September 08, 2004

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Publication Date: Wednesday, September 08, 2004

Cover story: Portola Valley turns 40

By Marion Softky
Almanac Staff Writer

On Tuesday June 23, 1964, Portola Valley voters changed their future.

Eighty-one percent of the 1,794 registered voters in the unincorporated community turned out at three local garages. Almost 73 percent of them voted to create San Mateo County's 18th city.

Forty years later, the little-town-that-could has a lot to celebrate. Portola Valley still looks and feels rural. It is still run mostly by volunteers, and its businesses serve primarily local residents -- no huge office buildings; no regional, big-draw restaurants.

Thanks in part to Portola Valley's backbone in enforcing strict zoning, the Peninsula landmark Windy Hill is open to the public, unmarked by estate homes crawling up bare Spring Ridge.

Blessed and cursed by the San Andreas Fault, Portola Valley has earned national and world recognition for innovative planning that allows people to live in relative safety in areas threatened by geologic hazards of earthquakes, floods and landslides.

Portola Valley Ranch has won several awards for its innovative design that clusters homes on geologically stable areas while leaving dangerous fault and landslide areas in permanent open space.

Mayor George Comstock probably speaks for both old and new residents when he says, "I just love Portola Valley for the small-town feel."

But after 40 years, Portola Valley is also heading into a new era. With the passing of the old guard that built the town, a new generation of baby boomers and beyond may have different goals. They still value the rural character of the town and strongly support saving open space. But they also want larger houses and more services.

Right now, the debate is focusing on crafting plans for a new Town Center to replace the old school buildings straddling the San Andreas Fault. Will the town stick with a low-key community center? Or will it opt for more services such as gymnasium, nursery school, and/or super-soccer field? And how does it pay for these?

SallyAnn Reiss, chair of the Parks and Recreation Commission, is one of the dynamic new guard who wants more. She hopes the generations can work together. "It's important to look across generations," she says. "I think we should pull together. Let's not pull apart."

Fighting for their own town

The strongest force driving incorporation in Portola Valley may have been its fiercest opponent.

The notorious John Francis Neylan lived in the Lauriston mansion on Windy Hill and owned 1,500 acres overlooking Portola Valley. The crusty regent of the University of California started out as a newspaperman, cleaned up corruption in California as controller under Gov. Hiram Johnson, and went on to become attorney for William Randolph Hearst.

In the late 1950s, Mr. Neylan hired a young attorney called Pete McCloskey to fight incorporation. "He could see he'd be the main taxpayer," says Mr. McCloskey, who went on to beat the Atomic Energy Commission in a lawsuit over power lines for the Stanford Linear Accelerator, and then served in Congress. "Neylan was a fascinating guy," recalls Mr. McCloskey, who now, ironically, lives part of his life at The Sequoias retirement complex in Portola Valley. "He expressed himself tersely with pith and fury."

One of several mailers that Mr. Neylan sent to residents of Portola Valley called supporters of incorporation "sly, slick, and silly," Mr. McCloskey recalls with a chuckle.

These supporters were often young families who moved out to Portola Valley to build lives in the beautiful country setting. But they could also see the rampant growth that was paving orchards and filling land and building freeways throughout what used to be called the "Valley of the Heart's Delight."

Bill Lane and his father, for example, were scared by plans for a Willow Freeway that would slash through the foothills as it connected the Dumbarton Bridge with a new freeway planned up the Coast. They also saw roads in Westridge that dead-ended in what is now Stanford's Jasper Ridge Biological Preserve. "At the time, Jasper Ridge was zoned for housing," Bill Lane says.

Bob Brown, another member of the organizing committee, spent a lot of time in Redwood City, testifying against projects in Portola Valley at county hearings. "I was afraid we were going to lose the rural ambience we've been so teased about," he says.

Mr. Brown remembers testifying against a lumber yard at the corner of Alpine and Portola roads, where the shopping center is now; several more tennis clubs; another country club; and expansion of a quarry on Alpine Road, where the Portola Valley Garage is. "Sometimes we were successful, sometimes not," he says.

A galvanizing issue for incorporation came in 1958 when Mr. Neylan sold land to Northern California Presbyterian Homes for a new retirement community. That was the crowning blow, says Mr. Brown. "It's not that we opposed old folks, but the building complex came with sewers, and sewers were the opening wedge of development."

The battle for incorporation -- or for annexation to Woodside, which turned it down -- raged for nine years, sounding as shrill as any political fight today. Mr. Neylan died in 1960, and his land was sold to Hare, Brewer and Kelley. Large landowners who harbored plans for development and didn't want to pay extra taxes fought incorporation with passion.

But the vote was conclusive, and the new council was sworn in July 15, 1964. The late Nevin Hiester was Portola Valley's first mayor. Vice Mayor Bill Lane was joined on the council by Bob Brown, Sam Halsted and Eleanor Boushey, the first woman ever to serve on a city council in San Mateo County.

The first 20

The new Town Council got off to a fast start. The first day it adopted some 25 ordinances and resolutions.

Within a year, the new town was firmly on a course that holds today. It still maintains a high degree of low-cost, do-it-yourself government run largely by volunteers; it debates issues and decisions openly, at length, and generally politely; and it is extremely careful with land-use issues to preserve open space and maintain Portola Valley's cherished rural character.

The town also got a head start on the planning around geological hazards that has won international recognition. In 1965, it adopted a master plan, which had already been prepared under the county with input from local residents Bill Lane, Sam Halsted, and others. It hired George Mader, who helped prepare that plan, as town planner; and Jim Morton, an attorney specializing in city government, as town attorney. Mr. Morton guided the town legally for 30 years; Mr. Mader is still town planner.

That original master plan recognized the dangers posed by faults and landslides; it called for slope-density regulations -- a new concept at the time -- that would require larger lots on steep or unstable land. It also limited commercial development to services that meet the needs of local residents -- still a powerful deterrent to larger and larger businesses.

Pestered by the late Dwight Crowder and other geologists, the town set up a Geologic Hazards Committee. It prepared geologic maps of the town and established regulations to assure that new building would be safely located and structurally sound. In 1973, the council formally adopted rules requiring that buildings be set back from active fault traces.

Portola Valley's geologic planning has had worldwide impact, partly due to the U.S. Geological Survey (USGS) and Mr. Mader. The USGS used the Portola Valley experience as a model for a study of land-use planning for the Bay Region. Mr. Mader has visited countries all over the world after earthquakes in varying roles, including as a consultant to the United Nations. In his office library he has publications citing Portola Valley from China and Russia. "If you have a message, the word spreads," he says.

By the mid-1970s, Portola Valley was showing the fruits of its homework. Portola Valley Ranch, approved in 1975 after lengthy review, has won several awards for the innovative way it clustered 205 residences on 438 acres bisected by the San Andreas Fault.

Homes on "the ranch" are clustered on smaller lots on the stable lands east of the fault, while slithery Coalmine Ridge is now permanent open space threaded by public trails. Houses are located off ridgelines and separated by natural landscape, with only native plants allowed for landscaping.

In 1975-76, the town and school district also bowed to geology. Portola Valley School, sitting on top of the San Andreas Fault, closed and the school district sold the land and buildings to the town for $120,000 for a Town Center. The town moved its tiny town hall from the former Mangini's Roadhouse at the Alpine Hills Swim and Tennis Club to former classrooms. It still shares space with the library, the art gallery, artists' studios, and classes.

A breakthrough in saving open space came in 1979, when Corte Madera Associates, set up by Hare, Brewer and Kelley, donated 535 acres -- including the top of Windy Hill -- to the newly formed Peninsula Open Space Trust (POST). That land was transferred to the Midpeninsula Regional Open Space District (MROSD), and became the core of the Windy Hill Open Space Preserve. Residents of Portola Valley and the Peninsula knew they would never see subdivisions on top of the Midpeninsula's most prominent landmark.

1984-2004

During its second 20 years, Portola Valley has continued its traditions of using volunteers, keeping costs down, and preserving open space. At the same time, it has been confronting broader changes, particularly the influx of a new generation of two-worker families with Silicon Valley money and a yen for bigger houses and more service.

"The typical ranch house of the '50s through '70s no longer fits what people want," says Mr. Mader. "They want bigger and bigger houses."

Since 1979, town committees have been developing guidelines to control the size of houses and basements, and to limit the amount of floor space on individual lots.

Mayor Comstock sees a quandary. People are attracted to Portola Valley by its small scale and sense of openness; yet they want to tear down what's there and build a statement house. "They could destroy the very beauty that attracted them in the first place," he warns. "Money is a major factor."

The ongoing squabbles over development on Spring Ridge, the bare face of Windy Hill, ended in 1989 when the owner gave up and sold it to the open space district.

The 1990s brought the next major subdivision after Portola Valley Ranch. After years of arguing, the town approved the Blue Oaks subdivision of 34 homes clustered on 264 acres south of Portola Valley Ranch. While the houses are bigger, the fault and more of Coalmine Ridge are preserved as open space.

Portola Valley's tradition of civility broke down, at least temporarily, in 2003. After a nasty campaign, voters in a referendum rejected town plans to allow some higher density -- and more affordable -- housing on part of the Nathhorst Triangle commercial area.

The census of 2000 brought some comparisons between the town formed just after 1960 and today's. In 1964, Portola Valley had 2,860 residents, compared with 4,462 in 2000.

Mayor Comstock is surprised how small the change in population has been. "We doubled the population over 40 years instead of quintupling it," he says.

Even with new families moving into bigger houses, the number of people per household has declined. In 1960, there were 3.53 people per household; in 2000 there were 2.58.

The population is also older. All age groups from 44 and under have declined as a percent of the population, while those 45 and older have risen. Children under 20 have dropped from 40 percent of the population to 24 percent. And those 65 and over have gone from 6.7 to 21 percent.

Changes in the population and government requirements have created changes at Town Hall, too. "The world around us has changed dramatically in 40 years," says Town Administrator Angie Howard, who has been with the town for 14 years.

The building process has become more complicated and permits take longer to review and process, she says. "You have to be very vigilant. People push."

Ms. Howard adds, "Our biggest accomplishment is how little we have changed." The staff is up to 11.5 full-time people, with an operating budget of $3.2 million, even though requirements from the state have soared for everything from tracking storm runoff to writing reports.

Volunteers still play an important role in binding the town and doing its work. Some 125 people staff 15 committees and commissions. From the Trails and Conservation committees to the Planning Commission and Town Council, volunteers still give uncounted hours to the town. They help set policy, they plan events and parties such as the Blues and Barbecue, and they get their hands dirty on projects like litter cleanup days and last summer's town-wide day of pulling French broom.

Even though volunteers no longer do regular maintenance of trails and fields, Ms. Howard says, members of the Public Works Committee "still go out and clean culverts at 3 a.m."

Challenges ahead

The new Portola Valley still seems to retain the commitment to open space of the old Portola Valley. In 1997, 80 percent of Portola Valley voters approved a utility-users tax, which includes 2 percent of utility bills for open space.

Still, maintaining open space in the remaining large undeveloped properties remains a concern. Any new proposal to develop the remaining open lands on Portola Valley's western slopes is sure to raise a ruckus.

"Open space never takes care of itself," says Councilman Steve Toben. "It's doggone expensive to purchase just one parcel."

Portola Valley's biggest challenge right now is to achieve some kind of community consensus on redesigning and building a new Town Center.

With the present Town Center close to 50 years old and sitting squarely on the San Andreas Fault, there's a general feeling it's time to start over.

The public process that started last spring and is coming up on key meetings from September 8 into November has brought a flurry of ideas, but disagreements remain. Bob Brown wants to make do with the current Town Center, while SallyAnn Reiss and some of the newer people believe the town should provide a true community center with activities for all ages; she suggests a gymnasium, and nursery school. "If we want a true recreation center, we'll have to go for a larger town hall," she says.

"We're really redoing the heart of town," says Coucilman Ed Davis. "What the community expresses will be with us for 30 to 40 years."

Mr. Toben hopes the town can revive and maintain its 40-year tradition of respectful dialogue. But he admits, "There will always be strongly-held differences -- they give vitality to any dialogue."

INFORMATION

For information, see Portola Valley's Web site at www.portolavalley.net. Or read "Life along the San Andreas Fault: A History of Portola Valley" by Nancy Lund and Pamela Gullard.

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