King-Size Change On Queen Anne -- Transformation Of Staid Queen Anne To Bustling Boulevard Leaves Some Longtime Residents Hoping For End To The Trend

Making the steep drive up Queen Anne Avenue North, one is struck not so much by the grinding of car gears or shortness of breath at such high altitudes, but by the Oz-like face looming at the top of the hill - Steve Hicks, realtor extraordinaire, whose billboard boasts that he sells "a Queen Anne home every 10 days."

So it goes atop Queen Anne Hill, bustle, bustle, new folks arriving each week. But what's that? Beneath Hicks' Cheshire-cat grin, there are also signs of discontent in this oldish, affluent neighborhood where, to many, change is about as welcome as a burglar in the night.

Well over a dozen new shops and restaurants have suddenly appeared, replacing old and popular standbys, and there, as they say, goes the neighborhood.

True, growth has touched other Seattle neighborhoods in hiccups here and there - but not as rapidly as the overhaul atop the hill.

Only two years ago, Queen Anne Avenue North was a quiet, even frumpy strip of commerce similar to the kind still found in parts of West Seattle. But a combination of changing demographics, soaring real-estate prices and savvy business ventures have transformed the avenue into a trendy boulevard with enough bagel shops to make the Pillsbury Doughboy dance.

"It's aggressive change," says Ray Bowman, president of the Queen Anne Chamber of Commerce. "But without good planning and communication, you will get ill will, you will get misunderstandings, . . . you will get Beirut in the streets!"

Yes, it's come to that on the avenue where a Tully's Coffee has replaced the popular Salladay's drugstore, and Starbucks has arisen across the street, replacing the liquor store. Just how much coffee can people drink, anyway?

This being Seattle, that's probably a stupid question. Yet it resonates across Queen Anne, a community that got its name from the Queen Anne style of architecture, an elegant combination of gables and turrets.

Some longtime residents are pained by the change and have directed their ire at one establishment in particular, the Paragon Bar & Grill. Though upscale, it's also the biggest, loudest bar to set a shot glass in front of customers since loggers sheared the hilltop of prime Douglas fir and rolled the logs into Elliott Bay. The Paragon's long lines and boozy atmosphere have made it a lightning rod for discontent.

Not only did it replace a crusty hobby shop that symbolized the Queen Anne of old, but the Paragon parties on until 2 a.m. That is upsetting to people who live on the same block near Queen Anne Avenue North and Boston Street. Unfortunately for them, the business strip is only a half-block deep - houses abut the backs of businesses and, where the Paragon is concerned, things definitely go thump in the night.

Rhythm-and-blues bands are regularly featured, and patrons have been known to let the music move them.

"A loud, exuberant voice carries a lot in the night," says Jeanie Ogden, a 17-year resident who lives in the block behind the Paragon. "People park in front of my house and make all kinds of noise. There's litter, vomit and people urinating on private property. I'm very angry about them in our neighborhood."

Paragon officials get a little defensive about all this. They note that other Queen Anne residents are glad to have night life on the hill, and appreciate the club's community contributions, including donations to the Queen Anne Helpline.

"To point the finger at us and say we're the bad, evil guys isn't fair," says Jon Swanson, a Paragon investor. "Everyone needs to recognize the fact that Queen Anne has changed; it's not the Paragon that's caused it." But the Paragon's arrival did mark a turning point. Even Swanson admits people thought he was crazy to put a clublike restaurant atop Queen Anne last year.

"At 9 on a Friday night, it was abandoned up here," he says.

Now, it's hard to find a parking spot, night or day. In addition to the Paragon, there's a new Cucina Presto cafe, a Pasta & Co., a Todo Wraps, a Noah's New York Bagels, an Orrapin Thai Cuisine, the Chinoise Cafe, and All the Best Pet Care, featuring turkey bonbons and other gourmet foods for the pet in your life.

Several blocks south at the 7-Eleven, talk is glum among seniors who meet daily to check winning Lotto numbers.

The Hill is not The Hill anymore, they tell clerk Vikram Shah, who nods sympathetically and suggests they have another doughnut.

They've been meeting here for years, after the early-morning stockbroker/banking crowd stops for coffee and cigarettes, and before the afternoon rush of kids on their way home from nearby St. Anne's School.

"It's like a club," Shah says of the seniors, who are most affected by the rapid changes on Queen Anne, where the ever-rising cost of real estate only drives their property taxes higher.

Last weekend, for example, a home sold for $795,000 the instant it went on the market, said Windermere agent Donna Moriarty. A year ago, it probably would have gone for $100,000 less than that.

Queen Anne has always been a spendy place to live, with its high concentration of lawyers and other professionals, but the latest wave of hilltop newcomers makes for even more powerful demographics. Realtor Hicks, also with Windermere, says he's seen a big jump in sales to people from the Midwest, the East Coast and the Gold Coast - also known as Microsoft.

"They're a big extra increment in the marketplace now," he says of the youthful techies who are paying between $300,000 and $400,000 for grand, old Queen Anne homes. "The whole hill is in high demand."

That certainly explains the smile on his billboard mug. And there are some who echo his enthusiasm.

"I like the changes, I think they're good," says C.C. Conklin, who's lived on Queen Anne Hill for 16 years.

And besides, what's a little more traffic, a little more noise, when you consider what's to come?

Sitting in the not-new (but newly expanded) Queen Anne Cafe, community historian Bob Frazier adds this perspective to the debate.

"When I look back 100 years and try to look forward 100 years," he says slowly and deliberately, as if fearing someone might smash a cream pie in his face for what he's about to say, "I expect this area to look like downtown Seattle now does. Lacking wars or plagues, I think future growth is inevitable."