Pizzuti ‘Whale’ Development Shows Just How Complicated Growth Can Be
In the scheme of recent protests, the ones over the proposed redevelopment of a former Giant Eagle site near German Village earlier this year were almost comical: One resident carried an inflatable killer whale in protest of the “whale” of a development. People wore whale masks and whale hats. A woman dressed in a onesie designed to make her look like a killer whale.
Their cause: blocking, or at least substantially changing, plans for a new apartment complex on the 2.3 acre site of the now-vacant grocery store on East Whittier Street in Schumacher Place. The developer is the well-respected Pizzuti Cos. It’s built some of the city’s most prestigious high-rises, including the Miranova office and condo complex near the Scioto Mile and Le Méridien Columbus, The Joseph in the Short North— gleaming buildings that city leaders say have added value to the surrounding neighborhoods. If Pizzuti couldn’t develop the site appropriately, who could?
But many of the people who lived near the former Giant Eagle had concerns: They didn’t want a big shiny apartment complex dropped in the middle of their community; they worried about traffic, a sharp increase in population, the way the building might affect their property values.
“It’s not that we didn’t want it developed,” says Brenda Gischel, president of the Schumacher Place Civic Association and a founder of the group Neighborhoods for Responsible Development, which has opposed Pizzuti’s plans for the East Whittier site. “But we didn’t want a five-story building that stuck out in this neighborhood, and we didn’t want something that isolated the development from our community.”
On the surface, this might seem like a classic NIMBY—“not in my backyard”—concern. But there’s more at stake here than the typical neighborhood squabble. The city’s population is growing, the people moving here have to live somewhere, and there are ample reasons why denser neighborhoods close to the city’s core are better than suburban sprawl. (Consider the frustration of sitting in traffic during your morning or evening commute and add the greenhouse gases and air pollution emitted by all those cars—avoiding those issues are just two of the benefits to concentrating people in the heart of the city.) Most people seem to get that, on a broad, citywide, theoretical level. But it’s different when the new condo or apartment complex is right across the street.
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The tension around the development of 280 E. Whittier St. is an example of the kind of debate that already is playing out in neighborhoods across Columbus—the kind of debate that is only likely to get more contentious as more and more people move to this area. “People talk about how divided we are as a country politically,” says Jon Melchi, executive director of the Building Industry Association of Central Ohio, an organization that advocates for and supports builders. “And I can tell you that the bluest parts of Columbus and the reddest parts of Delaware County all seem to have the same perspective on residential development, which is, ‘I’m in favor of it, just not right there.’”
Ultimately, this is the puzzle every American city needs to solve as it grows: What kind of community do we want to be in 10, 25, 50 years? How will we make sure there’s space for everyone who wants to be here, and how can we make sure each of those people has the best possible chance to thrive? How do we make sure the decision-makers here look out for everyone—even the people who don’t have time to march in the streets or wage letter-writing campaigns or form activist groups on one side or the other? How do we make this an equitable place to live?
What has happened with the redevelopment on East Whittier might offer some clues about how that process will unfold—and shows how important it is that Columbus comes to grips with its population growth and housing issues soon.
The East Whittier Street site was once a Big Bear grocery store. That chain started in Columbus in the 1930s and eventually grew to include 65 locations across Ohio and West Virginia. The Schumacher Place Big Bear opened in 1950. By 2004, though, the company was in trouble, and the store became a Giant Eagle. It was small by grocery store standards, covering about 30,000 square feet, but it was a neighborhood resource.
“People walked there to visit the pharmacy, to get their groceries,” says Gischel, who has lived in Schumacher Place for decades. “It really was a neighborhood store.”
In 2017, Pizzuti bought the site, which included 2.3 acres and the grocery store building, for $5.3 million. At the time, a Pizzuti spokesman said the store would remain, that it was a “privilege” for the Giant Eagle to serve the surrounding community. The site is bounded by Whittier to the south, East Kossuth Street to the north, South Grant Avenue to the east and Jaeger Street to the west. That Jaeger is one of its borders is important: The street is the official line separating Schumacher Place from German Village, where historic designations and a vocal resident base make new development trickier. If the site had been one block to the west, the development Pizzuti is proposing might not have been possible.
Pizzuti began talking publicly about turning the site into an apartment complex in March 2020; in August of that year, Giant Eagle announced it would leave the building. Initial plans included about 330 rental units with 8,000 square feet of retail on the first floor; the development was four stories in some parts and five stories in others. Almost immediately, neighborhood groups, including the German Village Society and the Schumacher Place Civic Association, voiced concerns.
In multiple meetings, hundreds of residents spoke about their fears that the complex would block light to their homes—at four-plus stories, it was taller than the previous grocery store building. Renderings showed a more industrial, modern structure—a departure from the older homes that surround the site. They worried that people parking at the complex would block the roads for trash and recycling trucks and slow existing residents’ travels to and from their homes. The number of residential units proposed for the site is denser than the largely single-family homes in the area.
“We would have supported 45 units per acre, which would have been an increase—there is no housing on the site now, so that would have created some housing,” Gischel says. “And we would have welcomed more retail.”
As of December, the plans include 262 rental units and 9,000 square feet of retail space. Renderings show the building would be four-and-a-half stories at its highest point. Columbus City Council approved the development in July; a group of neighbors appealed that approval to the Franklin County Court of Common Pleas. No decision had been made on that appeal as of press time. (Pizzuti representatives did not respond to multiple requests for comment for this story.)
The site now is barren, except for a sizable hole. Crews tore down the empty grocery store earlier this year; the block is surrounded by chain link fencing. Banners on the fence show images of a four-story brick façade with walk-up stoops and tree-lined sidewalks.
Just across from the site on East Kossuth Street, multiple homeowners have staked signs in their front yards opposing the development. “Tell City Council the Pizzuti Project is TOO BIG!” one proclaims. “Don’t Let This Happen,” another reads, above a picture of a white building towering over homes in the neighborhood.
Every neighborhood might not have protests involving killer whales—not every neighborhood has a resident base with the same time and energy for organizing—but a version of this tug-of-war over development has been going on for years in Columbus. In Olde Towne East, residents have voiced concerns over the height of a proposed four- and five-story apartment complex at the corner of Oak and 18th streets. In the Short North, a proposed apartment complex on West Second Avenue went through a number of iterations based on resident opposition before being scrapped. It was resurrected earlier this year; the Victorian Village Commission ultimately approved plans for a seven-story building, three stories shorter than the original proposal. An apartment complex in Old North on North High Street was scaled back in 2016 after residents complained about the height.
People are moving to Columbus at a rapid pace. The most recent estimates from the U.S. Census Bureau put Columbus’ population at more than 900,000, a 15 percent increase over the last census, in 2010. Columbus is growing at about double the rate of the rest of the country. It’s the fastest-growing city in the Midwest and the 14th-biggest in the country. The Mid-Ohio Regional Planning Commission, which covers…
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