Gary Smith and his wife, Linda, moved to the Parker area 40 years ago. As he tells it, all “you saw were cows and horses.”
We all realize that suburban Denver’s landscape has dramatically changed. Nowadays, biting down on a bloated bacon cheeseburger at Applebee’s is about as close as locals are going to get to a cow.
Smith was clever enough — or perhaps lucky enough — to invest in some land in the area a decade ago. Now, obviously, he’s in line to make a killing.
For Smith, the problem is the affectionate gaze of local government. Smith’s land — where a family nursery and landscaping business stands — also happens to be an ideal spot for an expansion of local parks and open space.
According to Smith, town leaders in Parker believe his insistence on a fair market-value price is “selfish” and his negotiating strategy nothing more than “gouging.”
As many local municipalities are prone to do nowadays, Parker is determined to seize the property. For the common good, of course.
The town could buy it after negotiating a price, sure. Or it could just use eminent domain and condemn the property.
Which option do you think Parker chose?
“I’m in favor of using this land for parks,” explains Smith, who concedes he’s ready to sell the land. “I’d rather have open space than housing or development in this spot. There are wetlands here. A bird sanctuary. A creek that runs through it. So it is a great location. But there is a fair price for the land.”
Here’s another important factoid: Smith’s land is not even in Parker. It’s in Douglas County.
To overcome such piddling concerns, municipalities form intergovernment relationships, as is the case here.
But in 2004, in response to the trend of abusive eminent- domain cases like this one, the Colorado legislature passed a law prohibiting municipalities like Parker from condemning property outside its boundaries “in absence of consent of the landowner and the local government in whose territory the property is located.”
That statute is now being reviewed by the Colorado Supreme Court after a case involving Telluride and a condemnation process levied against land outside its boundaries. The owner of the property in question had no interest in selling.
Parker did not wait for the outcome of the case.
Jim Maloney, the Parker town attorney, says Smith’s land is within the town’s growth boundary.
“It’s the last piece of land that’s not ours in the whole Cherry Creek corridor,” he explains.
“So what?” one might retort. Is it Smith’s problem that he lucked out with some primo property?
Two Town Council members, Debbie Lewis and Tina Long, moved this week to put an end to the action against Smith. Common sense did not prevail, as the motion did not gain consensus and was shot down.
Council members refuse to speak to me about the case.
Maloney, however, has decided — according to a spokesperson — to send a letter to the Smiths’ lawyer requesting a stay until the Supreme Court renders a decision in the Telluride matter.
“If you really don’t mean to proceed with the case just yet, don’t file it,” responds Smith family attorney Bruce Smith (no relation), who has not yet seen the letter. “If you don’t need immediate possession and use of the land, and they say they don’t, why are you asking this court for a stay? Why not wait until the Supreme Court case and then file?”
Good question.
But even if the court rules in favor of Telluride, this sort of condemnation is abusive. Whenever municipalities seek more open space, more parks or more tax revenue from a new Wal-Mart or Target, they seem to turn to eminent domain.
Parker is no exception.
“They’re trying to bully me, it’s simple,” Gary Smith says. “We were negotiating on the price and we could not come together. They didn’t like what we had to say. So now, if we don’t accept their price, they just condemn the land anyway? Instead of talking, they come out and use the big hammer.”
Suburbia is no pastoral refuge anymore.
They play hardball here.
