Uncivil War Splits Seward Park Co-op
Every co-op and condo board in the city is in a perpetual hunt for the sweet spot: Low monthly maintenance plus a building that’s healthy fiscally and physically. When the board at the 1,728-unit Seward Park Co-op on the Lower East Side of Manhattan announced on Jan. 28 that they were hiring a valet parking firm to run the co-op’s 388-space garage and parking lot, they were “thrilled” to note that the change would keep parking prices below market rate, shorten the waiting list by increasing the number of spaces, and generate up to $200,000 in additional annual revenue. The board had hit the sweet spot, right?
Dead wrong.
Instead of generating kudos, the 11-member board’s unanimous decision ignited a full-blown civil war inside the co-op. As one outraged shareholder put it, “Grays are now pitted against Blues. We’re up in arms!”
This uncivil war climaxed on Feb. 24, when shareholders packed a large room at the Manny Cantor Center to hear the board explain how and why it had made its decision – and, just as important, why shareholders weren’t informed until it was a done deal.
Here’s how the war escalated:
Stage One: After the Jan. 28 announcement, the lucky shareholders with a parking spots took their outrage to the Seward Park website, “The Daily Digest,” and also bombarded the board with angry emails. Their objections ranged from reasonable to laughable. One comment typified the latter: “Valet parking means cars are parked very closely to each other, the garage attendants climb through car windows to get in and out of the vehicles. This leads to footprints all over car seats and arm rests.” A stressed-out mom wrote: “You want to add yet another thing on my plate when I am trying to get out of my apartment in the morning as I am trying to do 100 other things and get my kids to school on time?”
Even shareholders who don’t own a car were appalled that a major decision was reached without any shareholder input. Others applauded the board’s decision and criticized parking spot holders for their selfishness. They pointed out that the entire co-op is, in fact, subsidizing those coveted below market rate parking spaces.
Stage Two: The opposition got organized, called meetings, circulated petitions, collected signatures. Lawyers were consulted about the possibility of seeking an injunction. Almost all the arguments against the shift to valet parking now portrayed it as an opaque, high-handed decision that tore the community apart. At a raucous meeting of opponents on Feb. 10, a long-time resident and former board member said, “Why is this happening, and why now? Why are they pitting us against each other? It’s divide and conquer, that’s what it is.”
This was greeted with cries of “Kickbacks! Kickbacks!”
Other shareholders dubbed members of the board “arrogant,” “liars,” and worse. Several voiced the suspicion that board members were motivated by their desire to secure parking spots for themselves.
Stage Three: On the day of that raucous meeting, the board distributed a six-page justification for its decision. On Feb. 22 ,the board went even further to rectify its perceived lack of transparency, circulating a detailed, seven-page State of the Coop memorandum, outlining the financial challenges facing the co-op – especially soaring real estate taxes – and the resulting need for new revenue sources if monthly maintenance is to remain at its current low levels. The board noted that in the past six years, real estate taxes have risen by 125 percent (from $5.2 million to $11.7 million annually), while maintenance has risen by 14 percent. The board also noted that the reserve fund has been depleted to help cover operating expenses.
At the packed Feb. 24 meeting, despite some hot tempers and raised voices, many shareholders seemed mollified that the board had acted in good faith and that the revenue generated by valet parking will benefit the entire co-op. Others remained convinced that the board’s deliberations lacked transparency.
The turnout was nearly unprecedented. As the meeting broke up, one former board member remarked that no other issue had generated such passionate response among shareholders since the co-op voted in 2000 to abandon its limited-equity past and allow apartments to be sold at market rates.
Regardless of how this uncivil war ends, it has provided a valuable lesson for all boards. To wit: Good intentions are not enough; shareholders and unit-owners want to be included in major decisions, and they will rebel at any appearance of a lack of transparency.
All boards should take note.
(Marianne Schaefer, a documentary filmmaker, currently sublets an apartment in the Seward Park Co-op.)