Black Diamond to grow with grace

Seattle Times, November 16, 2006

Right over there, up by the cottonwood tree — that's where the theater stood. That's where Howard Botts sat through movies as a boy, his stash of candy in hand.

Black Diamond's days as a bustling, coal-mining town had already come to a close. But a block away from the theater, a 60-room hotel still stood. There was a general store nearby, selling everything from sticks of dynamite to socks. And the confectionary, of course. "I call it the confectionary," said Botts, 75, the town's mayor, pointing to the building it occupied. "But it's really the pizza deli."

Time has changed Black Diamond from one of King County's busiest cities to one of its quietest. Now, with careful planning, and some trepidation, the city is getting ready to boom again. A developer recently bought nearly 1,600 acres of land. Black Diamond's population is expected to more than triple, from about 4,000 to 14,000 within the space of several years.

Black Diamond is something of a holdout in South King County, a rural enclave that stayed the same while sprawl consumed the cities around it. But city officials said they could put off growth for only so long. So in the early 1990s, they started writing rules and negotiating agreements that would give the small city some control over how it looked when development finally arrived.

Gene Duvernoy, president of the Cascade Land Conservancy, described the effort as a model for city planning across the state.

"Black Diamond is allowing itself to grow, and grow with grace," he said.

The vision is a walkable city, with everything from wildlife corridors to trails through town. A city with rural flavor, and all the views of Mount Rainier preserved.

The developer, Yarrow Bay Group, described it as that rare opportunity to do "master planning" — to design a large community from scratch, in the mold of Snoqualmie Ridge and Issaquah Highlands.

But in Black Diamond, the whole city is the canvas. Yarrow Bay Group owns land on both the east and west sides of town. Its developments will set the tone for the town.

The company would not say how many houses it planned. But city officials are expecting as many as 3,500 units. As mayor for more than two decades, Botts can't help but worry.

"Every minute," he said.

A necessary change?

Sure, the traffic will be brutal, with the burden of so many new residents traveling a narrow two-lane road. And yes, the town's character could shift some, as young families come in with no sense of Black Diamond's history.

But Rick Luther, the longtime police chief, believes this change has got to happen.

The city is suffering with only a handful of businesses — a few car-parts stores, a couple of bakeries, a tack and feed store.

"I really, truly love this town," said Luther, who grew up in the area. "But if it doesn't grow, it's gonna die."

When the 20th century turned, Black Diamond was at its peak, a coal-mining hub with as many as 4,000 people. But a few decades later, there was a strike, the mines shut down, and the slow decline began.

One by one, the town lost schools, a grocery store, a theater. Its population hovered around 2,000 until it annexed Lake Sawyer a few years ago. Now it's best known for its surrounding forest and the Black Diamond Bakery, a 104-year-old restaurant turned tourist attraction.

But low tax revenues leave Black Diamond's government struggling. In the midst of an ongoing staff shortage, Luther said he sometimes finds himself considering whether the town can afford the $42 handcuffs or the $28 pair.

"We're like the Kmart blue-light special of government," he said.

"Aw shucks"

At City Hall, where a small, coin-operated candy dispenser stands in the lobby, everyone is expected to help out. Over the past three decades, Luther has dug graves and fixed power lines. He acted as city administrator for several years.

That was back in the early 1990s, as Black Diamond started to plan for its future. The city had already called a forum, asking what residents wanted. Officials spent the next decade working on ordinances to guide the town's development.

One of the ordinances requires that about half the land now in Yarrow Bay's hands remain open space.

"Right away, that does a huge amount to set the character of the town," said David MacDuff of Yarrow Bay.

Unlike most cities in South King County, Black Diamond had the space to plan on a large scale. Hundreds of acres of vacant land surrounded the town. The city annexed as much as it could, so that when the land did sell, builders would have to follow city rules. It took years of bargaining with land owners, the county and the land conservancy, but the city got hundreds of acres — including the forest view that greets drivers on the bridge to Black Diamond.

Now the city is busy studying its fiscal future, hoping to plan wisely for the day when the developers leave and the town has to sustain what's left.

You wouldn't know it to look at them, said Duvernoy, of the land conservancy, but that tiny team is a force.

"They play this 'aw shucks' country approach," Duvernoy said. "Don't let it fool you for a minute."

Talking to the town

After months of rumors and reports, the developers came to talk to the town in September.

The meeting started as the moon rose beside the Black Diamond Historical Museum, once a train depot that brought miners into town. There was a clear view of the stars; the only sound was of rustling grass.

A few steps away, hundreds of people gathered inside the Black Diamond Bakery to hear where their community was headed. There was a sense of resignation in the room. So little land left to develop in Maple Valley and Covington. Only a matter of time before builders came to Black Diamond.

Development could bring good things back, residents said — amenities the town once had. But it could also bring big-box retail and commercial lights that kill the view of the stars.

Judith Black, director of the Black Diamond Community Center, said several seniors have already sold their homes and headed where the quiet might keep — Shelton, Sequim, some small town in Montana.

"When you live in a place where there's a lot of woods, and you've got elk in your backyard, it's disappointing," Black said.

Just outside town is the scene some people fear: rows of houses, one packed tight against the next, the only variation a slight shade of color.

Yarrow Bay built this housing complex. But it won't do the same in Black Diamond, MacDuff said. The city's ordinances will not allow it. The citizens will not want it. And the company is committed to seeing the project done the Black Diamond way.

Come January, it will set up an office there and pay the salaries of new city employees who will focus exclusively on the first development — as many as 1,200 units on the east side of town.

If all goes well, the town will evolve just the way it wants. Neighbors will call to each other from front porches. Children will walk to school on paths across town. Deer will wander through woods without threat. That's the idea, at least.

"I'll be optimistic," Botts said, "until someone shows me otherwise."