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." 
