THE FRED COLUMN

As my friend Jimmy Durante often said, “I’m surrounded by

assassins.”

From “da boids in da trees” to the never-revealed Umbriago, it seemed

somebody was always picking on “Da Schnoz.”

Jimmy would certainly empathize with the people of Newport-Mesa.

From the beginning of life as we know it, the region has been under

siege, fair game for tap-dancers with big ideas and a bankroll.

With few exceptions, residents have always banded together to protect

their quality of life. Most of the time, these volunteers have been able

to beat developers at their own game. At worst, they succeeded in

diminishing what could have been dreadful assaults on the environment and

the natural beauty of the area.

When our family moved to Balboa from Los Angeles in 1963, the hot idea

was to plant a forest of very high-rises up and down the Peninsula.

Condos, co-ops, hotels, apartments, it didn’t matter. “Why, this’ll make

Miami Beach look like chump change,” the would-be developers boasted.

Fortunately, the citizens fought back, as they have every time an

overambitious development or other user-unfriendly scheme has threatened

the quality of life in Newport-Mesa. And they won.

Not too long after those who would have Trumpified the Peninsula were

beaten back, Caltrans tried to put a freeway down Coast Highway: Locals

shooed those varmints away, too.

Though defeated on the PCH plan, the state agency still extracted half a

pound of flesh some years later when it brought the a freeway to an

abrupt stop in downtown Costa Mesa.

It was supposed to have linked up with the Coast Highway freeway in a

splendid cloverleaf where the new Arches bridge was abuilding for what

seems like 20 years.

It was the freeway to nowhere, and as a sort of farewell gotcha, Caltrans

ended the turnpike at 19th Street, creating one of the finest, most

reliable ongoing traffic jams in the nation. Worse yet, the Costa Mesa

Freeway was a death sentence for about a dozen small businesses.

When Pacific View Memorial Park was taken over by a billion-dollar

Texas-based company, residents had to go to war again. This time, it was

to battle a hush-hush plan to allow new, high-rise mausoleums to flourish

in a landscape of well-clipped lawns with flat headstones. Once again, a

posse was formed.

The result was neither a victory nor a loss for either side. But had it

not been for the residents’ determination in fighting a huge

conglomerate, today’s Pacific View would be looking like a Wilshire

Boulevard for the dead.

Two of the more calamitous assaults on community sensibilities and

quality of life were focused in and around the Back Bay. You remember the

Irvine Ranch Water District, eh? And its plan to infuse the bay with more

than 5 million gallons of treated sewage a day?

When that hassle began, Newport Beach citizens didn’t just have to fight

the IRWD, they had to battle their own city council to convince their

elected rulers and hired hands to join the fray.

Now, some five years later, the IRWD nightmare bounces in and out of

courts and state governing boards and may still be going on when we

colonize Mars. These civic warriors don’t give up easily.

The other Back Bay transgressor was the Fletcher Jones Mercedes

dealership -- specifically its hundreds of powerful lights refracting

among the mirror-like surfaces of glass, metal and marble.

Once again, citizens pulled together and did what they had to do. And

once again, a compromise and an armistice were reached.

But. unquestionably, the biggest fight in the area’s history was against

the airport.

When the local airfield appeared destined to become Orange County

International, coalitions formed and factions that often bickered pulled

together.

The result was a court-sanctioned agreement that limited flights and

noise. Need I mention that the gladiators from the old conflict are back

in armor, fighting again to preserve quality of life?

Those who aren’t directly involved in the battle to convert El Toro are

sighing and wondering if there is a threat to residents in the massive

new hotel project planned for Newport Dunes.

Still others are sharpening their strategies to deal with the proposed

development of Crystal Cove, the recurring push for a bridge to

Huntington Beach, the expansion of traffic phasing ordinances and on and

on and on.

Protecting paradise around here is virtually a full-time job. And it is

certainly not one for the faint of heart.

* FRED MARTIN is a former Newport Beach resident who now writes from his

new home in Fort Collins, Colo. His column appears on Wednesdays.