By Monica Alonzo
By Stephen Lemons
By Jason P. Woodbury
By Dulce Paloma Baltazar Pedraza
By Ray Stern
By Pete Kotz
By Monica Alonzo
By New Times
Bear the front door of his northeast Phoenix home, Richard Aiello has screwed a small brass plaque to the stuccoed wall. It reads:
NEVER MIND THE DOG--BEWARE THE OWNER.
On the roof at the back of the neatly maintained home he shares with his wife, Helen, and his 4-year-old daughter, Alexis, Aiello has attached another sign, this one far less discreet. In blocky red letters that almost fill an entire four-by-eight-foot sheet of plywood, Aiello has stenciled the following missive:
THIS HOMEOWNER AND MANY OTHERS ARE DISGUSTED WITH THE NOISE, LIES AND LACK OF CONSIDERATION FOR OUR FAMILIES.
Aiello's yard backs up against a 35-acre shopping mall which lies at the southwest corner of Tatum Boulevard and Bell Road. The center, developed five years ago by R.E. Cornwell, is home to Bashas', Wal-Mart and other smaller retailers.
Aiello thinks the city and the businesses are reneging on promises made to neighbors five years ago, before the busy strip mall was built. Measures were supposed to be put in place that would reduce noise from delivery trucks and excessive light from the stores, among other problems.
Instead, trucks clatter over a speed bump just behind Aiello's wall, and lights shine into his backyard.
Aiello's sign cannot be seen from the street out front of his home, nor was it ever intended to be. From the other side of the eight-foot-high block wall that runs along his backyard, however, the sign stands out like a beacon.
Aiello moved into his home seven years before the mall's arrival, when the land behind his backyard was still an unbladed tangle of creosote and mesquite.
"We used to spend time in the backyard," he says. "It was nice. It was quiet and dark."
Not so anymore, though. Where Aiello used to see stars, he now sees the mall's towering, blank white walls. Where there used to be darkness, there is now the yellow wash thrown off by powerful sodium lamps.
"It's like daylight out there at night," Aiello says.
But that's not what Aiello finds most galling. What bothers him the most, he says, is the near-constant racket thrown off by the fleet of trucks that make deliveries to the Bashas' store.
Bashas' loading area lies directly behind Aiello's house. Of all the homes that lie behind the mall, Aiello's receives the brunt of the noise, a situation compounded by the fact that Cornwell installed a speed bump just behind his backyard.
It's easy to see how the arrangement could get old quickly. One recent afternoon, a succession of delivery trucks took the bump. Some of the drivers slowed down, while others fudged it. The racket was pronounced, even from inside Aiello's home. The effect is that of living behind a freight yard or a construction site.
"It's like this every day," Aiello says. "In fact, this is a slow time." He points to cracks he has had to patch in the walls of the living-room addition he built on the rear of his home, which he says are the result of vibrations from the trucks.
As Aiello sees it, none of this was supposed to have happened. When Cornwell first petitioned the city to let him build the mall, in fact, it was Aiello who helped rally neighbors to convince the city to impose stipulations on the developer.
At that time, the developer presented drawings showing that a person standing in the backyard of a home like Aiello's would only be able to see the top five feet of the 30-foot-high mall once the block wall was built along the back of the site.
The renderings also depicted a densely vegetated, landscaped buffer zone on the other side of the wall that would have made the trucks all but invisible.
That drawing, however, is different from reality in two critical aspects: It shows towering, 30-foot trees standing in the buffer zone, while the trees that stand there now are at most a third that height, even after four years.
The drawing also fails to show that the mall site sits several feet higher than Aiello's backyard. As a result, drivers in the larger trucks have an unimpeded view of the Aiello homestead.
Other stipulations called for lights that would shine from the base of the backyard wall onto the building, not from the tops of the buildings, where they could flood the backyards with light.
Aiello says the wall behind his house should be raised five feet to take into account the slope. He says Cornwell also should replace four of the trees in the landscaped buffer zone that have died.
And finally, Aiello says, the speed bump should go.
"I personally think Cornwell put those speed bumps in there just to piss me off, because they weren't there the first year the building was there," Aiello says.
Aiello says Cornwell has stopped returning his phone calls. The developer did not return calls seeking an interview. City zoning officials say there are no complaints on file about the mall, including any from Aiello.