The idea of incorporating green space in development is a
relatively new idea in Western New York. Most developers still
engage in a practice they euphemistically call 'maximizing the
site." Roughly translated this means, "How do I make the most
money from my land!"
Generally, developers start with a survey of the property
(sometimes they don't even visit the site). Then they draw in as
many lots, homes, or buildings as is legally permissible. Working
always with the concept of maximum density, they project
profits, thus determining the viability of a project.
Rarely do developers think of the land they will use and
often abuse. Usually, they do not see their land as a living forest
or as wondrous nature - they see it as potential dollars in the
bank. This, unfortunately, is the mentality that has contributed
to the deforestation of most of our urban and suburban commu-
nities. It's the old school of greed and personal gain, of me first.
The sooner it passes into oblivion, the better for all of us,
especially for our children.
I found it impossible to develop my property this way. I had
too much respect for the land, too much awesome fear and
regard, love, if you will, for nature, to ever take a whole piece of
land and destroy it. I would rather forgo profit.
In a sense, you might say, I went about developing all
backwards. I put the land first — how to preserve the integrity of
it, as if the land had priority, as if it were a living essence, as, of
course, it most certainly is. Secondly, within that context, I
concerned myself with making a profit. By common definition,
I never maximized my sites.
Yet, I feel, I am not unique. There are many like-minded
people who would do the same thing. Unfortunately, very few
become developers. But as our race evolves, and long before it is
too late, the old idea of site maximization will die. It will die soon
and hard, I believe. Our generation, the new generation, will
demand it And in place of the last few generations of developers
who grew up with the sensibility that profit drives all will come
a new type of developer who will care about the land and see
development as beneficent only to the extent that it conforms
with the concept of man living in harmony with nature. (It's not
the older generation's fault — it was the sensibility of the era.)
These "new age" developers will reap a reward far greater
than just profit. They will pass on to successive generations a
legacy of hope.
So how to do it?
Let me use Hidden Hollow, a subdivision I developed in
Hamburg, as an example. I had 45 acres of land (all of it zoned
by the town for development). Fifteen acres were young woods,
and 30 acres were old. I did not touch the old woods. I couldn't.
It was the last old forest area in the-neighborhood - the last
chance for the neighborhood children to play in the woods.
(Granted some of the old woods are wetlands, but much of it is
not. And by he way, many developers go through elaborate legal
and bureaucratic procedures, or, if you will, loopholes, to prove
that land that they know for a fact is wetlands is "legally" not.
A whole new cottage industry has sprung up in the last few years,
of "environmental" firms and lawyers, who make sizeable
profits by legally making wetlands available for developers).
I decided, however, to make the old woods a permanent
wildlife sanctuary (I protected it from future development by
deed restrictions that are not subject to amendment) and devel-
oped residential building lots only in the younger woods, and
even there with a minimum of tree loss.
To maximize tree preservation in the younger woods, I did
something that no one in the area had ever done before in a
subdivision of this size. I hand cleared the lots (with laborers with
machetes and chain saws to clear the underbrush) at a cost of over
$60,000. (A typical old school developer would use a bulldozer
and clear the land at a cost of about $3,000.)
The net result was that the lots are treed with beautiful 30-
to 40-year-old maples and pines, carefully, pruned and pre-
served, and the lots back up to the older forest, which gives each
one privacy and grants, I think, a rather spectacular view. There
are no backyard neighbors in Hidden Hollow - just man and
nature.
But the truly wonderful and surprising thing is, although
I may not have had as many lots as I could have had, the lots sold
extremely well, and, consequently, I made a profit
More importantly, long after I'm gone, when money is
less in value than dust to me, there will still be a wildlife preserve
for future generations to enjoy.
By my definition, that's what I would call "maximizing the
site.
