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Concern about growth grew in '70s
Arizona
By
David Brown
Not that Arizona stopped worshipping the Growth God: Immigrators
kept setting their cruise controls for Arizona - new families
needing housing, shopping centers, and jobs. Big money was
being made; manufacturing, construction, tourism and service
industries were on steroids, and government coffers were sparkling
with the new gold. A glorious future glimmered.
In 1972, Phoenix, the bird rising from the ashes of the Hohokam
culture, had grown into the third largest city in the nation,
geographically: 247.9 square miles. By 1980, Phoenix was even
larger: 329.1 square miles. Only 100 years before, this was
a square-mile townsite with 300 pioneers farming 2,000 acres
on the shores of a flooding river.
By 1980, Phoenix had grown to 789,704 inhabitants - the ninth
most populous city in the nation, up from 20th in 1970 (584,300).
Maricopa County had moved from 975,000 in 1970 to 1,510,000
in 1980. Twenty years later, it would grow into the country's
fastest growing county.
Tucson also was expanding - to 330,537 old Puebloans. One
hundred years before, when the Southern Pacific railroad pulled
in, the town was the Arizona Territory's largest at a booming
7,000.
Satellites were soaring, too, in the '70s: Mesa: 152,453
(almost doubling in the decade); Glendale: 97,172 (almost
tripling); Tempe: 106,743 (a 40-percent increase); and Scottsdale,
29,673 (more than doubling). Compare: In 1950, sleepy Scottsdale
had just 2,032 people.
Problems at the Pass
Still, by the '70s, holes in the dike had opened, cracks
were snaking in the foundation. For one, the lack of growth-commensurate
infrastructure in the desert boomtowns was becoming more apparent
- even to the most laissez faire "movers and shakers."
Citizens had committed to the automobile but there was no
freeway commitment by government. People were dispersing outward,
farther from their employment and the original townsites -
but no effective mass transit was scheduled. The first problem
was beginning, finally, to turn heads. The second, 30 years
later, still finds heads in the sand.
Moreover, the desert cities were moving toward the surrounding
mountains - with alacrity. Growth was colliding with the lifestyle
philosophy that had drawn people to the Valley after World
War II: The mountains signaled recreation, open space, symbolizing
the desert lifestyle people aspired to when they had left
their gray-sky Rust Belts and windswept Midwest homes. Now,
the mountains figured to become high-end residential lots,
resorts and golf courses.
What Do You Do with This Thing Called Growth?
Some Tucsonans opposed it: But they were rebuffed by government
and the bulldozer of history: Development in the desert was
more important than deportment with the desert. "This
was considered the initial rallying point for the formation
of a no-growth or limited-growth philosophy in Tucson as the
prospect of exploding community expansion fueled intense public
debate," write Anne M. Nequette and R. Brooks Jeffery
in their recently published A Guide to the Architecture of
Tucson (Tucson: University of Arizona Press, 2001: p. 32).
While some less desirable land stayed undeveloped, the more
valuable land, especially near or on the mountains, was being
bladed, shoveled, bulldozed. Even in the boom 1960s, this
was disturbing: The city of Phoenix purchased the land above
1,800 feet on Camelback Mountain to prevent its being filled
with high-value homes and low-value public space.
By 1973, it was clear the other mountain areas, including
South Mountain and the North Mountains, were in danger. That
year, Phoenicians approved $23.5 million in bonds to protect
the Phoenix Mountain Preserve. Seven years later, the city
owned 75 percent of the land. As a result, today the protected
areas are growth oases: Here Phoenicians who choose to can
breathe - can hike, jog, enjoy trail rides, show their children
how the Valley looked 100, 200, 300 years ago.
Scottsdale has been particularly focused on protecting its
McDowell Mountains in recent years - although the hillsides
have already been scarred by homes and retail that could have
been built at a lower elevation.
Throughout Phoenix, leapfrog development continued on apace.
By 1980, 40 percent of the empty land in Phoenix was vacant.
(Bradford Luckingham: The History of a Southwestern Metropolis
[Tucson: University of Arizona Press, p. 193]). Mayor Margaret
Hance was concerned, as were citizen groups, but the city
continued to push centrifugally, inexorably, outward. A bright
point was the development in 1979 of the Phoenix Concept Plan
(Village Concept): Nine urban villages, each with an employment-retail
center, were designed, in part, to support the infilling of
vacant lands. This microfocus has, in varying degrees, helped.
Beat Sprawl: Build Arcosanti
Sparked by the energy crisis of the '70s and the environmentalism
of the '60s, concerned citizens suggested other methods to
battle the hegemony of the automobile and urban sprawl. In
1970, Italian architect and visionary Paolo Soleri, a former
student of Frank Lloyd Wright, began building Arcosanti, an
experimental town 70 miles north of metropolitan Phoenix in
the hills east of Prescott. An architectural work in progress,
Arcosanti, when complete, will house 5,000 people.
Large compact structures and solar greenhouses will occupy
25 acres of a 4,060-acre preserve, keeping the countryside
in proximity to urban dwellers. Arcosanti is designed according
to arcology (architecture + ecology): In an arcology, the
built and the living environments interact as organs would
in a highly evolved being. Whether evolved beings will live
like this depends, perhaps, on your prognosis - and the availability
of low-priced fuel.
You Can Go, Downtown . . . Please
While the cities were encroaching on the mountains and Soleri
was building in the mountains, no one was approaching the
downtowns. Everyone was going uptown and midtown - and to
Metro Center. The largest mall in the Southwest, the first
regional mall in Arizona, Metro Center, opened in 1973 on
312 acres with parking for 7,600 cars. Other firsts: Developed
by forward-thinking Westcor Partners and designed by Fairburn
Associates, Metro Center was the first mall in the country
with five anchor stores and the first two-story enclosed mall.
Westcor knew that enclosed shopping malls would become the
cloneable downtowns of the contemporary Southwest city. Malls
would provide all the traditional downtown benefits: retail,
dining, pedestrian-friendly areas, family events - but with
the benefit of climate control (after all, five months of
the year desert temperatures exceed 100 degrees), lots of
parking, and relative safety.
While Metro Center became the core of northwest Phoenix,
malls elsewhere anchored other urban villages such as Paradise
Valley Mall, a Westcor project that opened in 1979 in northeast
Phoenix. Also in 1979, the 1.06 million-square-foot Fiesta
Mall in Mesa opened, with four department stores, 145 specialty
stores, and 25 restaurants and eateries. The value of the
surrounding land in the quiet once-farming community quickly
exploded: Hotels went up as well as office buildings, retail
businesses, apartment complexes, and homes. All this was positive
for Mesa - with the exception of making its already foundering
downtown sink deeper. With some signs of resurrection, it's
still struggling today.
Downtowns Harken to Petula's Song
Tucson was tearing down its downtown in the early '70s, then
beginning to rebuild it in the later '70s. The Tucson Community
Center went up, the La Placita shopping and office complex,
the Tucson Museum of Art, and other buildings. Up north, Phoenix
was also trying to mold its downtown into a focal place for
tourists' and residents' dollars. Leading this were a series
of developments including the state's still-tallest building,
the 40-story Valley National Bank Center (1972), with a shopping
and restaurant plaza below-ground (This is now the Bank One
Center.). In addition, in 1972, the Phoenix Civic Plaza opened
- to lure convention dollars, yens, francs, and marks. To
support this center (and to keep the bed and food money in
Phoenix) the third Hotel Adams opened in 1975 (now the Crowne
Plaza) as well as the 26-floor Hyatt Regency in 1976 (with
an elevator on the outside and a circulating restaurant on
the topside). In 1974, Patriots Square debuted, providing
a plaza-like setting in the Spanish tradition - a re-affirmation
that downtowns must be people places.
Fortunately, Phoenicians finally noticed that they were building
everywhere and getting nowhere quickly in the '70s. On Nov.
5, 1972, they voted to build the Inner Loop - the east-west
Papago Freeway connecting Black Canyon Freeway, Interstate
17, to the proposed Squaw Peak Freeway, which would become
a north-south link (now SR 51). The freeway, which would eventually
include the state's longest tunnel, was essential to getting
people to and from a downtown that everyone agreed needed
redevelopment. By 1980, Phoenix had 32 miles of freeway -
including the Superstition Freeway, now U.S. 60, to Dobson
Road in Mesa (July 1977).
Developments Develop
Nearby, McCormick Ranch became Scottsdale's first master-planned
community (1970), establishing a pattern for the city's northerly
push. The following year, Ahwatukee began in Phoenix as well
as, in Tempe, the Lakes, in which manmade lakes figure as
the primary design element for the first time in Arizona,
and Sun Lakes, south of Chandler. In 1973, Dobson Ranch, also
with lakes, began selling homes in Mesa: By 1990, more than
10,000 people lived in the city's first master-planned community.
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