Activists Mourn The End Of Mckay -- Apartments Razed; Deal Termed `Sad Victory'
The McKay Apartments building, the object of a two-year battle among housing activists, the city and the Washington State Convention and Trade Center, was demolished yesterday.
About 75 demonstrators gathered to mourn its passing and to celebrate protesters' victory in getting a promise of low-income housing to replace that lost with the McKay.
``It's a very, very sad victory,'' said Ginger Segal, a member of Operation Homestead, which fought the demolition. ``It's a sad day when a building is torn down for no reason except that conventioneers don't want to walk past people of a class other than their own.''
The 73-unit McKay, at Seventh Avenue and Pike Street, just west of the convention center, was vacated by the last of its tenants in 1987. The convention center had acquired the property with an eye to expanding, though it now appears the property may be used for landscaping and may eventually be used for parking.
Housing activists had opposed the demolition, which they said violated the city's own laws on the preservation of low-income housing. Twice last year, protesters were arrested while trying to occupy the building.
In voting to allow the convention center to demolish the McKay, the City Council believed the center had fulfilled its obligation to replace the housing that was lost with the McKay. The convention center paid about $750,000 for replacement housing at several sites.
But housing advocates argued that wasn't enough, and pushed to secure money for replacement housing - apartments that would rent for no more than $200 a month.
As recently as two weeks ago, the Seattle Displacement Coalition had criticized a state proposal to spend $800,000 on replacement housing because it came without a promise that the money would serve very low-income people. Having gotten such a promise from Jim Ellis, chairman of the convention-center board, and the city's plan to match the state appropriation, the demonstrators yesterday had something to celebrate.
Sean Eastman, who like the others carried a sign of protest on the steps of the convention center and placed flowers in the chain-link fence surrounding the McKay, wasn't sure the McKay agreement represented a victory.
Eastman, 31, slept on the steps of the McKay for two months last summer, as part of the protest against its demolition. He had already been homeless for about two months.
``There are so many people out here (on the streets) for everyday reasons,'' things that could happen to anyone, he said.
``I have a complete lack of faith in what they're going to do for any of us,'' said Eastman, who now works in a shelter and who found a place to live about a month ago.
Scott Morrow, of Operation Homestead, said the McKay demonstrations were a lesson in protest. Going through the proper city channels to get help for the McKay tenants did little good, said Morrow, whose message, even through a bullhorn, was drowned out several times by the din of the wrecking crews.
``Only when we took direct action did something start happening at the McKay,'' he said.
He said the work done at the McKay, which brought together housing activists, the homeless and church leaders, was only a beginning.
``You can blow out the candle, but you can't stop the fire. . . . We've started something here. We need to keep working together to get more victories,'' he said.
A banner hung with a black wreath before the McKay expressed a similar sentiment:
``The rejected stone shall be the cornerstone from which we will build.''