Nicks of Time
After 25 years, a Standoff between Owners and Preservationists Ends, and La Jolla's Oldest Cottages Narrowly Escape Demolition by Neglect.
By Jad Davenport | Online Only | Aug. 29, 2003
The last cottages standing: The Red Roost and Red Rest, built in 1894 in La Jolla, Calif.
Credit: SOHO
What more than a century of Pacific storms with gale-force winds and torrential rains couldn't do—destroy the two surviving examples of the California bungalow in the seaside town of La Jolla—the cottages' property owners very nearly managed to do in 25 years.
"It's called demolition by neglect," explains Bruce Coons, executive director of the Save our Heritage Organization (SOHO), a local preservation nonprofit in this town north of San Diego. "And when it came to the Red Roost and Red Rest, they almost succeeded."
The Red Roost and Red Rest, two wooden single-walled bungalows listed on the National Register for Historic Places, were built in 1894. Set right on the beach and shaded by palm trees, they are the oldest buildings in La Jolla. "They were put on the National Register because they are the original West Coast bungalows," Coons says, "forerunners of the arts and crafts bungalows that would later become so popular." Locals say the twin structures—owned by La Jolla-based Cove Properties Inc., a subsidiary of the adjacent La Jolla Cove Hotel and Motel Apartments—are very much the quintessential heart of the Victorian beach community. Souvenir shops stack photographs of the cottages in their heyday on postcard racks. Scientists and professors who started the nearby Scripps Institute of Oceanography were among the cottages' first tenants.
A cottage before neglect
Credit: SOHO
In the late 1970s, Jack Heimburge, patriarch of one of the families who owns Cove Properties Inc., requested permission from the Coastal Commission to demolish the cottages. When his request was denied in 1977, recalls Coons, Heimburge was furious. "He wanted to build a multi-story hotel on the property, and the Coastal Commission said no. He became adamant that he wouldn't let the government tell him what to do with his land."
Donovan Rypkema, founder and principal of the Washington, D.C.-based Real Estate Services Group and author of "The Economics of Historic Preservation: A Community Leader's Guide," says such sentiments are common. Rypkema, who calls himself a "crass, unrepentant real-estate capitalist Republican type," sums up the argument as, "It's my property, and I have a right to do with it as I please."
Often, Rypkema says, the property-rights argument centers around profit. The belief that "I'm entitled to develop my property to its highest and best use," he says, is a semantic trap. "Highest and best use does not mean the most profitable use imaginable. If it did, we would have topless bars, hog rendering plants, and hazardous waste disposal plants in every residential neighborhood in America."
Rypkema distills the concept to an old adage: "My right to swing my fist ends where your nose begins. That principles applies to real-estate ownership and use as well."
Red Roost's roof last year
Credit: SOHO
Whatever their reasons, the property owners evicted the tenants and embarked on what Coons calls the worst case of demolition by neglect he's ever seen. In a parting act of defiance, and in hopes of gaining publicity for the plight of the two structures, SOHO and the evicted tenants re-roofed the bungalows and gave them two fresh coats of bright red paint.
New paint and shingles, however, last only so long. By January 2000, when the city passed a law protecting historic properties against demolition by neglect, the cottages were becoming eyesores. Portions of their roofs had started to collapse. The new law required that historic structures be in immediate move-in condition with safe, functioning utilities, says Coons. "That just wasn't the case with the Red Roost and Red Rest." So SOHO put pressure on the city to enforce the law, and a case file of violations began.
While SOHO waited for the city to enforce code violations, the group tried to broker other solutions, encouraging a development that would retain the properties. "The community—the realtors and residents who had originally pushed for the historic designation—were up in arms about the neglect," Coons says. "We had a number of San Diego's most prominent families offering to buy the property." At the time, the less-than-an acre property was worth an estimated $3.5 million, Coons says. "But the owners refused to sell, even at over-market rates. They just decided they didn't want to be told what to do."
The Red Rest last year
Credit: SOHO
Last year, it looked like the owners were winning. The structures were further threatened by a string of arson attempts. Frustrated, and feeling time was running out for the two icons of early California, SOHO filed a lawsuit against the property owners in September 2002. Susan Brandt-Hawley, owner of the Brandt-Hawley Law Group in Sonoma County, headed the litigation. "It isn't unusual for a property owner to purposefully ignore maintenance," she says. "In this case, it was taking the city an excruciatingly long time to take action against the owners under code enforcement."
SOHO's case was simple: "We were suing to force the owners to comply with the same laws that apply to every other commercial property owner. You can't just let property deteriorate like that," Brandt-Hawley explains. "We sued them for unfair competition. They weren't following the laws that every other business owner had to obey; therefore, they were at an advantage."
It was an advantage Cove Properties Inc. saw slipping away in the face of legal action. Faced with a lawsuit and potentially bad publicity, the company entered into an informal agreement to cooperate in exchange for the withdrawal of the lawsuit. SOHO officially withdrew from litigation in the spring of 2003.
Richard Annen, a managing partner with Sparber Fergusson, which represents Cove Properties, Inc,. declined Preservation Online's requests for an interview but told the local newspaper, the La Jolla Light, that the owners are reviewing redevelopment plans that include preserving one cottage and turning the other into a restaurant for the adjacent La Jolla Cove Hotel. In addition, the paper reports, the owners want to build 13 timeshare units on the property.
Better days are ahead for the cottages.
Credit: SOHO
As for the cottages, Coons says they are now in a state of arrested decay. "The owners have cut back the weeds and tarped the roofs. They have said they will continue to meet with us and keep the cottages weather-tight and mothballed until development is approved, probably in early 2005."
After a two-decade battle, Coons looks back with mixed feelings. He's disappointed by the senseless waste of time and near-destruction of the landmarks, but he's pleased with the new relationship with the property owners. "For the first time in a long, long time," Coons says, "things are going in the right direction."
When asked if the battle to save Red Roost and Red Rest is over, he thinks for a moment. "I'd like to say yes. I'd like to see the buildings restored, and I'd like to see the owners getting revenue from them." Coons pauses, then adds, "But then again, preservation is never really over."
Jad Davenport is a freelance writer living in Denver.
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