Cothran

At the time, the Planning Department said it was eager to include Bloomfield's updated study among its planning tools, once she was done with it.

To Peskin and his allies, including Bloomfield, this bureaucratic nicety rang of dishonesty. It was unclear when the updating might be complete, given the unpredictable nature of Bloomfield's illness (which she requested I not identify). Also, the city planners knew full well that the age of the study was irrelevant. City planners routinely use two older architectural studies -- one from 1968 and one from 1976 -- in making their determinations.

Upon hearing of the Planning Department's ruling, the state Office of Historic Preservation fired off two scathing letters -- at least, they were as scathing as bureaucrats can be -- upbraiding the planners for their ignorance and mischaracterization of the study. The state officials also offered some not-so-subtle reminders that it was the job of the Planning Department, rather than the Telegraph Hill Dwellers Association, to conduct and update such studies.

But it got worse than that. It isn't just that the Planning Department has abdicated its duty to protect the historically and architecturally significant. When Peskin and his friends tried to do what the Planning Department refused to, the department moved to stop them.

You should've been at the Board of Supervisors' Transportation and Land-Use Committee meeting last week when the Planning Department, communicating in the coded language of the Willie Brown era, tried to scuttle attempts to have Bloomfield's 1982 survey of North Beach adopted as a planning document.

Neil Hart, the department's so-called preservation expert, spoke of the resolution to adopt the study as if it would do things extraordinary and harmful. He told the committee members that if the resolution were to pass, historic buildings could not be demolished or altered, unless the city, abiding by CEQA, prepared environmental impact reports and held hearings. Actually, Hart was just saying, Supervisors, for heaven's sake, if you do this we will have to start following the law.

But Hart used a dire, Chicken Little tone of voice. He warned the supervisors of the "consequences" of their actions. He revealed to the supervisors on the committee the exact danger, the precise awful consequence, that the resolution would effect. "The environmental review officer would have to review things, which could delay building permits," he said.

Until a few years ago, this kind of comment would just roll off supervisors' backs. But with Willie Brown as mayor, such a statement is code for something along these lines: This could hurt any number of the mayor's development deals. And we don't want that, right?

Supervisor Leslie Katz, who was first appointed to the board by the mayor, seemed to understand the code, and responded in kind. To calm poor little alarmed Neil Hart, she stressed that the resolution was merely an advisory measure, one that urged the Planning Department to adopt the study, but did not require adoption.

It was more Willie Brown-era code that translates, roughly, as follows:
Oh, Neil, don't make such an awful fuss. Look, it isn't like this thing we are voting on actually has the force of law or anything. You guys can simply ignore it (and us) if it messes with any of Willie's deals.

Make no mistake about why the Planning Department is avoiding its responsibilities by ignoring a natural part of its job. The permit applications might not be filed yet, but I would bet substantial amounts of money that Willie's friends have development plans for North Beach -- and a lot of other places in this city -- if their patron gets re-elected.

And perhaps that's why the mayor's underlings are in such a state over the prosaic research of a gravely ill woman.

Aaron Peskin helped fight City College for more than a year to save the historic Colombo building from demolition. He may use "ciao" and "ta-ta" in everyday conversation, but he is serious as can be when it comes to preserving the character of North Beach. He and his fellow activists will watchdog every project. They will keep reminding city planners of the intellectual dishonesty of their position on the Bloomfield study. And who knows, Bloomfield's condition might improve, and she might ram an updated North Beach survey down the mayor's gob.

And -- who knows -- this kind of thing might be catching.
I hear some folks in the Sunset are already thinking of hiring their own historian and doing their own survey with some of the state money the city doesn't seem interested in. Imagine how hard it will be for the mayor's friends to make the maximum amount of money possible if every neighborhood follows the North Beach example. Heavens, those development-minded friends might actually, every now and then, be forced to respect the character and integrity of the city, as they get rich.

I guess the mayor's planning lackeys are correct. The North Beach preservation activists are dangerous radicals.

George Cothran (gcothran@sfweekly.com) can be reached at SF Weekly, 185 Berry, Suite 3800, San Francisco,