Ruth Varn doesn't look intimidating.
The 75-year-old stands just over 5 feet tall and not even her bulky file folders would put her over 100 pounds. Her right leg is broken, and she hobbles around slowly with the aid of a walker. She looks at you with the sweet eyes of Grandma on Christmas Day and lets everyone — well, everyone she likes — know just how happy she is to see them. This lovely woman touches your arm when she says your name, and never would she think of leaving a room without saying goodbye.
But Varn, who chairs a voluntary and nongovernmental organization called the Albert Whitted Airport Advisory Committee, isn't taking any shit these days.
As head of the sole lobbying group for tiny Albert Whitted Municipal Airport in downtown St. Petersburg, Varn has led the airport's defense against city planners, real estate developers and the St. Petersburg Times.
Don Shea of the Downtown Partnership hosted a meeting last month to establish common goals among airport supporters, city representatives and airport neighbor, the University of South Florida St. Petersburg.
But Varn was annoyed. "I thought this meeting was supposed to be about common goals," she said, glaring across the table at Ron Barton, St. Petersburg's director of economic development and property management. "I sense an us-versus-them attitude coming from this meeting. I don't even understand why we're here, talking about building high-rises on our waterfront. The citizens of St. Petersburg have told us time and time again that they do not want us building on the Bay."
"C'mon, Ruth," said Barton, who weeks earlier had presented the City Council with a preliminary study showing the potential economic impact of redeveloping the airport into a Harbour Island-style neighborhood surrounded by a waterfront park.
"No one is talking about building high-rises or building on our waterfront," Barton told Varn. "You know that."
Indeed, Varn knew well that none of the development proposals brought by Barton and others allows for building on St. Petersburg's waterfront. But in this showdown over public policy, rhetoric is a gun, and Varn doesn't wait for the strike of noon to fire polished, silver-tipped bullets at airport opponents.
"Still, we shouldn't be having this conversation," said Varn. "We took a 20-year grant from the FAA last year and I have a letter here that states there are no provisions to pay back that grant."
"Well," said city development administrator Rick Mussett, pausing deliberatively and rubbing his chin. "That remains to be seen."
After the rhetoric and preliminary information, the current debate over the future of the airport comes down to a question: In a new St. Petersburg that has traded its green benches and retirement centers for fashionable lofts, trendy restaurants and hip companies, is there still a place for a waterfront airport serving light aircraft?
That's what Mayor Rick Baker has asked Barton's agency to examine — much to the chagrin of airport supporters, the Federal Aviation Administration, and at least three City Council members.
The history of commercial aviation starts in St. Petersburg. On Jan. 1, 1914, Tony Jannus charged St. Petersburg Mayor A.C. Pheil $400 for a 23-minute flight from downtown St. Petersburg to Tampa, at the mouth of the bay. In 1929, St. Petersburg constructed one of the nation's first airports and named it after native Albert Whitted, one of the first 250 men to join the Naval Aviation Corps.
As the city matured, Jannus' maiden flight shaped St. Petersburg as much as the devastating fire at Webb City. The name of a downtown concert venue, Jannus Landing, honors his historic 20-mile flight, and airport supporters are quick to mention how Whitted Airport bookmarks St. Petersburg's important chapter in aviation history.
Today, St. Petersburg has an identity crisis. In shedding its blue-hair image for BayWalk and former crack houses for trendy apartments, city leaders have debated how to move forward while respecting what the city once was.
Among the new guard of citizens changing St. Petersburg from the inside is developer and architect Tim Clemmons. His developments include Straub Court, Charles Court and Fifth Avenue Lofts.
In June 2001, Clemmons presented Next Stop: St. Petersburg, an exhibit at Central Gallery, which illustrated his vision for the city's future. In his St. Petersburg of the future, a bustling business and entertainment center stretches from the edge of the bay to 16th Street. Light-rail trains run east and west along Central Avenue and north and south along Ninth Street from Midtown to the Gateway area. The light-rail connects to a statewide high-speed rail system. His vision was a model of new urbanism unveiled in sleepy St. Petersburg.
But one neighborhood in Clemmons' vision sparked debate among city leaders.
Just southeast of the Bank of America Tower, Clemmons drew a medium-density, mixed-use neighborhood framed by boardwalks and a waterfront park. Condominiums and lofts line the park, and Bayshore Drive and Sixth Avenue South intersect at a retail center surrounded by apartments and a museum. In the southwest corner, next to a Port of St. Petersburg complete with a modern cruise terminal, USF-St. Petersburg receives two much-needed blocks for dormitories.
The problem? Those 156 acres Clemmons used to build his imaginary neighborhood now belong to Whitted Airport.
"I guess I just happened to be in the right place at the right time," Clemmons said of the debates he sparked. "Don't get me wrong. I think Albert Whitted Airport is a good use of the land. I'm just not convinced it's the best use."
The Times isn't convinced it is the best use, either. A longtime airport opponent, the city's dominant daily newspaper followed Clemmons' exhibit with editorials calling for development on the waterfront land by private enterprise and USF-St. Petersburg. "Albert Whitted is a luxury for a fortunate few, and it does not carry its own weight," the Times wrote in an editorial last October.
Mayor Baker, whom the Times supported for election in 2001, won City Council approval for a study of land-use alternatives for the airport. Planning director Barton, a familiar face around big public development projects in the Tampa Bay area, headed up the study.
While he was with the sports and entertainment practice of KPMG Peat Marwick, Barton worked on economic studies that Tampa Mayor Dick Greco and other Hillsborough County leaders used to lobby for construction of Raymond James Stadium. He joined the city of St. Petersburg last year to work on downtown redevelopment projects.
On March 14, Barton gave the City Council his long-range strategy for redeveloping the waterfront. His presentation detailed the economic impact of using Whitted's 156 acres to develop an 82-acre mixed-use neighborhood surrounded by a 40-acre park that would rival Northshore Park in size.
Barton's presentation partitioned the Whitted land into 74 acres for public use, including parkland, the Bayfront Center and an expanded port; 71 acres for residential use; and 11 acres for mixed-use commercial, such as restaurants and shops.
During the presentation, he flipped through photographs of smiling, sandal-clad white people frolicking in city parks and along Central Avenue — with nary a minority or homeless person in sight. Manicured three- and four-story buildings line the streets, with nice new cars parked outside. A retiree rides her bicycle past moored sailboats.
Then came the photographs of Whitted Airport: an aerial shot of hangars lined up in an industrial wasteland on the clear-blue bay and a portrait of West Florida Helicopters framed behind a fence and a red sign reading: "RESTRICTED AREA NO TRESPASSING."
Barton's neighborhood has trendy apartments and townhouses similar to The Madison at St. Pete, where monthly rents will range from $870 to $1,685. It is almost identical to the neighborhood Clemmons proposed.
Estimating 4,260 units housing 8,500 people, St. Petersburg commissioned the Tampa Bay Regional Planning Council to forecast the economic impact. Its forecast for Barton's neighborhood is impressive. Redevelopment would create 1,400 jobs in the city and generate $110-million in annual spending.
Additionally, according to city figures, redevelopment would increase land values from $152,000 to $1.8-million per acre. That would generate $20.1-million in annual tax revenue when the 82 acres are fully developed.
The estimate is conservative. "We went soft on it because I didn't want to overestimate," said Avera Wynne, the regional council's planning director.
"We sold Weeki Wachee for, what, $14-million?" said Barton. "The city is still trying to figure out how to spend that money. This neighborhood would offer the equivalent to selling a Weeki Wachee every year. That's more money for police, fire, parks and schools."
And certainly more money than the airport generates in a city where pennies are pinched so tight they're turning blue. Barton says the city loses money on the airport. Varn maintains the airport is profitable and generates economic activity.
Who's right? Well, both — and therein lies the rub.
Although St. Petersburg owns the airport, the city considers it a separate entity for bookkeeping purposes. Additionally, under Whitted's runways is a series of honeycomb pipes leading next door to a sewage-treatment plant, the city's oldest and lowest-capacity one.
"If you flush a toilet in St. Pete, there's a good chance it goes to Whitted," said Kevin Dunn, the city's planning director.
Every year, the city juggles its money by paying the airport $172,406 to rent the land to use for the pipes, sewage plant and approximately one-third of the Bayfront Center. Meanwhile, the airport "rents" its own land from the city by making an annual payment in lieu of taxes of $87,624.
Although Whitted still has $84,782 after making the payment, "that doesn't make the airport solvent," said Barton. According to Barton, the city would pay the $172,406 to anyone who used the land. The airport, then, can't claim that $172,406, which makes it profitable, as income.
It's not that simple, said Varn. Barton "totally ignores the fact that any city department back-charges another city department for a project," she said. "For instance, any time a city engineer gets involved, the airport pays city engineering."
Truth here is a matter of perspective, then.
But what makes the current airport debates particularly timely is that the sewage plant is due for a multimillion-dollar overhaul. The city faces the question of whether to upgrade a plant located precariously on the waterfront, or scrap it and divert waste to the city's three other plants, all of which run under capacity.
If the city eliminates the plant, which could cost millions, the war drum for development will only beat louder.
"The reality is that it may be expensive to do this, but the potential value of this is so great," said Clemmons. "This is not a piece of land left over in Pasco County. This land is right in the heart of a burgeoning city and surrounded by water on three sides."
As debates among city employees and airport defenders have become tense, the Downtown Partnership's Shea has adopted what he admits is the role of Caesar's wife.
"There are well-meaning people and good-sounding ideas on both sides of this," said Shea. "We have a constituency that would like to maximize the yield of that parcel. On the other hand, we have certain other citizens who are frequent users of the airport and see it as an impetus for economic development."
Although the potential benefits of developing a neighborhood on airport land are great, the airport can offer a number of future benefits as well, said John Bryan, a city council member.
For one, Whitted Airport is in a position to take advantage of post-Sept. 11 changes in air travel.
According to a survey by Air Charter Guide, which publishes directories of licensed charter aircraft worldwide, 73 percent of participating charter companies reported increased business from January 2002 over January 2001. The average increase per operator was 28 percent, and Dr. Seth Young of Embry-Riddle Aeronautical University in Daytona Beach said that industry is growing rapidly.
As security issues become a concern and the airlines' hub-and-spoke system becomes archaic, more people will choose to fly on eight- to 12-seat charter planes, said Young. "The public seems to think general-aviation airports are a waste of land," he said, "but I've done enough research to show that general-aviation airports contribute to economic growth."
Isn't that growth thanks only to a handful of rich flyboys? Of course, said Young.
"If you want to kick out the rich people and only want the poor slobs, then fine," he said. "But most people want to encourage spending. Who doesn't want rich people flying in and out of the city, eating at restaurants, going to shops, watching baseball games? You're better off using the asset. What about the marina — isn't that just a bunch of rich people and their boats? Pick your poison."
The airport's economic impact is subtle, said Shea. For instance, Franklin Templeton opened a regional office in St. Petersburg because its chief executive officer liked the convenience of flying in and out of Whitted Airport.
According to a 2002 economic-benefit analysis, the airport annually offers the city $15-million in primary economic impact and $22-million in induced impact, creating 152 jobs. By 2004, the airport is expected to create at least 249 jobs.
Larry Langebrake, director of the University of South Florida's Center for Ocean Technology, said he also needs the airport.
Langebrake and his colleagues were the first to insert microelectromechanical systems (MEMS) into "harsh environments," such as Tampa Bay. MEMS, which can be mass-produced inexpensively like silicon-based computer processors, function as miniature laboratories that can detect changes in their environment. MEMS currently placed in Tampa Bay detect currents, schools of fish and chemical changes in the water. Langebrake said MEMS can be placed on airplanes and adapted to detect germ warfare or even the Saharan dust believed to cause red tide.
By coupling underwater and airborne MEMS, Langebrake believes USF can create a port defense system that could attract some of the $48-billion Congress set aside for homeland defense.
Whitted Airport is a necessary component, according to Langebrake. The final stage of the research involves unmanned aircraft that would be nearly impossible to operate out of St. Petersburg-Clearwater or Tampa international airports, due to FAA safety regulations governing unmanned flights, he said.
On April 17, Langebrake explained his research to the City Council in a cable-televised meeting on the St. Petersburg government channel because the Times hadn't reported on his research. "They (the Times) print what they want to print, and you know, there's a reason they're not reporting on MEMS," said Bryan. "Trust me, they know all about MEMS."
The Times did run a Feb. 23 article that explained briefly what USF is doing with MEMS. But the newspaper did not mention Langebrake and his defense-oriented research. The Tampa Tribune covered Langebrake's appearance before the City Council.
The Times' support of Whitted development has been relentless. In a March 18 editorial, the paper called Bryan a "shill for airport supporters," claiming he has done everything in his power to squelch debate.
"The Times must be desperate," said Jack W. Tunstill, vice chairman of the Airport Advisory Committee. "They've resorted to calling names."
Bryan was the only City Council member to attend the Downtown Partnership's April 5 discussion. "I don't care that they called me a shill," he said. "What bothers me is that they said I'm stopping debate. Look, I'm here today."
Two days after Langebrake's presentation, the name-calling continued on the Times' opinion-editorial page. "St. Petersburg City Council member James Bennett — a pro-airport zealot — has manufactured a link between the airport and the nation's fight against terrorism, and he is trying to scare everyone into believing it," the Times editorialized.
The city's newspaper of record would have readers believe that Langebrake's research, while important, has made the learned scientist just an unwitting pawn in Varn's airport defense.
"They are so ingrained on this issue, they won't report on it," Bennett said of the Times. "They'll only editorialize about it."
Although it's not unusual for daily newspapers to support development, the Times is in a unique position. Its owner, the nonprofit Poynter Institute for Media Studies at 801 Third St. S., is right in the noisy flight path of Whitted's northeast-southwest runway.
Airport supporters wonder if the constant propeller noise has deafened Poynter and the Times to the chorus extolling Whitted's potential benefits.
Poynter President James M. Naughton said he's worked in journalism long enough to know that editorials don't color news coverage at the Times. "I'd be very surprised if the reporting was affected," Naughton said. "Groups with special interests often ascribe motives where none exists."
But Naughton is by no means a supportive neighbor of the airport. "Do I like small planes flown by people, some of whom may be relatively new to flying, coming directly over our building and making loud noise?" said Naughton. "The answer is no."
Whether Whitted Airport is good for the city or not, St. Petersburg could be stuck with it for the next 20 years. Last year, the city accepted a $516,000 federal grant to upgrade its runway lights. The FAA expects the airport to maintain the lights for 20 years. Closing the airport before the expiration of the grant would mean having to reimburse the FAA — that is, if the FAA would allow it.
In a letter last November to Airport Advisory Committee Chairwoman Varn, FAA district manager W. Dean Stringer wrote: "The grant agreement does not have provisions for repayment of federal monies in order to cancel the grant and associated terms and conditions. Because of the important role Albert Whitted plays in the airport system, the Federal Aviation Administration would not support any effort to rescind the contract (grant) obligations."
Stringer referred Weekly Planet's request for an interview to Christopher White, a regional FAA spokesman in Atlanta, who articulated the agency's stance on Whitted by reading the quoted passage from the letter, word for word.
But what if St. Petersburg ignored the FAA and closed Whitted Airport without federal permission?
"The FAA does have a contract with the city of St. Pete and we expect them to fulfill their contractual obligation," answered White, who said there is no precedent for closing Whitted and reneging on the contract.
"It's a bad idea to do that to the FAA because they won't give you money in the future," said Young of Embry-Riddle.
Airport director M.O. Burgess agreed. "If you take a grant and you don't do it, particularly with the feds, you'll have trouble getting money in the future," said Burgess. "The only way you can get it then is with Congressional pull."
The Times waited until May 8 to report that the FAA would not support development on the Whitted land, claiming letters sent from the agency to city leaders in April marked the first time the feds took a stance. In fact, the FAA expressed its disapproval as early as November 2001 — something airport supporters had been telling the city and the Times at every possible opportunity.
City Council member Bill Foster said an additional $40-million awaits the city. If St. Petersburg spends around $4-million over the next 10 years on airport improvements, Foster said the city will receive a match of $40-million from state and federal government. "If the city sits around debating, it may lose its eligibility for the money," said Foster.
In an interview last month, Mayor Baker wondered where his cash-strapped city would get the $4-million. "No one has identified a source (of money) for me yet," Baker said.
Of the grant money the city may lose, Baker said: "I'm not convinced that if a grant was not taken this year, it would not be available next year."
But Foster maintains that studying development proposals for Whitted Airport is a waste of public money and time. "My preliminary numbers tell me it will almost be, in my opinion, cost prohibitive to do anything with that property but an airport," he said.
Selling any part of the airport for private development would require a referendum. Baker, who will not take a stance on the issue until all studies are complete, said he does not believe the issue will be ready for the November ballot. But Foster wondered aloud to the Planet if the mayor might be pushing for a November vote.
This summer, the city will release cost estimates for removing the treatment plant and making the airport land ready for development. Those figures have the potential to fuel or squelch this debate — or perhaps make it even more ambiguous.
Will this issue ever reach St. Petersburg voters?
"I wouldn't touch this without a referendum," said Foster. "I don't even like to talk about it. Something like this is too big for the Council and the mayor to decide."
St. Petersburg freelance writer Trevor Aaronson can be reached by e-mail at trevoraaronson@yahoo.com.
This article appears in May 22-28, 2002.
