Becoming a historic district can revitalize a community, bring neighbors together and occasionally stir things up.
By DAN GORDON, Special to The Times
With its mountain views, mature trees and distinctive architecture, Garfield Heights seemed to special-effects
artist Aprile Boettcher like a movie set that she and her colleagues might create.
In this quaint neighborhood northeast of Pasadena's Old Town, some of the most noted Southland architects
from the late 19th and early 20th centuries had left a signature of wood-framed homes using native river rock
from the Arroyo Seco for retaining walls, chimneys and porch foundations.
But shortly after Boettcher, her husband and their three children moved into their 1906 bungalow, they feared
that the set was about to be torn down.
In 1997, Boettcher learned of plans being considered by the city to put up new subdivisions throughout her
neighborhood. As president of the Garfield Heights Neighborhood Assn., Boettcher spearheaded the type of
grass-roots effort that has become increasingly common in neighborhoods throughout the Southland. In 1999,
Garfield Heights was designated a landmark district by the Pasadena City Council, an act that has preserved
and revitalized the area.
"It shows that we have merit as a neighborhood," said Boettcher. "Now, people are moving in and restoring
homes like crazy."
Similar scenarios have been playing out in neighborhoods throughout Los Angeles, where residential pockets
boast rich collections of Victorian, Tudor, Craftsman, Arts & Crafts, Spanish and other distinctive architecture,
often dating back 100 or more years.
Concerns about changes that compromise the architectural integrity of these areas have led a number of
neighborhoods to seek city recognition as historic districts, thus creating design guidelines and a process for
preventing changes deemed inappropriate.
In the city of Los Angeles, such districts, known as Historic Preservation Overlay Zones, have caught on
dramatically in the past year. Between 1981, when the Echo Park community of Angelino Heights was
established as the first HPOZ, and last March, the city approved nine historic districts. Since March, five more
have been adopted, all in West Adams, the historic area that parallels the Santa Monica Freeway from south of
downtown Los Angeles to Culver City.
HPOZ applications have been submitted to the city by eight other neighborhoods spanning a wide range of
geography and demographic profiles, from Lincoln Heights and Pico-Union to Venice, Los Feliz and Hancock
Park.
"This trend explodes the myth that historic preservation is an elitist concern," said Ken Bernstein, director of
preservation for the Los Angeles Conservancy. "Ethnically and economically diverse neighborhoods see
HPOZs as key to not only their physical preservation, but also their economic regeneration."
Some Concern About Property Rights
Public hearings to consider designating a neighborhood as historic always include a few homeowners concerned
that their private property rights are being infringed. But they have been greatly outnumbered by preservation
supporters.
While safeguarding the historic fabric of the city is part of the concern, the trend is being driven more by
residents who want some say over what happens within their neighborhoods, according to Herb Glasgow, city
planner in charge of the South Los Angeles unit.
Often, an extraordinary act of construction serves as the catalyst--a flashy, castle-like home built amid a sea of
tasteful Spanish Colonial Revivals, for example.
Pasadena's first residential historic landmark designation, for the neighborhood aptly called Bungalow Heaven,
was initiated in the late 1980s by residents who considered a homeowner's decision to replace an early 20th
century Craftsman with an apartment complex the final straw.
"Many of the houses had been stuccoed over in the past," said Jim Galloway, a longtime resident and former
neighborhood association president. Since the historic designation, he added, a number of buyers have come in
and begun removing the stucco to expose the original shingle and/or clapboard. People who appreciate the
craftsmanship of old architecture tend not to look kindly upon the "stucco lovers" who view the material as an
easy and inexpensive way to reduce maintenance (less painting) while making an aging home look new.
The promise of protection against such homeowners has made the Southland's historic districts increasingly
attractive to certain buyers, according to a Realtor who specializes in Victorian and Arts & Crafts architecture
in the West Adams area. "If you were planning to invest $100,000 in restoring your house over the next four
years, you would feel more secure knowing that if 20 other houses on your block were purchased during that
period, the new owners would keep the streetscape intact," said David Raposa, broker-owner for City Living
Realty.
In addition to aesthetics and history, supporters of the historic district concept point to studies in cities
throughout the nation demonstrating the beneficial impact of historic designations on property values. Michael
Olecki insists that anyone strolling a block or two outside his South Carthay historic neighborhood southeast of
Beverly Hills can immediately notice the difference, both in the streets' character and in home values.
"It's like night and day," he said.
"In other areas, it's always great to say a home has a remodeled this and that," added Kelly deLaat of Fred
Sands Beverly Hills, who is active in South Carthay and neighboring Carthay Circle, which became an HPOZ in
1998. "But in a historic district, the homes that are in original, pristine condition demand the highest prices."
Tres and Susan Tanner, who moved into their 90-year-old Craftsman Transitional house in Adams-Normandie
in October, are among those who appreciate the unique character and level of detail associated with older
homes.
"I value those whose craftsmanship creates something really beautiful," said Tres Tanner.
"These houses are an endangered species," said Natalie Neith of Fred Sands Estates Hancock Park, who sold
the Tanners their home. "You can't afford to have houses built like that today."
The fact that buyers can get more house for their money in West Adams and many of the other historic areas of
Los Angeles serves as an added plus, Neith said.
Historic-district residents also point to the community pride that comes with the preservation effort.
In California Heights, one of Long Beach's 13 historic districts, a number of residents have chipped in $500
apiece to restore lampposts that had been originally installed in the 1920s and '30s, but had lost much of their
decorative trim over the years. That sense of community was one of the intangible benefits that appealed to
architect Tracy Stone, who bought in Angelino Heights in 1991.
"I liked that there were people here who were interested in the neighborhood, above and beyond their own
house," she said. Stone was also pleased to find a more diverse population than she had seen in other areas.
"You have white-collar professionals moving in and restoring homes side-by-side with recent immigrants who
are here because of the affordability of the neighborhood," she said. "This brings people together across
cultures and interests, and makes for an interesting environment."
Largest Concentration of Victorian Homes
Angelino Heights, located between the Hollywood Freeway and Sunset Boulevard west of Dodger Stadium, was
the first Los Angeles neighborhood designated an HPOZ, in 1981. Developed in the 1880s, it includes the city's
largest concentration of Victorian architecture, as well as classic Craftsmans added at the turn of the century.
In her role as a member of the neighborhood's HPOZ board, Stone reviews requests for any new construction,
demolition or exterior alteration, making sure the change will not negatively affect a home's historic character.
(Interior changes do not require approval.) The five-member HPOZ panel works in conjunction with the city of
Los Angeles Planning Department. Replacing windows, adding walls or fences, changing paint colors and
altering landscaping are among the most common requests to go before HPOZ boards.
The potential for neighbor-versus-neighbor acrimony is one reason that some cities prefer not to have
residential boards reviewing design requests. But the process is mostly harmonious, said Olecki, who serves on
the South Carthay HPOZ board.
"People who are attracted to a historic neighborhood generally want to do the right thing," he said.
Certainly, there are exceptions--instances in which homeowners circumvent the process, knowingly or not, by
replacing their vintage wood windows with aluminum sliders, for example.
Concerned neighbors who fail to talk the violators out of their action can bring them to the attention of the
HPOZ board members or city planning officials overseeing the historic preservation process.
Ultimately, enforcing the ordinance falls to the Department of Building and Safety. But preservationists
complain that enforcement can be erratic.
Historic district overseers say they would rather focus on education and prevention anyway.
"The best strategy is to welcome new homeowners to the neighborhood, make sure they know this is a historic
district where everyone's goal is to protect the character of these houses, and explain that there are regulations
they need to follow," said Ruthann Lehrer, neighborhood and historic preservation officer for the city of Long
Beach.
Historic neighborhoods typically promote awareness of their status through newsletters, signs and home tours.
In Angelino Heights, the HPOZ board attempts to send letters to all Realtors who put up "for sale" signs in the
neighborhood advising them of the area's HPOZ status, as well as "welcome" letters to new owners. But in a
district with some 1,500 properties, Stone admitted, some are bound to slip through the cracks.
A neighborhood's historic status is considered a disclosure item in real estate transactions, but some Realtors,
particularly those who are less familiar with the turf, fail to bring it to buyers' attention.
Some of the more vigilant historic-district residents take it upon themselves to make sure prospective buyers
and their agents are informed.
Carol McCafferty, a 14-year resident of the Drake Park-Willmore City historic neighborhood of
turn-of-the-century homes in Long Beach, became frustrated after two new homeowners began putting stucco
over their clapboards and replacing their vintage wooden windows shortly after buying. McCafferty began
calling Realtors who list in the district to make sure they were disclosing the zoning restrictions to potential
buyers.
"If we can catch them, we can stop the stucco jobs," she said. "But it means walking and walking and walking."
Efforts Are Not Without Controversy
The aggressive efforts to preserve historic neighborhoods aren't without controversy. A home sale fell through
in the Carthay Circle district last year after the would-be buyer's inquiry about building a fence around the
perimeter of the property--located on a busy intersection--was rebuffed by the HPOZ board.
"The house had a lot of character, but it needed a tremendous amount of work," said Mickey Kessler, an
estates director at Fred Sands Realtors, who represented the interested family.
Kessler felt he had secured ideal buyers--the man was a contractor who had no intention of changing the
structure. But the house had no backyard, and before purchasing the home, the couple had wanted assurance
that their three kids would be safe to play in the front.
"Historic districts serve a valuable purpose in maintaining the architectural integrity of our city," Kessler said.
"But it's also important to be sensitive to changing neighborhoods. It's true that there weren't fences when that
area was developed, but there wasn't a need for them because traffic wasn't so heavy."
Many home buyers, whether motivated by convenience, the promise of less maintenance or simply personal
taste, prefer a more modern look. That's fine with preservationists, as long as these buyers are duly steered
away from the historic areas. "These are special neighborhoods, hidden pockets that people might not see
every day," said the L.A. Conservancy's Bernstein. "They have a distinct look and feel to them, and a historic
character. They are definitely worth preserving."