Richard Lehman, a 73-year-old former soldier, bartender, and
ironworker, is standing in front of a looming two-story house in
Madison Park—an enormous, black-shingled box that creeps up on
the sidewalk. The big black box is part of a new wave of development
that could change the character of Lehman’s
neighborhood.
As developers tear down single-family homes in other Seattle
neighborhoods to build town houses and increase density, one developer
in Madison Park is taking the opposite approach. Seattle-based Blueline
Developers has bought up about a dozen cottages in tony Madison Park,
tearing them down to the studs and replacing them with
multimillion-dollar megahouses.
Lehman—who lives in the same modest Craftsman house that his
grandfather built in 1926—remembers the neighborhood when its
streets were still lined with beached houseboats. Since the Madison
Park–to-Kirkland ferry disappeared in 1950, taking the
neighborhood’s blue-collar workers with it, Lehman has seen Madison
Park metamorphose into a yuppie enclave. But Lehman’s distaste for
Blueline’s houses isn’t NIMBYism. While walking through Madison Park,
Lehman points out a number of new or recently remodeled homes he
believes are a better fit for his neighborhood of modest brick, stucco,
and Craftsman homes.
Blueline’s megahouses are easy to pick out. In some cases, the
houses are built right up to the property line, towering over
neighboring homes. Inside, Blueline’s houses offer five bedrooms, three
or more bathrooms, and amenities such as theaters with 106-inch plasma
screens, wine cellars that can hold up to 5,000 bottles, and patios the
size of one-bedroom apartments.
Lehman says that while some neighbors are happy to gripe about the
changing and increasingly opulent face of the neighborhood, no one
wants to take the developer on.
Even if Madison Park residents wanted to do something about the
megahomes, they’d be out of luck. According to the Department of
Planning and Development, Blueline’s projects are allowed under the
city’s development code.
While Lehman believes Blueline’s projects are eyesores, they’re not
unpopular with everyone in the neighborhood.
Madison Park resident and community activist Jim Hagen says he
doesn’t have a problem with the way Blueline’s developments look. The
houses, he says, are “obviously bigger, and in some cases bulkier, but
it doesn’t look totally out of character [for the neighborhood].”
However, Hagen says he’s sad to see the old houseboats around Madison
Park get torn down. And he thinks Blueline’s megahouses contradict the
city’s push for density and affordability. “[When] you’re getting rid
of a house that’s a half million dollars and [instead of condos or town
houses] putting up housing that’s a million and a half dollars, it’s
going to make it harder” to increase density, he says.
A representative for Blueline is disarmingly upfront about some of
the reactions to its Madison Park developments. “We know we’re going to
tick some [people] off. We can’t please everybody,” says Blueline
office manager Ruby Philippa, who says she has fielded phone calls from
angry Madison Park residents. “But we try our best to maintain the
status quo in the neighborhood.” Philippa says one of the principals in
the three-year-old company lives in Madison Park and “is very much a
part of the neighborhood and knows what the neighborhood is
becoming.”
Apparently, Madison Park is only getting richer. Philippa says
Blueline’s homes sell for between $1.25 million and $2.7 million, and
while the rest of the housing market has taken a dive, the dozen
rebuilds Blueline has done—all in Madison Park—usually sell
before they even go on the market. “The housing market is in flux for
people like you and me,” Philippa says. “But the people [who are buying
these houses] don’t feel the same kind of pinch the rest of us
feel.”
Lehman says he’s received offers for his house but plans to stay,
even if Blueline’s presence continues to grow. “I’m not selling my
place,” he says. “I’d be selling my neighborhood.” 
