Marina faces a choice of futures.

Photos by Randy Tunnell

Photos: The Old and the New--In Mortimer's Card Room on Del Monte, Old Marina is alive and well. Not far away, the upscale Wild Thyme Deli heralds a new era for the upwardly mobile city.

If Marina City Hall were a dark alley, it would have been the scene of an ugly political chain-whipping on the night of July 16. The emotional melee and rhetorical stomping-which spun close to real violence in the parking lot and required defusing by two large men, one of them the chief of police-offered proof that the control of turf conjures primal human instincts.

The high melodrama is understandable. With a decisive city council and mayoral election in November and major development plans in the works for vast (if encumbered) tracts on Fort Ord, these are critical times for Marina-a burgeoning, diverse city with a bounty of opportunity, perched on the edge of major transformation.

The land-use battle at City Hall a few weeks back was not without context. Among the most contentious issues facing Marina, there is intense pressure to build affordable housing on what is essentially free land at Fort Ord. What defines "affordable housing" in this region is nebulous, and some Marina citizens and leaders are not keen on providing much of it, whatever it is, in a town that desperately needs to prosper.

The debate heated up in June when Marina and the rest of the county were stunned by a sudden sucker punch thrown by Rep. Sam Farr. At the June 14 meeting of the Fort Ord Reuse Authority (FORA), Farr threatened to halt all future transfers of the federally-owned land on the old army base to local municipalities, including Marina, unless he started seeing more affordable housing plans. His threat held wide consequence as it stymied years'' worth of plans and millions of dollars'' worth of potential development.

Beyond the confusion it sowed, it elicited angry salvos from local politicians, and even a feigned counterpunch by Monterey County officials, who hinted that they were considering large housing developments in Farr''s backyard, Carmel Valley, where they would be entirely unwelcome.

The spark that set off the trouble at the city council meeting was an innocent-looking agenda item, the likes of which have appeared on local government meeting agendas for years. The first Action Item read: "Consider and Provide Direction regarding Fort Ord Housing Issues."

In truth it was a framework for affordable housing, presented by Mayor Jim Perrine to the rest of the city council. Perrine, who serves as the chairman of the FORA board, was in the middle of the land transfer showdown with Farr. Unlike other local politicians who screamed for blood at the Congressman''s provocation, Perrine, a civil engineer, took up the gauntlet. On July 16, he in turn challenged the city elders.

It went like this:

In his framework, Perrine set the affordable housing price at $301,000, with parallel rent levels. He proposed that all 352 existing housing units in Preston Park remain affordable, as they are now. Any additional housing projects in Marina''s share of the closed base would contain 25 percent affordable housing in ranges from less than $75,000 to $301,000. The aggregate of housing on the fort-including Preston Park-would add up to 40 percent affordable.

As it is now, the city only requires 20 percent for each project, and his additional five percent-aimed at middle class families making less than $100,000 a year-was, as he said days later, an attempt to "raise the bar slightly higher." He also proposed creating a housing trust that would provide mortgage help and limit property appreciation. The trust would be open first to locals and would require substantial federal subsidies.

As Perrine presented his framework, several city councilmembers must have been scouring their brains for just the appropriate verbal jabs, but Perrine wasn''t yet done. He also proposed creating a "Community Facilities District" to create "funding mechanisms" to "facilitate" affordable housing. Finally, he decreed that when the city offers prospective developers a shot at an important upcoming commercial-residential development project known as University Villages, at least 40 to 50 percent of the housing must be affordable.

With that the gloves came off.

Never afraid to spit out the first thought that comes to his mind, Councilman Michael Morrison let one swing from the floor.

"Sorry to say, but when I first read this I thought it was a joke," he said, comparing one category of proposed homes for less than $75,000 in this area to plastic doll houses and tool sheds. Then he shifted from mockery to accusation, declaring:

"This is political pandering and I do not support it in any way, shape or form."

Take one step back and recall that this is an election year.

Though Morrison''s seat is safe, Perrine is being challenged by fellow council member and former Army Colonel Ila Mettee-McCutchon. (Her seat is not safe. If she loses in her bid against Perrine, she''s out of the game.) From the far end of the council table the feisty Alabama native launched her flurry of punches.

"I''m not sure what the purpose of this item is either," she said, incredulous.

Though she seemed to like the idea of housing trusts, she resisted subsidies and could not see how a house might be built here for $75,000 when FORA charges a $34,000 fee for each new housing unit. "I''m just not sure this [framework] can be done," she said. "It just doesn''t seem very well thought-out at this point."

Howard Gustafson, an old-guard native whose seat is also up for a vote in November, offered some relatively diluted criticisms, while Bruce Delgado, a progressive environmentalist and a federal botanist by trade, offered Perrine''s only support from the dais.

"We are here to serve the people, and the people are crying out for affordable housing more than probably any other issue," Delgado said.

The tension cranked up a notch when the citizens opened up from the floor during the public comment period. Some backed Perrine, though others joined in the fracas.

LeVonne Stone, a former civilian Army employee who lost her job when the base closed and has since formed the Fort Ord Environmental Justice Network, complained that housing is a basic need for all people-but the rest of the Peninsula is not helping.

"We have a right," she said. "We are tired of being put in the middle of a housing fight. We are tired of what Carmel is not doing."

It ratcheted up even more when Gary Wilmot, a city planning commissioner, pushed for economic growth before residential development.

"It''s jobs we need, not houses," he said.

At the end of his comments Wilmot mentioned something about people going out and getting jobs, which angered Stone so much she chased him outside into the parking lot. It was not a pretty sight, something like the Cops footage no one ever sees, the part that happens before the patrol car pulls up.

The two argued for five minutes, with Stone crying, "Where do you work?" and Wilmot answering "Where do you work?" and Stone replying, "You cannot tell us what we don''t do!" It got tense enough and loud enough that Lee Drummond, director of public safety, and Wilmot''s father, John (a former city councilman and current county planning commissioner), walked outside from the council chamber to calm everyone down. Finally Wilmot''s father told his son firmly, "Gary, go!''

Inside, the council argued more, delivered more campaign-style speeches and finally directed the planning staff to study the framework. A recess was called right away.

As for Perrine, he remains diplomatic if subtly critical of his opponents. A week later he put an upbeat spin on what looked like a nasty brawl.

"I think the discussion was good," he said. "It certainly provided the full realm of viewpoints. Hopefully everybody was able to get a better understanding of the issue.

"Some don''t fully understand the role of government or didn''t understand the framework that was presented."

Drive around Marina and it quickly becomes apparent that there''s no there there. And drive you must, because unlike the Peninsula''s more traditionally designed towns, with their downtown cores meant for humans on foot, Marina has no such place.

East from the main intersection at Del Monte, Reservation Road trumpets a variously depressing parade of strip mall Americana. Back down near the highway on Del Monte, it''s more of the same, in shorter, more threadbare version.

This is not to say Marina doesn''t have its charms, both old and new. One of the town''s longtime landmarks is Mortimer''s Cocktail Lounge on Del Monte. The barroom features a wall''s worth of regulars drawn in caricature. The bartenders-one of whom has her own likeness in caricature-serve cold bottles of beer with a short glass on the side.

In a backroom that glows grayish-green through a gauzy scrim of a window, a group of men can usually be found hunched around a large card table. They can get lunch through a side-door to a neighboring Mexican restaurant.

One of the newer hot spots is English Ales, a brewpub of the sort sprouting in cities and towns across the country. The actual brewery is adjacent, authenticated by a stack of kegs outside.

Being new and a bit nicer than what''s been, English Ales is the kind of place Marina wants to show off. It''s not unlike another new place up on Reservation, a deli called Wild Thyme. It may be in Marina, but its fare (and its prices) are Carmel. The glass counter is packed full of dishes of fancy imported anchovies, exotic olives and cheeses. A salami sandwich and a bag of chips costs $8.03-a can of Coke is $1.25. It''s the kind of place that some in Marina might point to and say it won''t be the Peninsula''s redheaded stepchild much longer.

Formerly an unincorporated bedroom community at the edge of a sprawling army base, Marina became an official city in 1975. When Fort Ord was closed down in 1994, a panic bomb might as well have gone off in the town square (if there had been a town square). Thousands of families vanished and businesses vaporized by the score. As one longtime resident says, "This is a base-closure community. It was hit and it was hit hard."

Into that void has rushed a whole new Marina. Though it''s considered an affordable place by Monterey Peninsula standards, a nondescript 1,750-square-foot house that went for $118,000 a decade ago can fetch $450,000 today.

Though a significant number of retirees, ex-army and otherwise, remain, it''s shifting to a more dynamic mix. Young families who can''t afford the obscene home prices of Monterey or Pacific Grove are settling in Marina, bringing new ideas and attitudes. The opening of CSUMB has brought young California college students and academics nearby. In fact, Marina has been named one of the most diverse cities in the nation. At one of the grade schools, some 30 different ethnic groups are represented, and it''s not unusual to see some combination of black, white, Asian and Hispanic kids bicycling down the street together. According to the 2000 Census, the median age is 32. Approximately 40 percent are white, 15 percent black, 20 percent Asian and 25 percent Hispanic. About 35 percent speak a language other than English at home. The median household income is $43,000 and the median home value in 1999 was $247,100.

According to the government, 21,014 people live there. That''s an adjustment from the original census count of 25,101, which had inexplicably included the inmates of Soledad''s state prison, 40 miles away.

And while the population sagged as the base closed (the population dropped 20 percent from 1990 to 2000, from 26,436 to 21,014), it''s expected to surge fast. If Marina develops housing the way it plans to, the population is expected to top 31,000 by 2020, according to city estimates.

Where and how all those people will live is an uncertainty at the root of Marina''s very core today, and the root cause for the high emotions at the city council meeting on July 16.

Marina is inheriting 3,000 acres of land on what used to be Fort Ord, including several abandoned housing zones that resemble 1970s-era ghost towns. But the derelict neighborhoods are by no means usable.

The Army had its own rules about development, and while families might have moved into vacated base housing as soon at the fort closed, ponderous delays caused by pollution problems, complicated building code snarls, and then 10 years'' worth of rot mean Marina has years of work ahead.

In fact, the redevelopment of Fort Ord is so critical to Marina that the council hired a new city manager, Anthony Altfeld, formerly of Atwater, California, specifically for his experience in adjusting to the closure of nearby Castle Air Force Base.

Just how much work crams the pipeline can be found on the project list at the Marina city planning office. It goes on for five pages, from mundane sidewalk projects and two-lot subdivisions to massive base re-use projects like Marina Heights, the University Villages and Cypress Knolls.

The city has been locked in negotiations with developers over plans for the land it will get from the Army. Marina Heights would put 900 housing units in what was Abrams Park, and Cypress Knolls would put a large-scale 480-unit senior housing development in Patton Park.

On top of that, there is a potential for housing in the portion of Armstrong Ranch which falls inside the city''s Urban Growth Boundary-another piece of controversial turf. According to city planning schedules, developers for that ground are waiting for the city to reconfigure its General Plan to comply with changes born of an Urban Growth Boundary imposed on the city by voters who passed Measure E in 2000.

Of course the regional water shortage could hinder any plans, but there are allocations that can be shifted, according to officials. Marina also has its own desalination plant.

Take a few steps back again, and there are assorted other plans and ideas for the city that, if used, will completely transform it from what it was to various visions of what it could be.

There''s a committee effort to "revitalize the downtown," which is thought to be near the intersection of Del Monte and Reservation. Land has been set aside to build a high school some time soon, as some 800 Marina kids are exported to Seaside and Monterey every day during the school year. Politicians point to the re-use of the airport, which once served as an army airfield and helicopter pad, as an industrial park and high-technology research facility.

A skate park is in the works, as is a greenbelt of landscaped paths. Another idea involves converting dozens of now fenced-off percolation ponds spread through the city into pocket parks. And although plans are stalled, there''s the possibility for a golf course at the far side of the airport on a bluff overlooking the Salinas Valley.

Finally, in 2003 or so, four miles of beach and dunes the army once used for rifle practice should be open to the public for fun.

Some can see the future of what Marina might become. At the city hall office complex on Hillcrest, there''s a sign outside the public works office that reads, "Building the future one brick at a time."

Marina''s role in the Central Coast region is at stake now, in addition to its own future. It''s not every day that thousands of acres of land become available for development on the California coast. Who steers the ship means everything, and it''s why emotions are so high-as evidenced by the July 16 meeting-and it''s why the November elections are so critical.

Mayor Perrine got whacked on July 16 because he wants to use the major housing developments like Marina Heights to solve at least part of the region''s housing crisis. When what''s considered "affordable" is astronomical in the real world, his intention to use government to moderate free-market tendencies seems logical to his allies and supporters.

Yet his opponents have their reasons for believing the already-existing 20 percent mandate is sufficient. Without the sales tax and hotel tax revenues that have made Peninsula cities like Monterey, Carmel and Pacific Grove fiscally fat, Marina struggles. Some local leaders believe the city needs to be able to develop tracts of new market-rate housing to attract affluent families and lucrative businesses.

Councilman Michael Morrison-who prides himself as the only business-owner on the council-chronically questions why Marina should build housing for people who will leave every morning to work in the Monterey money-machine while Marina gets none of the spoils in return. His resentment and the resentment of others toward the rich half of the Peninsula are palpable.

Some are more virulent than others, but Perrine''s mayoral challenger, Ila Mettee-McCutchon, is firm.

"We are a middle-class town. We are not a low-income town," she says. "We are not a victim. I don''t think we should take on the responsibility of housing all the low-income personnel here because the other communities have not stepped up to the plate."

Mettee-McCutchon came to the area as a colonel in 1994. She was an Army intelligence officer who was assigned to be garrison commander of the Presidio, home of the Defense Language Institute and custodian of the freshly shuttered Fort Ord.

"We have so much to market. We have land on which to develop. We have water. We have our own water district. We''re the only city with a desalination plant. We''re getting a huge acreage on the former Fort Ord that is specifically for economic development in addition to housing. We could feel the kind of prosperity we want here and say [to prospective industry], ''There''s going to be housing for all levels up to the CEO. And oh, by the way, you''re on the Monterey Peninsula, which might be one of the most beautiful places in the free world.''"

It''s not that her vision veers so far from Perrine''s or the more green leaders like councilman Bruce Delgado or council candidate Ken Gray, the fathers of the Marina Vision 2020 project. It''s the priorities.

Gray, a city planning commissioner and state parks planner now running for council, says, "Some of the disagreement is about whether we want to be a progressive community or just emulate what other communities have done in the past and build the kind of developments to try to attract affluent people who will spend money."

Perrine sees Marina as a major employment center with the growth of the university, the plans for the University Villages and the plans for a research park at the airport providing the kind of jobs a progressive city wants.

The one place where he and his compatriots diverge from council members Mettee-McCutchon, Morrison and Gustafson seems to be the role of Marina in providing places where people can reasonably afford to live in such an expensive region. In fact Perrine says the percentage may need to be raised further when housing guidelines are adjusted in the coming months.

"We''re certainly at a crossroads and the city has a great future ahead of it and some great opportunities," Perrine says. "Some of the decisions we make today will be putting us in the direction we wish the community will go in. We have to be careful."

From a picnic table at Vince DiMaggio Park on the northern edge of Marina, Vince DiMaggio can see the future through an open patch in the trees. The future is actually just Del Monte Avenue, which is crowded with cars.

"People say, ''How do we calm traffic on Del Monte and Reservation?'' That''s exactly what you do not want to do, because those are main arterial roads," DiMaggio says. "Understanding the hierarchy of streets is important."

The park from which DiMaggio looks out over Marina was named after his father, the city''s first public works director. DiMaggio grew up in Monterey, where his family dates back to the ''20s, and his great grandfather is credited with adapting shortwave radios for use in the now-vanished sardine fleet. DiMaggio''s grandfather was first cousin to San Francisco native Joe DiMaggio.

Vince DiMaggio talks about "street hierarchies" because he''s an urban planner. After six years with the Salinas city planning department, DiMaggio took a job two years ago as the head of planning for Creekbridge Homes, a local California developer with projects across the state. Creekbridge has been asked to bid on Marina''s University Village projects.

The company''s existing projects are typical, if pleasant-looking, California subdivisions. But DiMaggio has brought the company around to the new-but-old way of development now known as New Urbanism. A phenomenal step back to the old way communities were built before World War II, before cars and homes were mass-produced, New Urbanism is gaining popularity for its human-scaled neighborhoods. Homes are built in a cohesive fashion radiating out from a core-a town plaza surrounded by stores, restaurants, the post office and everything a town needs. Instead of deciding between sprawled cul-de-sacs of uniform size, color and design, a New Urban resident can choose from a variety of housing types within walking distance of the local tavern, ice cream parlor or whatever. Streets are narrow to keep car traffic down. Garages are kept in back alleys and porches are built close enough to the sidewalk to allow conversation with passersby. Put simply, if postwar subdivisions were built to accommodate cars, New Urban settlements are built for people.

With everything a community needs within a quarter-mile, traffic-free stroll, DiMaggio says, "People walk because it becomes ridiculous to drive."

"You do New Urbanism and you create 12 or 15 different housing types, from apartments above a shop to a townhouse to a garden apartment to an estate, and you will very quickly accommodate every income level you''re trying to represent. You can only charge so much for a studio or an apartment. The market itself will regulate it."

DiMaggio has done just that with plans for an 800-home, 200-acre New Urban development outside King City called Arboleda. There are plans for 12 types of housing, a school, a village green at the core, a post office and several parks. Old settlement patterns dating back to the colonial era New England and Spanish settlements in California from the late 1700s will reveal the same arrangements.

"There is no cost difference if you do it correctly," he says. "Many of the critics of New Urbanism have called it a fad. No. The fad is what we''ve been doing since World War II."

If Marina''s direction divides the city leaders and spurs citizens to near violence in the city hall parking lot, then maybe DiMaggio offers a third way that satisfies government and business interests. With so many plans in the pipeline, it''s not hard to see Marina as DiMaggio does: as a true city of the future, where a diverse collection of Californians from all over the world live and prosper in a progressive, industrious city by the sea.

"Marina is the place to be," DiMaggio says. "It''s the place where people want to be able to have the benefit of being able to say they live on the Monterey Peninsula. And it''s the only place on the Peninsula that can handle substantial amounts of new growth. Marina is the place."