"History is not a prison," say historians. But at Wednesday night's meeting of the city Planning Commission, history became a hot and stuffy room from which neither Franklin & Marshall College nor its neighbors could escape.
In Lancaster City Council chambers, a debate on an F&M housing proposal designed, college officials say, to alleviate some of the problems that students have caused in the west end community, quickly devolved into a dialogue of the deaf.
F&M officials and its developer, Kevin Silverang, an alum whose Silverang Hallowell Development Co., will purchase, renovate, own and manage residential properties for student housing, attempted to allay residents' fears.
Silverang said he is investing $17 million in the neighborhood to buy and bring homes up to, and in some cases above (each residence will have sprinkler systems), city code. Each Silverang property will show a bronze plaque with phone numbers residents can call to report problems. Silverang has contracted a local management firm to provide 24/7 service.
F&M can begin work without city approval, but the college is asking for a zoning "overlay" to supersede the existing ordinance. Now, only two or three unrelated individuals can occupy a rental property. The overlay would allow each bedroom of a unit to be occupied if the property were part of F&M's "approved housing" stock.
This raised the ire of residents who worked with the former Lancaster Mayor Art Morris administration to implement the current zoning ordinance to eliminate overcrowding.
F&M, the applicants in this process, openly outlined past student indiscretions. They tried to explain how the proposal would deal with future infractions. They touted the idea that residents would now have "one point of contact" as opposed to the 91 landlords who previously rented in the area. They said the college would evict students who violated codes of conduct.
Keith Orris, F&M's vice president for administrative services and external affairs, admitted: "Students not managed aren't the best neighbors."
The residents weren't buying it.
Many have dealt with the same problems for years — drinking, noise, parties, drug use, competition for parking, students roaming the sidewalks late at night and all-too-often urinating in yards.
Their sloganeer might be former Mayor Charlie Smithgall, who owns property and a business in the district. He said flatly of student misbehavior, "You can't control it. I don't care what you say."
Residents have balked at F&M proposals before.
When the college wanted to install security cameras to provide another level of safety for its students, neighbors saw Big Brother at work. The installation of a median strip in the middle of Harrisburg Pike was, to the college, a "traffic-calming" measure. Some residents said it posed a hazard to emergency vehicles and offered students an "island" to dash both to and from oncoming cars. More traffic calming measures on College and Race avenues, speed bumps and crosswalks, have proven unpopular.
Others note that the college, a nonprofit, does not pay local property taxes, or make donations in lieu of taxes.
At Wednesday night's meeting, one problem may have been that the initial presentation was too long.
With members of a packed house champing at the bit to have their say, city representatives, F&M officials and Silverang opened with a detailed presentation, forcing the crowd to sit on its hands for more than 90 minutes.
At one point, a man started pacing in the back of the room and said dismissively, "They're filibustering."
The meeting began on an ominous note when, less than five minutes in, City Planning Commission Chairman Fred Ward explained the ground rules and pleaded "for civility."
The reason for his request soon became evident. During Chief City Planner Paula Jackson's presentation, she called to the back of the room to ask city Zoning Officer Walt Siderio if her explanation of the city's parking requirements was correct. Siderio nodded and said, "Sounds great." The seemingly innocuous exchange elicited a mumbled "bull----" from someone in the back of the room.
It also didn't help that the sound system made speakers difficult to understand. Constantly having to shout "we can't hear you" didn't make people any happier.
It wasn't until 8:55 p.m. that planning commission members got their first shot. Member Jon Lyons took a skeptical approach to the fact that F&M and Silverang had entered into a 10-year agreement. The idea, said Orris, is for neighborhood student housing to serve as an interim measure while F&M constructs a new dormitory and renovates its older ones as part of its goal to eventually house all of its students.
Lyons wondered what was going to happen to the properties once the students were moved to on-campus sites.
F&M's response was that the houses would be sold to F&M staff and faculty, or Lancaster General Hospital staff.
Not until 9:15 p.m. did the neighbors get the floor. Eight people fell instantly in line behind the podium (more stood and joined the queue after others spoke) and the game was on.
Parking was first. The college will provide off-site parking spaces that are not always located nearby the units. David Hommel, of Charlotte Street, wondered why F&M thought students would actually use these spaces rather than park on the street, observing that in College Hill, "Your students will not walk 500 yards from their parking spaces now!"
The second speaker, attorney Jerome Finefrock, who lives in the 300 block of North Pine Street, told F&M that neighbors have already contacted him about pursuing litigation.
Then the long-standing "town-gown" issues emerged as resident after resident recounted his or her history of dealing with loud parties, drinking, drugs and disrespectful students.
A number of speakers referenced Silverang being from Philadelphia. One speaker even asked him directly and somewhat sarcastically, "Mr. Silverang, are you from Philadelphia or New York?"
As the crowd warmed up and began to applaud and cheer each other's statements, the Planning Commission, the body that will ultimately make a recommendation to City Council, faded into the background.
Speakers grabbed the microphone and turned their backs on the commission to play directly to the crowd. One speaker walked back and forth, waving her arms to the crowd as if delivering a monologue. It looked like an "open mic night" had broken out.
Sometimes the drama detracted from the message. One speaker scolded the F&M contingent for (years ago) increasing its student population to a point where it couldn't house them all on its campus. "If you couldn't house them, you shouldn't have admitted them," he said.
He emphatically ripped off his glasses to shake them at the F&M representatives, which elicited a crowd reaction of approval.
Real estate broker Bill Puffer restored some calm. He described the city's real estate market as "healthy, but fragile" and contended the zoning overlay was unnecessary.
"If we were talking about an area of dilapidated homes, sure, but we're talking about an area that is thriving," he said.
Referring to the overlay's goal of allowing one student per bedroom, Puffer adopted a conciliatory stance. "We can accommodate the need for student housing," he said, "but not for student rooming housing, by leaving our ordinance as it is."
By 10:15 p.m., people were straggling out. Lyons and Silverang engaged in a Q&A that smacked of a cross-examination (no coincidence as they're both attorneys).
Two more residents had their say, and the commission quickly voted to table the proposal until its next meeting.
Chip Smedley is a Sunday News staff writer. You can e-mail him at csmedley@lnpnews.com.
