Political connections, Falcons parking: Castleberry Hill residents worry that the fix is in

Look what surface parking lots did for the neighborhoods around the Braves’ ballpark, they say. Damn little! In fact, empty acres of asphalt parking lots are like missing teeth in a smile. They kill an image and keep suitors (development in this case) away.

Russell’s company wants to change the zoning classification to allow parking-for-hire on land it controls about two blocks from where the new stadium will stand. The lots have been empty since 2006 when Russell bought out Carver Bible College and promptly tore it down.

Residents complain they got hoodwinked when that occurred. They say the matter is one of political intrigue, of clout and connections winning out. They contend the city enabled the Bible college to avoid the restrictive landmark designation, be classified as mixed-use residential/commercial and then transfer that lucrative zoning status to Russell.

Carver’s president says there was no such hoodwinkery. The Russells are silent.

Tami Donnelly was Castleberry Hill’s neighborhood president a decade ago when they were drawing up a community Master Plan. This month, she wrote a letter to current board members as ammunition in their fight to stop the parking lot. Her letter recounted 2006 negotiations with the Bible college, Herman Russell and City Councilman Ivory Young.

Carver College (they have since dropped “Bible” from the name) officials said they wanted the school to grow and did not want to be bound by onerous regulations that come with landmark designation.

“We would have needed approval for (building) materials and what we could do with our property,” college president Rev. Robert W. Crummie recounted this week. “We had been here for years (since the 1940s). But then they move in our neighborhood and tell us what we could do?”

Donnelly said Young advocated easing the restrictions on the college. She said residents asked Russell, Crummie and Young whether a sale, which was rumored, was afoot. All denied there was, she said. But soon, she and others say, the deal went through and the school moved to a large tract on Cascade Road that, property records show, had been owned by Russell-Carver Cascade Road LLC.

“Unfortunately that afternoon someone was lying and we were in the midst of a backroom deal,” Donnelly wrote in her letter.

'That is an attack on our character'

The college website recounts the school’s history and explains the move differently, “By June 2006, after decades of enjoying much fruitfulness on the Nelson Street campus, God enabled Carver to enlarge its footprint from 2 ½ acres to 16 acres on Cascade Road.”

Herman Russell, while no deity, is certainly a patron saint of Atlanta commerce, heading one of the largest black-owned construction/real estate firms in the nation.

Councilman Young said he had no part in the real estate transaction. Crummie said the Bible college was not acting as a proxy for Russell when it sought the rezoning. He said no sale was afoot at the time.

“That’s false; that is an attack on our character,” he said. “The college was doing it for the college.”

Russell's company, which is now run by his sons, wanted to build condos on the wedge-shaped property in the next couple of years. At the time, the area was hot, a mix of new construction and redeveloped lofts and warehouses just south of downtown. The area is described as having the best remaining remnant of Atlanta's railroad past and was once known as Snake Nation for the concentration of snake oil salesmen, ruffians and ne'er-do-wells who resided there back in the day.

By 2000, Castleberry was reinventing itself into an artsy community just walking distance from Centennial Olympic Park and the new Georgia Aquarium. It was finally happening; downtown would have some there there.

But then the recession halted all those plans and the property operated as a parking lot to get some revenue flowing to Parc Vue Condo Development II, the LLC managed by Russell’s company. After all, it’s hard for land to just sit there. The company paid at least $2.5 million for the land and has an annual property tax bill north of $17,000.

'Stupid is what stupid does'

So they have parked cars on the cement footings where Bible classes once were held and in the shade of trees where students once studied. An old brick and wrought-iron fence lines part of the property. At the gate, someone has spray-painted “Stupid is what stupid does.”

Courtney Powell and his 3-year-old son, Kollon, use the property as a park and were kicking around a soccer ball the other day.

Powell, a music promoter, likes Castleberry’s feel and the fact that he can walk to work. But he figures the new stadium, closer to the neighborhood, will bring more commotion. “By then, I’ll be gone,” he said.

Young said he has no problem with Russell turning the property into a parking lot for the time being. “Mr. Russell’s vision is to embrace the long-term vision of the community,” he said. Russell’s company office is in the community.

But the market is not yet ready for new development, Young said. A drive through the area shows several empty business fronts in buildings constructed before the recession (although residents say most condos and apartments are filled.)

Young said a permanent parking lot is neither in Russell’s interest nor the best use of the property. But the company “needs a revenue stream in the interim,” he said.

If not, the property could revert to some other owner, someone who doesn’t have the community’s best interest in mind, Young said.

And that could be bad, since the property is not bound by historic landmark restrictions.

'20 years can come and go'

Everett Morris, a young attorney who lives in Castleberry, said giving Russell a permanent exemption to the zoning regulations would open the gates for more parking lots. “If the city allowed him to get rezoned, they’d have a helluva time saying ‘no’ to other property owners,” said Morris, whose father, Lee, once sat on the City Council.

“It encourages them to sit on their property and do nothing,” Morris said. “Twenty years can come and go like it did by the Braves stadium.” Or even 50 years.

The matter has been bubbling since last year after the Falcons stadium deal was inked. It was to go to the city’s Zoning Review Board this week but was suddenly withdrawn. The Russells’ attorney said company officials want to talk with the community to work out a deal.

Morris said the neighborhood went public and went loud this time because they worry the parking lot is a done deal.

“Let’s not let this slide under the rug,” he said.