Never Again: The Century Freeway by Michael S. Ellars Copyright March 31, 1998 All Rights Reserved Prologue I say "Never Again" for several reasons. The most important of these is that it is a sentiment expressed time and again in the research materials I have gathered, reflecting opinions both on freeway construction and the programs the Century Freeway proje ct spawned. It is a grim reality that the revolutionary changes wreaked by the Final Consent Decree, from accelerated affirmative action hiring and training programs, to community involvement along every step of the project, will probably never again be p ut into effect. Some, such as affirmative action, seem destined to termination by legislation pending in California as well as nationally. Others, especially the community involvement, are viewed by government officials as more trouble than they are worth , thus creating a generally cool reaction to future proposals (DiMento 1991, vii). Whatever the case for the future, the State of California practiced overtly discriminatory activities in the past and got called on it. This is the story. Never Again: The Century Freeway Los Angeles is well-known for many things. From the Hollywood sign to its warm, sunny beaches, nothing can tarnish the beautiful image that is Los Angeles. Or can it? For lurking beneath this glamorous veneer is a dark core of not-so-subtle racism and el itism. The Los Angeles freeway system, once (and still, some would argue) the pride of the region, sets the stage for one such dark act. The design of the Century Freeway intentionally traverses poorer, predominantly minority neighborhoods because the lan d is cheap and the population is less likely to have the political clout to change anything. For once, however, there is a happy ending: the State underestimated the people who live and work along the Century Freeway corridor, and it changed everything. The Century Freeway is also known as "Interstate 105" and, after the Congressman from California who secured its federal funding, the "Glenn M. Anderson Freeway-Transitway." It is a seventeen-mile strip of concrete running from the Los Angeles Internatio nal Airport (LAX) east to Interstate 605. This path carries the freeway a few miles south of downtown Los Angeles; primary connection between the city center and the road is provided by the Harbor Freeway (Interstate 110). The Century Freeway project is the most costly freeway ever constructed. At an official total of $2.22 billion, every mile of the freeway cost over $128 million. That equates to more than $24,000 per foot, or just over $2000 for every inch of roadway! Th is bulk of this cost, according to official government figures, was incurred directly from construction; however, one must take into consideration the presence of an aggressive housing replenishment program within that budget. The freeway consists of thre e mixed-flow lanes, plus one High Occupancy Vehicle (HOV) lane, in each direction. It also provides a sixty-four-foot center median strip that accommodates light-rail mass transit. To give an impression of the massive scope of the 930-acre project, which consumed 2.3 million cubic yards of concrete and 115,000 tons of steel, imagine the sixteen-inch-diameter piles that support the freeway: if placed end-to-end they would stretch 500 miles! (California Department of Transportation 1998) The general path of the Century Freeway was established by the Metropolitan Transportation Engineering Board in February 1958. The master plan showed the freeway cutting through "heavily suburban areas" (Gates 1983). The idea behind this path was clear: inexpensive property, the sad hallmark of many minority and lower-class neighborhoods, kept right-of-way costs to a minimum. (The irony of this situation is, of course, that freeway projects tend to be built through communities that have the least use for them (Brodsly 1981, 39).) The freeway's tract from Norwalk to El Segundo travels through communities traditionally populated with minorities and the poorest segments of the population: Hawthorne, Inglewood, and Downey, just to name a few. And yet, this was "business-as-usual" for the California Division of Highways (now the Department of Transportation, also known as Caltrans). Almost every major highway and freeway project in the Los Angeles area seems, through intent or coincidence, to have been constructed through minority or poor neighborhoods (Brodsly 1981, 29). An unfortunate side effect of freeway construction is right-of-way demolition. This is a distinctly "East Coast" habit, whereby city planners are literally forced to slam highways through existing, well-established neighborhoods because there is simply n o other place in which to put them. The situation in Los Angeles, however, began differently. With the construction of the Pacific Electric Railroad (around the turn of the century), people in Los Angeles realized that transit systems were not just a meth od to get "from here to there," but a device to create a "there" - anywhere. Thus was born the "traditional" Los Angeles freeway with its vast, organic form connecting disparate points to one other, shrinking the distance virtually by reducing the transit time. Since the middle of the century, freeway construction in Los Angeles has not been as easy. As the city grew, it filled in all available space within even as it expanded without. Therefore, when time came to build a new portion of the Metropolitan Los Ang eles Master Plan of Freeways, it became evident that the new freeway would have to be cut through the established cityscape. "East Coast" tactics reminiscent of Robert Moses became the status quo: the freeways would be built where those in power said they would be built; opposition would be brushed aside or crushed in the fray. Beginning in 1958, six possible routes were studied for the proposed Century Freeway. These six were all within a few blocks of one another, between the Imperial Highway to the north and 120th to the south. However, not until the mid-1960s did landowners in the proposed paths receive any notification that they lay in the right-of-way. By then the damage was done. Faced with the very real prospect of losing their land and everything on it, it seemed landowners could only watch helplessly from the sidelines as land values plummeted in the wake of the oncoming juggernaut. One family resisted this trend. Ralph and Esther Keith were informed in 1965 that their home would be acquired by the State for freeway construction. If the Keiths wished to remain living in their own home, long since paid off, it would cost them $650 pe r month in rent! Needless to say, this was not taken well by the couple. The Keiths filed suit against the State not only to avoid their impending eviction, but to force a reevaluation of the State's Environmental Impact Statement. From personal experienc e as a Senior Meteorologist for the Air Pollution Control District, Mr. Keith "realized that added traffic would only increase air and noise pollution, not reduce it as the State had suggested" (Gates 1983). The Keiths' concern for their home and the environmental well-being of their community were not the only problems with the design. Citing the predominantly minority neighborhoods through which the freeway would travel, the NAACP joined with lawsuit. Toge ther with the Sierra Club (regarding noise and air pollution) and the City of Hawthorne (because the route would literally bisect that city), the Keiths soon found themselves with powerful partners in their fight to block further freeway construction. In 1972, Keith v. Volpe succeeded in granting an injunction against continuation of construction. The ruling called for Environmental Impact Statements along the entire proposed length of the freeway as well as detailed studies regarding pollution and availa bility of replacement housing (DiMento 1991, II-12). The California Division of Highways estimated a research period of six months. It took seven years and a reorganization-cum-demotion to the Department of Transportation for the State to complete the requirements of the injunction. During this seven-year stretch, the corridor cities found strong, effective voices for the first time in history. The City of Hawthorne, for example, refused to sign the freeway agreement with the state (without which no city streets could be closed for construction!) until the freeway was re-routed away from the Hawthorne city center. Similar incidents were common as cities most of the state had never heard of suddenly discovered that they could change the policies that had discriminated against them for so long. With renewed information and revised plans, the parties entered into a mutual Consent Decree, which defined the scope and the procedures for the construction of the Century Freeway. The Consent Decree was originally signed by all parties in 1979. Due to politics, however, certain amendments were necessitated. An amendment in 1981 satisfied the federal government's requests. By May 1982, construction had finally begun on what was to quickly become the most expensive freeway ever built. The Consent Decree is nothing less than a monument to public planning, as massive in the political realm as the Century Freeway is in the physical. The Decree consists of two main parts: ten "substantive areas" and four "exhibits" (DiMento 1991, II-28). Most of the substantive areas are legal clauses describing the execution of the decree; however, two are of important note. The first (Area 3), establishes an "Office of the Advocate for Corridor Residents." The Advocate would serve as an intermediary between displacees and Caltrans, acting on behalf of the plaintiffs, to record and work towards a resolution of any complaints regarding the freeway construction. The second important area (Area 10) established funding guidelines for the Century Freeway project. For the first time, the decree ruled, federal Interstate funds could be spent on replacement housing and associated cos ts (DiMento 1991, II-31). This provision of the original Consent Decree initially caused the federal government to balk at the project. Once outside funding sources had been secured and the decree amendment signed, the federal government reopened fundin g for the Century Freeway, and construction began anew. The exhibits are the truly fascinating parts of the Consent Decree. Exhibit A lists financial commitments from local government agencies, and Exhibit D consists of graphic depiction of certain freeway elements. Though these are important in their own rig hts, Exhibits B and C detail the most extensive and revolutionary changes in the original proposal. Exhibit B details the Housing Plan for those displaced by freeway construction. Consisting of three elements - "1025," "1175," and "110" - the Housing Plan called for the construction of over 4000 new homes. (The 1981 amendment reduced this value to 3700 , but by 1998 almost 5000 units had been built or renovated using the project's funds.) The first two refer to the number of units to be rehabilitated or construction; the latter refers to $110 million to be spent on "the maximum number of housing units which can be obtained with these funds" (DiMento 1991, II-32). One of the persons affected by this clause was Victwa Shakespeare. Part of the 1175 Element, Ms. Shakespeare was classified as a "re-renter," or "one who rents a Caltrans owned house within the Corridor." She and her four children moved into their house in 1973, hoping to take advantage of the newly instituted Century Freeway housing aid programs. Despite the impending doom for the neighborhood, it was still "a nice place to live" - until 1980. That is when Caltrans stopped re-renting corridor houses as they became vacant, thus easing the demolition process later. By 1983, however, the deteriorated, nearly abandoned (71% vacancy) neighborhood had become the domain of gang members and their violence. (Gates 1983) This complete breakdown of neighborhood structure is endemic to freeway construction (Brodsly 1981, 29). Planners point to the general success of freeways, and tout replacement housing as (is often the case) superior to what residents owned before. Few w ould be foolish enough to argue the necessity of freeways; but what even fewer seem to realize is that freeway construction through established neighborhoods is every bit as destructive as wanton urban renewal. The traditional solution has been poor attem pts at urban planning on the part of engineers. Though the Century Freeway project attempted to address many of these concerns, most of the parks and other open spaces created as part of beautification are today just as lifeless and abandoned as the clear ed right-of-way swaths preceding construction. Even before the project was completed, Caltrans had already allowed it to succumb to urban blight. Exhibit C consists of three requirements: "employment goals" to hire female and minority employees; enforced utilization of "minority business enterprises" (MBE's) and "women business enterprises" (WBE's) as subcontractors; and "regional business prefere nces," or the use of persons "who reside or have business in the corridor area" (DiMento 1991, II-33). This part of the decree also established the Century Freeway Affirmative Action Committee (CFAAC). This committee has several responsibilities, most of which focus on monitoring, participating, and recruiting MBE's and WBE's. The CFAAC is comprised of members from Caltrans, FHWA, the Los Angeles County Board of Supervisors, the NAACP, NOW, the Mexican-American Opportunity Foundation, and the state Govern or. (DiMento 1991, II-34) The State succeeded in not only meeting, but exceeding the hiring goals set by the Consent Decree. For highway contracts, 34% were filled by MBE's or WBE's (30% was the established average); and for housing contracts, 46% - almos t half - where 38% was average (California Department of Transportation 1998). Faced with reduced availability of federal funds, the original Consent Decree was amended in late 1981. The effects of this amendment are not critically obvious to the casual observer. The two largest changes were a reduction from eight lanes to six (plu s two HOV lanes), and the elimination of the transitway connector between the Century and Harbor freeways (which could have eventually provided light-rail transport directly between downtown Los Angeles and Los Angeles International Airport). Ironically, the lane reduction eliminated the need for the Keith's lot; however, it was threatened still by an overflow road, a proposal that was eventually dropped. Unfortunately, the house's presence in the freeway right-of-way had already sealed its f ate. Mrs. Keith still lives a few blocks away (having moved after her husband died in 1982), bitterly aware of the new homes with new owners - built on her old lot. (Gates 1995) The Century Freeway opened "at 3:13 p.m. on Oct. 14, 1993 - on time and within budget" (California Department of Transportation 1998). Many questioned (and still question) the need for the Century Freeway. Cynics may actually be close to the truth in sug gesting that the State simply exhausted the list of higher-priority projects on which to spend its allocated Interstate highway funds (DiMento 1991, II-37): Beverly Hills just boom, zapped that thing in a second. The Laurel Canyon freeway is another one that commands political opposition to it not based on any transportation sense or justifications, but just raw power. Others too, up and down the state. As t hese freeways of higher transportation priority got deleted, the Century kept moving up. There's nobody down there in the south central Los Angeles area. Watts/Willowbrook, the communities that the freeway transgressed, have no political clout or influenc e or capacity to go to Sacramento to say, "We don't like this freeway or if you are going to build it you've got to take into account the effects on our communities..."(Seminarist) (DiMento 1991, II-38) Whatever the rationale for the Century Freeway may have been, what matters is that it exists today as a testament to public pressure, community involvement, and affirmative action. The lawsuit which brought about the Consent Decree, though not original in and of itself, has bolstered opposition to thoughtless freeway design elsewhere in Los Angeles. The proposed Long Beach Freeway extension is an easy example (though the recent court loss by residents may yet seal their doom). The government-sponsored freeway juggernaut seems at first to be an unstoppable beast, yielding to nothing within its path. Yet with enough community action, even traditionally unempowered communities (such as Watts, Hawthorne, and Downey) can garnish a seat in the decision-making process. The panoramic sense of black impoverishment is hard to miss from atop the Harbor Freeway, which so many whites must drive at least twice every working day. Somehow, it occurs to very few of them to leave at the Imperial Highway exit for a change, to east instead of west only a few blocks, and take a look at Watts. A quick look. The simplest kind of beginning. But Watts is country which lies, psychologically, uncounted miles further than most whites seem at present willing to travel. - Thomas Pynchon (Bro dsly 1981, 38)