By Amy Silverman
By Olivia LaVecchia
By Monica Alonzo and Stephen Lemons
By Chris Parker
By Michael Lacey
By Weston Phippen
Spur Cross Ranch has long been a jewel in Maricopa County's environmental crown, but it's fast becoming a political hot potato.
U.S. Senator John McCain first fondled the gem. He was followed by Governor Jane Dee Hull and Maricopa County Supervisor Don Stapley. All three tried desperately to find a way to preserve the 2,150-acre ranch at the edge of the Tonto National Forest--home to endangered species, Native American artifacts and one of the last year-round creeks in these parts.
The politician who saves the mountainous spread from development and turns it into a preserve will score major points with voters.
To that end, the pols have been pussyfooting around the property owners--one of whom happens to be the behemothic Ohio-based Great American Life Insurance--trying to make them happy, first with a lucrative land trade offer and now with $15 million scraped together out of state and county coffers.
The owners still aren't happy. They say the state's appraisal on the ranch is too low. Others say the appraisal is actually way too high. The latest deal is at an impasse; the state can't, by law, pay more than $15 million for the land.
I can't add much to the debate over the land's worth, but I know one thing: It's time to end the years of wheel-spinning and take the option that's been available all along.
Condemn Spur Cross Ranch.
Oh dear. I used a dirty word.
Condemnation is not a pretty thing. It means the government comes in and says, "You have no choice. You must give up your property. We will compensate you fairly, but get the hell out!" If the parties can't agree on a price, the matter is decided by the courts.
It may not be pretty, but it happens. Hundreds of acres in Phoenix were condemned to create the Phoenix Mountain Preserves. The state condemns land all the time to build freeways.
And there's my favorite: Remember Beatrice Villareal, the 87-year-old woman who was forced from her meager lifelong home because Jerry Colangelo and Co. decided they wanted to put a parking garage in her living room? Beatrice and her kin protested, to no avail. Her home was condemned, and she died not long after being displaced.
The owners of Spur Cross don't even live on their property. Great American's execs live in tony Cincinnati suburbs. The land's minority owner, Herbert Dreiseszun, hangs out in the Arizona Biltmore neighborhood.
If our state and county leaders are really serious about preserving Spur Cross Ranch, and settling upon fair compensation for the owners, they will condemn the land.
They've exhausted just about every other option.
Some history: In the fall of 1997, a local developer named John Lang had cut a deal with the property owners to put a golf course and custom homes on the land. The Town of Cave Creek, which abuts Spur Cross, went nuts, and voted to annex the land and tie up any development. Those legal battles continue today.
Into the fray stepped John McCain, the self-styled maverick and presidential wanna-be who had rehabilitated his political reputation with campaign finance reform but still had some work to do to bolster his environmental record. The senator vowed to save Spur Cross Ranch.
For the next year or so, developers and conservationists and officials from all levels of government fought over a land trade championed by McCain. I won't bore you with the details; suffice to say the proposal wouldn't have saved Spur Cross without pissing off just about everyone involved and putting other precious land in jeopardy. It was a mess, and McCain finally extricated himself and skulked back to Washington.
In the meantime, the conservationists had been beating the bushes, trying to find a private group like the Nature Conservancy to purchase the land and preserve it. No go.
Smelling a political opportunity, Hull and Stapley stepped in and began negotiations with the Legislature and county supervisors to round up the dough to buy the land outright.
Between the state and Maricopa County, the officials came up with $15 million, and passed the whole deal as a state law. Coincidentally (don't you love how these things work?), the appraiser chosen and paid by the state appraised the land at $15 million.
Done deal, right?
Wrong. Dreiseszun has been grumbling about the price, and Great American has joined in, too. Dreiseszun hired an analyst to review the state's appraisal, and guess what? The analyst says the appraisal is "woefully inadequate."
Great American and Dreiseszun should take the $15 million and run. They'd be getting a smoking deal. In fact, the $15 million price could be called a taxpayer rip-off.
According to public records reviewed by the state's appraiser, the owners of Spur Cross Ranch listed the land for sale at about $12.75 million in 1995.
The state's appraiser did a thorough review of relatively comparable land prices in the area, and, according to that roundup, I'd put the value of Spur Cross Ranch at closer to $4,000 an acre than the $7,000 per acre the state has offered to pay.
Dreiseszun's big contention is that he and Great American could build homes on the land--or even a small part of the land, given the rocky, hilly nature of much of it--and make a lot more than $15 million.
I'm not so sure of that. At best, it would be many, many years before they'd be able to break ground, let alone see a return on their investment. A creek runs through the land, which means developers would need a permit from the Army Corps of Engineers before building. That involves an expensive review process that can take years. The landowners would likely have to pay for an Environmental Impact Statement, to catalogue endangered species and other species worth preserving. The presence of Native American antiquities would mean more red tape. And so on. We haven't even started talking about building infrastructure, water and electric utilities and roads.
These would be some mighty pricey homes.
Our elected officials have made a good-faith effort to save Spur Cross, doing just about everything in their power to make things right with the property owners. To heck with it, Jane and Don. Condemn the land. See ya in court.
Right to Sue:
Last week, Governor Hull signed House Bill 2706, a bill mandating regulation of abortion clinics. The reaction from the pro-choice community has been mixed.
The folks at Planned Parenthood of Central and Northern Arizona decided to throw a party, telling members they ". . . worked hard to successfully protect reproductive choice this legislative session. Now, we deserve to celebrate!" Hors d'oeuvres and one free drink, 20 bucks, at a Mexican restaurant. Woo-hoo.
But the mood is somber down south. While the Phoenicians fiesta, officials at Planned Parenthood of Southern Arizona are reportedly reviewing the new law, trying to decide whether to sue the state over it.
Planned Parenthood of Southern Arizona V.P. Karla Chapman insists it's way too early for such talk, but three insiders in the pro-choice community privately confirm that the Tucson-based activists are upset about the mandate, which does not extend to clinics providing other medical services.
Bryan Howard, president and CEO of Planned Parenthood of Central and Northern Arizona, was invited to the table to negotiate the terms of the bill with House Speaker Jeff Groscost. He and his group were instrumental in making the bill more palatable to pro-choicers. Groups such as Arizona Right to Choose and Planned Parenthood of Southern Arizona still opposed it.
Chapman says her group's not talking until the rule-making process mandated by the new law is done.
Word has it that any decision to sue would have to be made by PP's parent organization, the Planned Parenthood Federation of America, which is run, coincidentally, by an Arizonan, Howard's predecessor, Gloria Feldt.