Salt Lake City project
- Although not carfree, an interesting project near Salt Lake City in the US...
Environmentally Conscious Megasuburb Planned Near Salt Lake City
April 07, 2006 — By Paul Foy, Associated Press
WEST JORDAN, Utah — It's a plan for development that will take more than 50
years from start to finish, on the largest piece of privately owned land next
to a U.S. metropolis for an expected half-million residents.
This megasuburb, twice the size of San Francisco, will be the work of a mining
company, Kennecott Utah Copper Corp., which has no experience in real-estate
The Utah company is a subsidiary of London-based Rio Tinto, a mining
multinational and avowed convert to environmentalism, which decided to make a
showcase out of its surplus Utah lands instead of just selling them off for
Home builders were skeptical when the Salt Lake valley's biggest landowner
laid out the plan for a 20-mile string of densely packed, "walkable"
communities framing the rural west side of Salt Lake County. The communities
would be laid out along a planned highway and light-rail lines connecting to
Salt Lake City.
Mining executives pitched the idea to some 50 builders. "A lot of them rolled
their eyes and walked away," said Keith L. Morey, manager for Kennecott's
flagship Daybreak project, where just seven builders were chosen to help build
the first town of 14,000 homes.
"It was a mixture of excitement and fear," Brad Wilson, president and chief
executive of Destination Homes, said of his decision to sign on with Kennecott
to help build Daybreak.
"We didn't know if this was something people would wrap their arms around.
It's so different -- the tiny lots and alley-loaded garages. It was a risk,
but at the end of the day we felt they knew what they were doing," Wilson
Kennecott's whole plan calls for 162,800 houses in neighborhoods mixing the
wealthy and wage earners in shared communities of gardens, pocket parks and
surrounding open space.
The so-called West Bench development -- the string of communities along the
base of a mountain range -- differs from other planned communities by
emphasizing connections to a larger metropolis.
"It's part of a vision for how the whole region grows," said lead planner
Peter Calthorpe, a Berkeley, Calif., consultant who designed the trendy
redevelopment of Denver's old Stapleton Airport, which is about the same size
as Kennecott's Daybreak community.
Kennecott is developing the rolling foothills of its 144 square miles of land,
which ranks as the largest piece of land anywhere in the United States that's
under the control of a single, private owner and next to a major metropolis.
Single ownership of the land "gives incredible control over development and
the execution of the plan," said Gary Hunt, a retired executive for Irvine
Co., which developed one of the country's first master-planned communities, in
California's Orange County, starting in the 1960s. "In other parts of the
country you don't have that kind of opportunity."
At Daybreak's information pavilion, manager Barbara Breen greets prospective
buyers at a glass building with commanding views of the Wasatch and Oquirrh
(OH-kuhr) mountains that frame the Salt Lake valley.
"We went on this incredible siege last summer, selling 40 houses a week, so we
ran out," she said. More than 800 houses have been sold so far, half of them
still under construction.
Daybreak was not without its environmental problems, a legacy of a century of
digging at nearby Bingham Mine, which is expected to keep operating until at
A small part of Daybreak was built over ponds that collected mining runoff --
along with heavy metals -- from 1936 to 1965. Kennecott scooped up 3 million
square yards of contaminated soil and carried it back near the mine.
Some buyers bluntly ask whether Daybreak would "glow in the dark or
something," said Peter F. McMahon, president of Kennecott Land Co. He argued
the Daybreak cleanup exceeded Environmental Protection Agency standards.
"It's cleaner than a bunch of other parts of the valley," he said.
Kennecott is helping build a pair of reverse-osmosis filter plants to clean
tainted groundwater over the next 40 years, while providing fresh tap water
for the southwest part of the Salt Lake valley. It dug other wells 300 feet
deep to provide ground-source heating and cooling for a new elementary school
and community center and contributed $400,000 to kick-start an environmental
study of extending a light-rail line from downtown Salt Lake City to Daybreak.
"It's a new business for Rio Tinto. Some people said, "What are you doing this
for?'" McMahon said, pointing out that Kennecott acquired more land than it
will ever need for mining. "We have land in an area with strong demographics
and a strong economy. All that growth is heading that way."
"Sustainable" development is a term McMahon and other Kennecott executives
often use to describe their venture. Daybreak, for example, will contain all
of its own runoff, using it for irrigation for native grasses and 40 species
of trees, said Greg L. Rasmussen, an engineer and Kennecott's director of land
At Daybreak, every house will be within a five minute's walk of a park on 37
miles of interconnecting trails, some lined with channel streams. It will be
just as easy to walk or bicycle to grocery and other shops and restaurants in
the village core.
Kennecott banned the use of aluminum siding and fake cobblestone facades in
favor of natural materials and insisted on rambling front porches for most
"My wife always wanted a front porch," said Craig Douglass, a 56-year-old
software quality analyst for 3M Co., who moved from a nearby subdivision,
where he found his half-acre yard too large to maintain.
At Daybreak, the couple bought a $273,000, 1,650-square-foot house with "a
nice small yard, and we're looking forward to all the amenities" that will
include a sailing lake, he said.
"The idea is these homes will appreciate in value because of their quality and
the amenities of the neighborhood," said Wilson, the builder who has taken 200
orders so far and can't finish the houses fast enough for his buyers.
Kennecott is selling lots to builders but can't control home prices, which are
rising with demand and range from less than $200,000 to more than $800,000,
depending on a menu of options the builders offer.
Wilson said Kennecott's first town is not only unique to Utah but the country.
He's toured many planned communities in other states but adds, "I don't know
anyone who has done it as well as Kennecott."
Source: Associated Press
- To those of you interested in a nice piece of information about the
wonderful Jane Jacobs, see the bulleting from PPS at
Carlos F. Pardo
- On Wed, 26 Apr 2006, Carlos F. Pardo SUTP wrote:
> To those of you interested in a nice piece of information about theAlso, the LA Times has a good one: it focuses on her passion and
> wonderful Jane Jacobs, see the bulleting from PPS at
fiestiness in taking on the establishment.
I paste the article, below.
Jane Jacobs, 89; Urban Theorist, Community Activist Who Fought Lower
Manhattan Freeway Plan
By Mary Rourke, Times Staff Writer
April 26, 2006
Jane Jacobs, an urban theorist and community activist whose books argued
for the rehabilitation of neighborhoods on traditional lines, breaking
with emerging trends in city development, died Tuesday. She was 89.
An American-born citizen of Canada, Jacobs died at a hospital in Toronto
of natural causes, according to publicist Sally Marvin of Random House,
Jacobs' publisher. Jacobs was admitted to the hospital late last week and
had been in failing health for several years.
She was internationally known as an advocate of cities with distinct
neighborhoods, built to a human scale, mixing commercial and residential
She was against building highways that cut through city centers and was
once arrested at a public hearing after she stormed the podium to express
her opposition to a plan for an expressway through lower Manhattan.
"Jane Jacobs' thinking about cities was clear and it came from a person
who lived in cities," Toronto Mayor David Miller told The Times on
Tuesday. "She didn't just write about urban issues. She acted on her
Jacobs' most influential work, 1961's "The Death and Life of Great
American Cities," set the stage for a battle that Jacobs waged for
decades. Defying popular theories on how to renew city slums by plowing
them under and replacing them with uniform housing projects, she pushed
for recycled buildings and new structures scaled to the existing
Her feisty prose often read like a manifesto. "This book is an attack on
current city planning and rebuilding," she announced in the opening
paragraph of "The Death and Life of Great American Cities."
She continued: "It is also, and mostly, an attempt to introduce new
principles of city planning and rebuilding, different and even opposite
from those now taught in everything from schools of architecture and
planning to Sunday supplements and women's magazines."
In her view a successful city needed vibrant neighborhoods linked by
public transportation. Each area needed its own mix of old and new
buildings, a constant influx of smaller, independent businesses, and a
range of residential and commercial space.
Early critics accused her of being short on realistic solutions to the
challenges of urban life. Admirers called her a maverick and a
comprehensive thinker. Thirty years later, when her books were required
reading in graduate school programs and many of her beliefs about cities
were widely accepted, she was praised as a visionary and a pivotal figure
in her field.
"It's not that the world was one way before Jane Jacobs and changed 180
degrees because of her," Paul Goldberger, architecture critic of the New
Yorker magazine, said in an interview with the Los Angeles Times in 2003.
It was more a case of Jacobs daring to voice her complaints in a firm,
"Nobody else spoke out against the establishment the way Jacobs did,"
Goldberger said. "In the '50s, American cities were generally considered
messy, undesirable things. Suburban life was considered the ideal. Jane
Jacobs fought valiantly in defense of plain, old-fashioned, urban life."
She was opposed to the use of bulldozers as a tool for urban renewal.
"From her point of view," Goldberger said, "nothing was being renewed. It
was all being destroyed." Referring to Jacobs' "The Death and Life of
American Cities" as "arguably the most important book written about cities
in the 20th century," he summed up her attitude toward tear-down renewal:
"The emperor of city planning has no clothes."
As a writer and community activist, Jacobs' energy was unrelenting. She
challenged the views of influential thinkers such as historian Lewis
Mumford, author of "The Culture of Cities."
Her most audacious outburst came in the 1960s when New York City planner
and power broker Robert Moses announced his plan for an expressway through
the Washington Square area in lower Manhattan.
Jacobs attended the public hearing where she and other protesters vocally
opposed the plan.
"He was one of the first speakers," she recalled of Moses, in a 2000
interview with the Associated Press. "He was furious and he stood up
there, inside the railed enclosure, and not where most speakers spoke
outside where the public microphone was. He was privileged.
"He gripped this railing and he said, in dismissing scornfully our plan to
have no more than the existing road and better not even that, he said,
'These protests are just by a bunch of a bunch of mothers!' "
Jacobs, joined by other protesters, then rushed the podium, disrupting the
Jane Jacobs, 89; Urban Theorist, Community Activist Who Fought Lower
Manhattan Freeway Plan
April 26 2006
Page 2 of 2 << back 1 2
She was arrested on several charges, including criminal mischief, which
established her as a terror, at least around City Hall. It also reduced to
rubble any view that Jacobs was merely a disheveled, jolly-faced lady with
the big, round glasses.
Rather, she was "a far-sighted genius who guided cities in new
directions," Robert Caro, who wrote a biography of Moses, told the
Associated Press on Tuesday. Her battle with Moses was "one of the truly
heroic sagas in the history of New York," Caro said.
Jacobs first staked her claim as the bane of the establishment in 1961
when she led the opposition against a tear-down plan for her West Village
neighborhood in lower Manhattan. Redevelopers intended to take out the
brownstones and small apartment complexes in the area and replace them
with a housing project that covered several blocks.
She argued against demolition and offered her own proposal, which
preserved existing housing and added a middle-income apartment complex
built to scale. Eventually, the plan she helped devise was approved.
"In the '60s, technocrats were leading the way in urban planning,"
architect Eric Owen Moss told The Times in 2003.
His Los Angeles-based firm has recycled office space for housing and
blended recycled buildings with new structures in the Jacobs tradition.
"Jacobs was a unique, sensitive voice for a different point of view," Moss
said. "The technocrat said, 'We'll put an expressway here, a dam there, a
high-rise here'. She said, 'Let's not build the expressway through
peoples' backyards. Let's keep the continuity of the existing
neighborhood. And let's have parks.' "
Forty years after she helped defeat plans for an expressway through lower
Manhattan, Jacobs was still receiving phone calls from community activists
across North America, seeking her guidance. In 2000, concerned citizens of
Pittsburgh wanted to block a redevelopment project that would have wiped
out two of the city's downtown streets. Jacobs offered coaching by phone,
and the Pittsburgh activists won their battle.
Her credentials for the role of urban strategist were comparatively
sparse. Born May 4, 1916, in Scranton, Pa., she graduated from high school
and worked briefly as a reporter on the Scranton Tribune before she moved
to New York City. There she attended classes at Columbia University but
did not complete her college degree.
She went to work as a freelance journalist covering urban issues. In 1952,
she was hired by Architecture Forum magazine. She became a senior editor
and remained on the staff until 1962. In her essay, "Downtown Is for
People," included in the book, "The Exploding Metropolis" (1958), Jacobs
suggested ways to revitalize downtown areas.
She criticized governmental civic centers as "pretentious and dull" and
said that shopping centers all look alike. The goal of urban renewal
should be to make a city's core, "more surprising, more compact, more
variegated, and busier than ever," she wrote.
Through the 1960s Jacobs was appointed to a series of government projects,
including New York City Mayor John V. Lindsay's Task Force on Housing and
the Task Force on Natural Beauty, overseen by then-First Lady Lady Bird
Johnson, that supported the planting of shrubs and flowers in public
She had gained both respect and notoriety in a male-dominated field, in a
steeply competitive city. Then, somewhat abruptly, in 1968, Jacobs and her
husband of 24 years, architect Robert Hyde Jacobs, moved their family of
three children to Toronto.
The Jacobs, who had two sons close to draft age, opposed the Vietnam War.
In 1974, Jane Jacobs became a Canadian citizen.
"Jane was part of a group of extremely articulate, independent thinking,
highly accomplished people" who had a strong impact on the growth of the
city, said Joe Berridge of Urban Strategies, a planning firm in Toronto.
"By the early '70s, a few years after they settled in Toronto, it was
taking off and becoming a great city."
Within months of her arrival in Toronto, Jacobs imprinted her style when
she joined a group of urban activists battling a proposed downtown
expressway. The plan was ultimately defeated.
More recently, she fought a plan to build a bridge from downtown Toronto
to the airport. "Storming the barricades with the help of her walker,"
Berridge said of Jacobs' style.
Urban planners in Toronto credit Jacobs with helping preserve the city's
highly livable neighborhoods and saving some of its worthy old buildings.
Outspoken to the point of being brash, she once declared that the city
planning board of Toronto was "brain-dead."
"Jane Jacobs had a strong anti-bureaucratic bent," said Eudora
Pendergrast, who worked as a city planner for Toronto in the early '90s
and more recently opened her own consulting firm. "That statement had an
incredible effect. It shaped an effort by planners to be less
bureaucratic. Jane Jacobs was highly respected."
She continued to write books on her favorite topic. In "The Economy of
Cities" (1969) and "Cities and the Wealth of Nations" (1984) she argued
that the financial health of a nation depends on productive cities.
In one instance, she used Japan as an example. After World War II, a
number of Japanese cities developed bicycle manufacturing factories that
boosted the local economy. Business grew to the point where those cities
were able to expand into automobile production. Within 30 years the
Japanese economy went from one of the weakest to one of the strongest in
Some critics challenged Jacobs for leaping too freely from the specific to
the general. "She was on much firmer ground when she wrote about structure
and form," Goldberger said. "There, her theories bore out."
When she was in her 80s and still living in the house she once shared with
her husband and three children, journalists continued to called on her.
Several of them made note of her eccentric taste in home decor.
Porch furniture in the living room, a closet converted to a telephone
booth and a wooden model for a fighter plane fuel tank as a door stop were
seen as proof of her commitment to recycling.
At age 88, she toured to promote her book, "Dark Age Ahead" (2004), taking
questions with the help of an old-fashioned ear trumpet.
In the book she wrote that family and community bonds need reinforcing and
that cities need a self-policing system to keep professionals in check.
To get to that point, her suggestion was to start small. "Everything is
connected to everything else," she wrote. "...if something is corrected
and improved it's likely to affect other things beneficially."
Jacobs' passion for cities never left her. "All through organized human
history, if you wanted prosperity you had to have cities," she told the
Los Angeles Times in 1997, during a conference about her work held in
Toronto. "Cities are places that attract new people with new ideas."
Her husband died in 1996. She is survived by two sons, one daughter, two
grandchildren, two great-grandchildren and a brother.
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