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Firefighter training in Seattle missing 1 item: Water

Wetlands controversy boils up again

By Robert McClure
The Seattle Post-Intelligencer
Copyright 2006 Seattle Post-Intelligencer

Imagine trying to train firefighter recruits to put out a house fire — without using water.

That’s the pickle the Seattle Fire Department finds itself in at a new $33 million firefighter-training facility because of a city screw-up in illegally paving over wetlands while building the complex.

At the state-of-the-art training center near White Center, burlap bags hang over fire hydrants. The message: Stay away. Don’t use me.

This week a long-running controversy over the wetlands destruction boiled over again, threatening to further delay the day when recruits can douse mock kitchen and bedroom fires inside the fancy new burn building.

It’s been a complicated mess from the start, and the latest developments have left environmentalists mad at the city administration, the city administration at odds with a City Council member, the widow of the man who originally blew the whistle on the wetlands destruction in tears, and taxpayers stuck with mounting bills to make it all better.

And on top of all that, the firefighters can’t use water at the facility. That’s because federal wetlands regulators who cracked down on the city held back their approval to spray water, to ensure the city does something to balance the harm of destroying the wetlands.

City Council members thought they’d put the matter to rest last month when they approved a deal with federal regulators. In it, the city agreed to restore some natural areas and create wetlands to replace some of those destroyed.

But there’s one hitch: No one from the city bothered to tell the environmentalists — who uncovered the illegal wetlands destruction — about the terms of the deal. They first heard of the episode from a reporter, and they don’t like what they have learned since.

They object that the plan approved by the council allows additional destruction of wetlands at the site and replaces less than half the wetlands obliterated. They’re also unhappy that it doesn’t require fixing a downstream pond clogged by sediment during the construction.

And they are unhappy they were ignored by the city when the council acted last month.

The wetlands that were paved over formed some of the headwaters of Hamm Creek, which community members have painstakingly restored since the 1980s.

“Losing 50 percent of the wetlands is not on its face an acceptable solution,” said BJ Cummings of the Duwamish River Cleanup Coalition.

The environmentalists are calling foul, insisting that the council reconsider.

“This is ridiculous,” said James Rasmussen, a member of an intergovernmental forum working to restore the Duwamish River watershed, where the wetlands were destroyed. “This is something that shows that while there’s been a ground change in (how) most cities in the Duwamish Valley deal with these kinds of issues, the one that has been very difficult to deal with is the city of Seattle.”

On Wednesday, the Duwamish tribal council, declaring itself “very disappointed” by the lack of efforts to inform the public, added its weight to the call for reopening the matter.

City Fleets and Facilities Department Director Brenda Bauer — who still refers to the destroyed acreage as “alleged wetlands” — defended the resolution, in part because it calls for some work to make a Seattle City Light substation on the Duwamish River more salmon-friendly.

“We’ll have better fish and wildlife habitat in the Hamm Creek watershed and along the Duwamish,” Bauer said. “It will be a great outcome.”

The history of the city’s Joint Training Facility is a long and controversial one. Its original cost of $23.9 million rose to $27.3 million. The 2007 budget, including the wetlands fixes, raises the price another $6.1 million to $33.4 million.

Not long after the groundbreaking in 2004, city officials demoted the city employee in charge of the project, instead installing a well-connected consulting firm without a competitive bidding process.

Then workers overlooked the wetlands. Next, a key figure entered the saga: John Beal, a Vietnam veteran with post-traumatic stress disorder who transformed his life and won national recognition for leading the restoration of Hamm Creek. Beal warned the workers’ bosses they were breaking federal law. They ignored him.

Only when Beal was able to buttonhole a U.S. Army Corps of Engineers colonel in charge of protecting the region’s wetlands did city officials take note.

The ensuing Army Corps citation for violating the Clean Water Act was a huge embarrassment for Seattle, a city that prides itself on a green image and whose mayor recruits politicians nationwide to fight global warming.

The month after the facility opened, Beal, the activist, died of a heart attack.

The controversy “broke me — morally, mentally and physically,” Beal said before his death.

City Councilman Richard Conlin, chairman of the council’s committee on environmental affairs, attended Beal’s funeral and promised Beal’s friends and family he would “make things right” and keep them informed.

Conlin said that at an executive session of the council several months ago — where the public was not allowed and where no minutes or recordings are made — he asked Bauer whether she planned to solicit reaction from the public.

Bauer agreed to do so, Conlin said.

“I do not recall a conversation about communicating with the public,” Bauer said. “I really don’t recall having that directive or making that promise.”

Other council members said that while they did not recall that specific exchange, it’s typical of Conlin to ask about public involvement. Conlin said he was angry about the oversight, but he partially blames himself.

“I’m upset about the fact that she didn’t inform the public, but I also want to take responsibility myself for the fact that I did not do the follow-up I should have done” by inquiring about public input before the council vote, Conlin said.

It’s hard to tell what was said because the council was meeting in secret. That’s allowed by state law when a government body is facing a lawsuit, as in this case, or discussing personnel matters or real estate transactions.

In many other states, including Mississippi and Florida, state law allows such secret meetings but specifies that minutes must be taken. And those minutes are available to the public once threat of a lawsuit has passed.

It’s unclear whether members of the City Council will heed the request to reopen the matter.

“The community had a significant role in the planning for this site and particularly in protecting the environment. Any changes, including mitigation, should be brought to the community so at least they are informed about this, " said Councilman Tom Rasmussen.

Lana Beal, the activist’s widow, said of the city blowing off Beal’s old allies: “I’m very upset. I cried. ... I feel that Fleets and Facilities is not being truthful about the way things have been handled.”

Back at the training facility, temporary orange construction fences crisscross the campus, cordoning off areas to be restored. Elsewhere, big rocks hold down plastic sheets covering dirt in the still-unfinished complex.

Fire Chief Gregory Dean said he “loves” the new training campus. “It’s an awesome facility. It’s doing a lot of good things for us,” Dean said. “The one thing missing, obviously, is water.”