More and more members moved away, and First Baptist Church of Clarendon, like many old churches in changing neighborhoods, struggled. Its pews emptied out, its coffers sagged.
Finally, the church decided to fall back on its main resource, the big lot on which the sanctuary was built half a century ago. If the church sold its property, a big office building would tower over its neighbors in Arlington. But the church decided to stay put and build a smaller chapel for its increasingly Asian and Hispanic congregation. The money would come from letting a developer put up 10 stories of apartments, 116 units, most dedicated to affordable housing.
You know where this story goes. All of a sudden, neighbors had problems. Many meetings later, Arlington's County Board okayed the project.
Except that no dispute ends until the building is built. Opponents have now sued to stop construction.
Seeing as how this is tolerant Arlington, the opponents say they don't object to working-class people, only to the height and density of the project.
The Rev. Alan Stanford, First Baptist's pastor, doesn't buy it. "Arlington County is known as being liberal and open -- until it comes to their back yard. Everyone in the lawsuit lives in a home assessed at over $700,000. They simply do not want affordable housing. I had people saying, 'What are you going to do about the crack babies that will be here?' This is housing for teachers, nurses, social workers!"
You can read a foot-high stack of reports on housing and make no sense of the strange way we organize our lives. Why do 70 percent of Montgomery County firefighters live in Frederick, Howard or farther afield? Why does Fairfax regularly lose teachers to smaller Virginia counties that pay lower salaries?
From the Chesapeake Bay to the Blue Ridge, working people -- even families making $100,000 a year -- can't afford to live where they work and can't find work where they live. That mismatch congeals traffic, feeds sprawl, crowds schools and frays families.
So some people move closer in, renovate old housing, embrace smart growth -- and thereby raise prices, exacerbating the housing crunch for middle-class families.
Arlington is known nationally for its dense, livable communities. Quiet neighborhoods thrive right behind the retail corridors.
But the reaction to First Baptist's proposal was loud and clear. Neighbors didn't want an apartment tower casting shadows over their houses. "This was the old trolley car neighborhood," says Nancy Iacomino, who served on Arlington's planning board and lives in Lyon Village. "You had the corner store, then an alley, then one-family houses. Now you have four or five stories of commercial and then the houses. A church is a perfect transition between commercial and residential. But this plan eliminates the idea of a transition."
Iacomino and other opponents insist that their objections were all about classic zoning issues. "You can never really know what's in anyone's heart," she says.
So look at their actions: Opponents offered to accept a building with 100 percent affordable units -- if it were limited to five stories.
The real issue, Iacomino says, is First Baptist's desire to fund a new chapel. "They wanted the cash," she says. "I understand that: They have to look after themselves to be a good steward. But when do they realize they're in conflict with their neighbors, and does that make them step back?"
As always in these cases, the two sides talk past each other. Housing advocates are quick to see class and ethnic bias. The opposition is aghast at being tagged as haters; many refused to speak on the record, fearing attaching their names to talk of class conflict.
Stanford says his opponents fear those who are less well-off. Fear is the engine of the opposition, but this is fear of change and loss.
Opponents worry that big buildings will drag down property values and diminish the sense of community. No matter that various studies show no such impact on land values. Opponents really wouldn't mind having teachers and social workers next door; they just don't want the change to be noticeable.
Small housing projects can steer clear of big blowups. But, alas, small projects barely address the big problem.
Next Tuesday: Not in Potomac either.
