorney was gracious enough to speak to me about the issue. He was not sure about any regulation requiring a property owner to fence off a construction site. He found the response from the city "troubling," especially the lack of returned phone calls dating back to August, he said. He requires his employees to return e-mails and phone calls within one day. His deputy did so, I must point out.

"Our job is to provide direct service," he said.

It's a shame other department heads in the city don't feel the same way.

There is some good news. As I reported a while ago, hoodlums had chosen the intersections of Aliso and Elinora Avenues and Carson Street in Redwood Heights to spin "donuts" at all hours. The neighbors, led by fellow Metro writer Meredith Florian, turned to the city for relief.

The city bureaucrats gave the neighbors the mandatory hoops to jump through, and did not do anything more. The neighbors called the Metro. I got Dick Spees involved. He called from Oregon and set up a meeting.

The large turnout for the meeting scheduled in the middle of a weekday for the city bureaucrats' convenience showed the strength of the neighbors' case. The city promised to install "Bott dots," the round plastic devices used to define the center or the edge of the road. They would install the dots all across the intersection. The dots would not affect normal traffic but would prevent the hoodlums from having their fun. The city did install them and on time. The result?

"Things do seem to be better. I am hopeful," Meredith says. "This may have been a small victory, but it's great news for our area." With one exception, which she feels was retaliatory, she says, "I actually haven't heard any donuts since the dots arrived."

Now let's see if some "small victory" lies ahead for Buell Street.

Stay tuned.