The saga of De-Pave Park

These days, the term “activist” usually carries a political connotation.  Indeed, the Merriam Webster dictionary defines “activist” as a person who “uses or supports strong actions (such as public protests) in support of or opposition to one side of a controversial issue.”  Thus, we read of “activists” for abortion rights, gun control, and the like.

But the historical meaning of the term is more inclusive.  An “activist” may describe someone who is seeking to create a public good as well as someone who is promoting a political cause.  And the means chosen may consist of reasoned arguments and not inflammatory speeches.

Today, we tell the story of one such local civic activist:  Richard Bangert.

Since 2014, Mr. Bangert has sought to get the City of Alameda to move forward with a plan to establish an “ecological park” on the western side of the Seaplane Lagoon.  Among the benefits of such a park, he has argued, would be preservation of natural habitat for birds and other wildlife, mitigation of the effects of sea‑level rise, and carbon sequestration.

Earlier this month, City Council took the latest step in the process by approving a design concept that will inform the preparation of a master plan.  Then will come the heavy lifting:  finding the money necessary to pay for actually building the park.  (Assistant City Manager Amy Wooldridge threw out an estimated cost of $20 million, but she cautioned that wasn’t even as firm as a “ballpark” number.  Ms. Wooldridge, we should note, has a proven track record of obtaining financing for City parks like the Jean Sweeney Open Space Park.)

So a lot remains to be done before the western side of the Seaplane Lagoon looks like the nice drawings prepared by the consultants.  But the approval by Council of a design concept that eliminates the two existing commercial buildings and focuses on creating tidal wetlands and wildlife habitats brings the plan closer to the one envisioned by Mr. Bangert in 2014.

The Merry‑Go‑Round is making Mr. Bangert the protagonist of this story not simply because we like him (though we do like him, and have liked him, ever since he defended our favorite Council candidate against insulting – and false – criticism by a blogger during the 2012 campaign) or because we respect him (though we do; indeed, he is our go‑to source for factual information about Alameda Point).

No, our reason for featuring Mr. Bangert is this:  we think it’s fair to say he has been the primary mover‑and‑shaker behind the plan for the ecological park.  (He surely will insist we note that he has not done it all on his own.)  His perseverance has moved the project to the design stage.  This is itself an achievement.  But it also may give inspiration –and guidance – to other civic activists.

The idea for a “De‑Pave Park” can be traced to the Waterfront Town Center “precise plan” prepared by Skidmore Owings & Merrill.  (The name of the park has got to be changed; maybe the City can reassemble the committees that renamed Haight School and Jackson Park to do the job.)  As described in the April 2014 draft of the plan,

The western edge of the Seaplane Lagoon, behind which sits the planned Nature Reserve, is intended to be a park for visitors to enjoy nature and appreciate ecologically rich constructed habitat areas.  “De‑Pave” Park combines a strident ecological agenda with a compelling visitor experience by placing a picnic, camping and interpretive program within a large scale sustainable landscape.  The landscape strategy is to transform this vast paved area into a thriving ecology by removing the paving and nurturing ecological succession.  Existing paved areas are left to remain in specific areas to accommodate circulation and camping/picnic uses. Floating wetland docks could be added for increased habitat, and non motorized boat access.  Existing buildings along the western edge of De‑Pave Park could remain if needed, however sea level rise adaptation strategies for this park area are to allow immersion and succession to a tidal ecology.

The last sentence of this description troubled Mr. Bangert.  There were two existing buildings at the site of the De‑Pave Park.  What did it mean to say that these buildings “could remain if needed”?  This caveat “sets the framework for never moving forward with the plans,” Mr. Bangert wrote in his blog, the Alameda Point Environmental Report. “If the buildings are being leased, the buildings will be ‘needed.’  If the buildings are needed, then the pavement around them will also be needed.”  As Mr. Bangert saw it, the existing buildings should be removed.  Otherwise, “a great opportunity to help rebalance the San Francisco Bay ecosystem will fall through the loopholes.”

After Mr. Bangert posted his piece, the local chapter of the Sierra Club weighed in, addressing the same issue and endorsing the same action.

City staff opposed the removal of Buildings 25 and 29, arguing that the lease revenue they generated “provide[s] crucial support for maintenance and operations of the Alameda Point property.”  (This was to become a common theme in subsequent years.)   Council went along with staff, and the final version of the precise plan failed to call for elimination of the existing buildings.  But Mr. Bangert and the Club did get Council to add a sentence stating that those buildings “may remain and be used for interim leasing until such time as the park is fully funded.”  The implication was that, once the park was funded, the buildings would go.

Enlisting the support of the Sierra Club was a crucial element of Mr. Bangert’s strategy.  The Club may not have the same political clout it once did, and its input usually takes the form of efforts at persuasion rather than threats of retribution.  (Its approach differs from that taken by groups like the Alameda Renters Coalition, whose head sent a text message to Councilman Jim Oddie during a Council meeting warning him:  “You just lost the renters’ votes!”)  But at least some Council members don’t dismiss the Club as if it was the Alameda Citizens’ Task Force; they actually pay attention to its comments.

Thereafter, the Sierra Club continued to make its position known every time De-Pave Park came before Council or the recreation and parks commission, and it was joined by other environmental groups like the Golden Gate Audubon Society (or whatever they’re calling themselves these days) and San Francisco Baykeeper.  In addition, beginning in October 2019, the local organization calling itself CASA (for “Community Action for a Sustainable Alameda”) began submitting letters and sending speakers in support of the ecological park.  Even every right‑thinking Alamedan’s favorite advocacy group, BikeWalk Alameda, jumped on board at one point.

As a veteran of the golf wars, we’re convinced that the ability to tell Council that the “community” – or at least a vocal segment thereof – backs your proposal makes it easier for them to approve it – or at least harder for them to reject it.  Mr. Bangert appears to share our belief.

Having gotten the ecological park into the precise plan, Mr. Bangert importuned staff to take the next step in the process – obtaining funds to prepare a master plan.  But he found no interest.  Then City Manager Eric Levitt declined to include De‑Pave Park in the biannual budget.  Both the Base Reuse staff and the Rec‑Park staff were busy with other projects (Site A and the Jean Sweeney Open Space Park, respectively).  Mr. Bangert did manage to get staff and their consultants to insert a reference to the De‑Pave Park in the Climate Action and Resiliency Plan adopted by Council in July 2019.  But that reference, laudatory as it was, did not commit any funds to the project.

The politicians were no help, either.  Asked by Mr. Bangert to submit a Council referral, Councilman Frank Matarrese demurred on the grounds that “I don’t have the votes.”  Finally, Mr. Bangert managed to convince Councilman Oddie to ask his colleagues to “consider establishing an implementation plan for creating” De‑Pave Park.  This proposal would skip preparing a master plan and go right to designing and building the park.  At Mr. Oddie’s request, Councilman Tony Daysog joined in the referral.

At its October 15, 2019 meeting, Council appeared poised to adopt the referral – until Councilwoman Malia Vella spoke up.  She didn’t oppose the idea of an ecological park, Ms. Vella said, but she wanted a “full report” on pending rec/park projects before Council voted to move ahead with De‑Pave Park.  Vice Mayor John Knox White chimed in that the report should assign a priority to each project and that it should go to the rec/parks commission first.  “I’m fine with that,” Mr. Oddie replied.

So now the planning process halted until two more meetings could occur.  After hearing from Mr. Bangert and an Aubudon Society representative, among others, the rec/parks commission unanimously affirmed that De‑Pave Park was a high‑priority project.  (The commission ranked it ahead of Enterprise Park and the Regional Sports Complex on the list of new projects.)  Another three months went by before the item went to Council.  Mr. Oddie moved to approve the priority list drafted by staff based on the rec/park commission’s recommendations.  This time, apparently satisfied that staff had complied sufficiently with their prior directive, Ms. Vella and Mr. Knox White joined in a unanimous affirmative vote.

And then came the pandemic.

As it turned out, this was something of a blessing in disguise.  CMG, the landscape architectural firm that had worked with SOM on the precise plan, approached Ms. Wooldridge with a proposal:  hurting for work, they would draft a “vision plan” for De‑Pave Park that the City could use to apply for a grant for preparing a master plan.  And they’d do it for a discounted fee.  (A cynic might suggest that CMG intended to generate good will that would give it an advantage when the City selected a consultant to draft the master plan.  In any event, CMG did get that contract.)

CMG consulted with Mr. Bangert and all of the groups that had been active in the planning process, like the Sierra Club, the Audubon Society, and CASA.  The “vision plan” contemplated that Building 29 would be removed, but it made no recommendation about Building 25.  (The drawings showed the park both with and without the building.)

The “vision plan” contained one other notable distinction from the prior plans for De‑Pave Park.  No longer would the park provide picnic or camping areas.  Instead, a bicycle‑pedestrian trail would run the length of the park.  Along the way, there would be several observation points, including some with bird blinds, and, at the far end, closest to the Bay, there would be an elevated view deck.

This change, too, emanated from the environmentalists.  “We want to bring people to the park to enjoy nature, not a sandwich,” Mr. Bangert told us.

Ms. Wooldridge presented the “vision plan” to the rec‑park commission in August 2020.  Mr. Bangert and representatives from the Audubon Society and CASA spoke in favor of it.  So did a representative from San Francisco Baykeeper.  And the commission again unanimously approved the plan.  In addition, it recommended removal of the existing buildings, “with the request to relocate the tenants as feasible.”

When the “vision plan” came before Council a month later, Mr. Knox White once again intervened.  He was “very concerned,” he said, that the groups and persons consulted about the “vision plan” did not include the Alameda Point Collaborative or other Alameda Point residents, who are “one of our most economically and racially disadvantaged groups in the city.”  Indeed, he claimed that, “And then we look at the list of who those important stakeholders are and there is 90% of our community is missing.” Since the “people who actually live here and could use this have no valuable input into the vision,” he would abstain from voting.

Ms. Wooldridge took considerable pains to describe the “outreach” efforts she already had made and promised to meet with APC and Alameda Point residents before she submitted a grant application.  This appeared to satisfy everyone except Mr. Knox White, and the vote was 4‑0‑1 to approve the “vision plan” with the status of Building 25 left for future decision.  In addition, Council directed Ms. Wooldridge to return with a report on the results of the “community outreach process” demanded by Mr. Knox White.  (Here’s the coda:  Ms. Wooldridge kept her word.  She prepared explanatory materials and scheduled and advertised a meeting about the “vision plan” specifically for Alameda Point residents.  Two people showed up.)

Having endured multiple meetings before Council finally voted to reject the scheme to turn a City‑owned golf course into a real‑estate development, we can sympathize with the political hoops Mr. Bangert was made to jump through to reach the stage of an approved “vision plan” that could be used to seek a grant for preparing a master plan.  Unfortunately, there are certain local politicians who insist on putting their own stamp on any proposal presented by staff, even though it’s one that was drafted by experts and vetted by commissions and is supported by all interested parties.  And there also are politicians who cannot resist the urge to grandstand even though they’re appealing only to a small contingent of fellow true believers.  (Defund the police, anyone?)   Alas, that’s just the way the game seems to be played in these parts.

The rest of the story can be quickly told.

After Council approved the “vision plan” in September 2020, the coast was now clear for Ms. Wooldridge to seek grant funding for preparing a master plan.  Aware that the San Francisco Bay Restoration Authority Measure AA funds were available, she applied for a grant in October 2020, but the application was turned down because the City wasn’t contributing any of its own funds.  In September 2021, Ms. Wooldridge got Council to fix that problem by authorizing $50,000 in matching funds.  She re‑applied, and this time, SFBRA awarded the City an $800,000 grant.  The City then entered into a $729,967 contract with CMG for design services.

As CMG began to flesh out the master plan, it sought direction about the fate of Buildings 25 and 29.  The firm proposed three options, all of which called for the removal of Building 29.  Two of the options contemplated keeping Building 25; one called for its ultimate removal.

Council decided to go the third route – as long as care was taken to protect the current Building 25 tenants, including by re‑locating them to another building on the base.  Since staff estimated that Building 25 would not be demolished for another five years, the City would have sufficient time to find a workaround.  Only Councilwoman Trish Spencer, wary of the loss of revenue when the tenants moved out, dissented from the selection of option 3.

Here’s the design approved by Council:

And so that’s where things stand today.  The transformation of the concrete runways on the western shore of the Seaplane Lagoon into an ecological park isn’t happening immediately – but it is happening.  One day, we imagine, we’ll be able to see Ms. Bangert, binoculars in hand, scanning the skies over De‑Pave Park to look for newly arrived bird species.  For our part, we’ll be content to stand on the view deck at the far end of the park and watch the light fade over the San Francisco skyline.

It is typical, after Council has finished discussing a proposal, for the Mayor (and others) to thank the staff and consultants who worked on it.  This they did on November 7, but there was one glaring omission:  None of the politicians expressed any gratitude to Mr. Bangert.  Without his efforts, however, there would have been no one to thank.