|
The
abandoned sand pit was owned by Hillman Properties and was
mined for clean sand for more than 15 years. Brookhill bought
the property this month.
There
are three categories of dredged materials: clean sediments;
low or moderately contaminated sediments (from ship berths,
marinas and stormwater outfalls); and highly contaminated
or hazardous sediments (from wastewater outfalls or industrial
sites).
Where
New York developers see an abandoned hole, Cindy Scherrer
(above) sees a habitat.
Brookhill
would be allowed to buy low or moderately contaminated sediments
but not highly contaminated or hazardous sediments.
Brookhill
Redevelopment generally specializes in so-called "brownfield
restoration" projects. The company has redeveloped 37 properties
in 22 states, transforming polluted sites such as abandoned
gas stations and dry cleaners into new shopping centers.
|
|
Barry Hersh has big plans for Tomahawk Island.
Hersh, the vice president of Brookhill Redevelopment, wants
to dig a huge hole on 26 acres of riverfront property, line
it with clay, fill it in with 1.2 million cubic yards of
dredged muck from the Willamette and Columbia rivers, cap
it, and plant some native vegetation on top of the resulting
mound of sediment.
Hersh insists that his New York-based company is not talking
about a dump or even a landfill, but rather a restoration
plan, a resource-enhancement project. He notes that the
property in question, an abandoned sand mine, is hardly
pristine. "It's basically a hole in the ground," he says.
"What you have there now is weeds. We think we can create
a much better habitat."
Cindy Scherrer sees it differently. Scherrer lives in the
neighborhood, and her business, Alder Creek Kayak, is across
the street. The hole in the ground that she points to is
filled with water and surrounded by cottonwoods. The small
lagoon provides habitat for turtles and beaver and grebes.
As she argues her point, a great blue heron swoops past.
Scherrer doesn't see how barging in contaminated sediments
will improve anything. "They're talking about poisoning
my back yard," she says. "They want to endanger the watershed
of the Columbia River, even more than it already is."
Scherrer and Hersh are on opposite sides of a fierce battle
in the normally quiet North Portland neighborhood of Tomahawk
Island. The island--basically a sand bar surrounded by houseboats
and marinas, jutting east from Hayden Island into the Columbia
River--could become the site of a massive depository for
"low or moderately contaminated" sediments dredged from
the Columbia and the Willamette. Hersh concedes that the
site could even accept dredgings from Portland Harbor, Portland's
recently declared Superfund site along the Willamette River.
While Hersh is steering Brookhill's proposal through a
maze of city, state and federal agencies, Scherrer is leading
the charge to stop him. More than 80 local businesses and
800 neighbors have signed onto her group, Citizens Against
Brookhill.
Scherrer points out that the neighborhood is zoned commercial
with a conservation overlay, a city designation aimed at
protecting sensitive land that does not allow for waste-related
sites. In other words, if Brookhill calls its dump a dump,
it must request a zoning change, a process that would require
the kind of public hearings that Scherrer and her neighbors
want--and the company doesn't. If, however, the mound of
muck can avoid the landfill label, Brookhill's opponents
would get shut out of the decision-making process.
That's why, when Brookhill applied with the city for a
land-use compatibility statement in August, the word "landfill"
didn't appear on any of the documents. Rather, the project
was labeled the Tomahawk Island Resource Enhancement Project.
City planner Jessica Wilcox didn't buy it. She sent the
application back as incomplete on Sept. 1. "It is important
for you to show that the proposed use is not Waste-Related,"
wrote Wilcox.
That won't be easy. Monty Morshed of the Department of
Environmental Quality's solid waste division--the state
agency that makes the call on what is a dump--says DEQ has
an exemption process for companies that deal exclusively
with clean soil. But Morshed doubts Brookhill's plan would
qualify. "That would be a tough sell," he says.
Still, Brookhill isn't about to quit. The company has hired
some of Portland's finest minds to plan, engineer and promote
the scheme, including power-broker extraordinaire Neil Goldschmidt.
Goldschmidt, the former mayor-governor-federal transportation
czar, spoke in favor of the project at several forums last
spring, one of them at the Columbia River Yacht Club. He
also escorted Brookhill managing director Mike Zukerman
to City Hall and, earlier this year, personally introduced
the Brookhill plan to City Commissioners Erik Sten, Jim
Francesconi, Charlie Hales and an assistant to Mayor Vera
Katz.
Goldschmidt, whose father recently died, was not available
for comment. Hersh says Goldschmidt chose to work on the
project because it is a good idea. Riverfront companies,
ports and marinas need a secure place to deposit the soils
they dredge in the course of business, he argues. "It's
not that these materials are so contaminated," he says.
"It's just that there aren't any places where you can put
them."
Hersh declined to discuss the economics of the proposal
with WW, but in previous public forums, Brookhill
representatives have said companies could be charged up
to $60 per cubic yard to deposit materials at the site.
(Hersh has since said he expects the fee to be lower.)
Hersh doesn't rule out the possibility of accepting dredgings
from the Superfund site in the Willamette. But he insists
that all of the sediments would be tested prior to delivery
in a system overseen by state and federal regulators and
that no highly contaminated or hazardous materials will
be allowed.
Brookhill opponents are not reassured. "If this stuff were
clean," says Larry Talbert, "nobody would be willing to
pay $60 per cubic yard to get rid of it."
Tomahawk residents point out that regulatory agencies have
been unable to prevent pollution of the Portland Harbor,
the Columbia Slough and other local toxic landmarks. They
see major flaws in the idea of storing moderately contaminated
soils on a sandy riverfront property that is prone to flooding.
Hersh, however, is confident that Brookhill will prevail.
"We believe in this project," he says. "It's gonna happen."
|
