Part 2 / The Speculators
Copyright ©
1998 The Seattle Times Company
Posted at 08:42 a.m. PDT; Monday, September 28, 1998
Even the man who profited agrees: 'The taxpayers got screwed here'
MANASSAS BATTLEFIELD PARK, Va. - Don't get him wrong: Til Hazel is not saying he regrets making a 1,000 percent profit on a real-estate deal.
But even he's a bit disgusted at his own good fortune, because it was the federal government and, therefore, the people who paid him nearly $120 million for a piece of land near a Civil War battlefield - land he had bought two years earlier for only $11 million.
"The taxpayers got screwed here, that's for sure," drawls the 67-year-old Virginia shopping-mall developer. "They got screwed because politicians didn't have the courage to stand up to the hype of a shrill band of preservationists and environmentalists. They never do anymore."
This wasn't a federal land trade, but it was an example of how speculators can capitalize on the public's desire for land preservation.
It happened in 1988. Two years earlier, Hazel had bought 550 acres adjacent to the site of one of the key battles of the Civil War, the Second Battle of Manassas, in which Confederate Gen. Robert E. Lee defeated Union forces in August 1862.
Because Congress and local governments already had decided to exclude his property from the boundaries of an historical park, Hazel opted to build a mall and a 500-home subdivision.
History buffs went berserk. Lee's battle headquarters had been situated on a hill near where the mall would be built. A preservation group pleaded with Congress and the administration of then-President Reagan to buy the land and add it to the park.
The government refused, saying it was a waste of money because the land had little historical value. No fighting took place there, and there were no Civil War-era buildings still standing.
The preservation group launched a national save-the-battlefield drive with a public-relations campaign aimed at "everyone in the United States who cares about history."
Then Hazel fired up his bulldozers. At first, it was out of a genuine push to build the development, he says. But then, he admits, he realized speedy work by the construction crews might ratchet up the political pressure. He punched in a road, paved it, then added sewer lines and three model homes.
The bulldozers were working full speed the day a group of senators drove 30 miles out from the Capitol to view the land.
"The television cameras were humming, the bulldozers were running and the citizens were screaming," Hazel says today. "It was all hype and emotion. It was really working to my advantage."
Congress responded with unusual speed. Using an obscure technique called a "legislative taking," the Senate agreed to essentially condemn the land, convert it to an historical park and pay Hazel an amount to be worked out later in federal court.
A series of settlements ending in 1990 found the land was worth about $107 million because it had been rezoned from farmland to commercial, then subdivided and partially improved. Hazel was also paid $13.3 million in interest - more than he had paid for the land.
Advocates say it was worth it. But the National Park Service is struggling to meld its $120 million acquisition into the overall park. It has owned it for nearly 10 years, but there's not much there for a visitor. A sign describes Lee's headquarters for the battle. And there's a Civil War-era cannon, though a park ranger said it's only a "prop" that isn't historically accurate.
The most visible historical remnants are what's left of Hazel's subdivision - a paved road ending in the middle of a field, some piles of dirt, a jumble of concrete pipes.
Hazel insists he is not an eco-extortionist.
"I had every intention of building a shopping mall," he said. "The last thing I wanted to do was get in that uproar. But, looking back, I can't say that it hurt me."
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