I left work early on January 15, determined to catch the Community Development Department offices off Olive St. before closing. I got there at 4:59 pm—one minute to spare. And… the door was locked.

I could see lights on inside, so I pulled out my phone to call the office. Before I even dialed, a young man walked out—and I seized my chance to slip inside before the door shut again. He noticed me and asked if he could help. I explained that I was waiting on a very important application decision, due that day, that still hadn’t been uploaded.

As it turned out, we had emailed back and forth about this and other projects before, knowing each other by name, but having never met in person. He seemed sympathetic—but explained he couldn’t help until tomorrow. The planner was the only person authorized to upload the decision, and they’d already left for the day. Oh, and the walk-in counter hours? Wednesdays ended at 4 pm. Tuesdays and Thursdays closed at 1 pm. (Apparently there are no normal 5pm counter closing hours-only early and earlier ones).

Not one to give up, I realized the planner was scheduled to run the Historic Preservation Advisory Board meeting that very night at 6 pm. I raced over to City Hall, hoping for some breakthrough. Sure enough, there was the planner—but when I asked, I was told I still couldn’t have the decision. The applicant hadn’t been notified. “Try tomorrow,” I was told.

After months of organizing for a hard-fought project denial last year, and a flurry of intense work through December, on January 16, our community learned that Guthrie Version 2 had been approved by city staff—without reclaim by the commission, without a public hearing, and without applying the two-year demolition stay.

It was chilling. Surreal. A cold, bureaucratic way to start the New Year. The commission’s choice to hand the decision to an administrative process over the holidays felt indifferent, even dismissive.

Once again, we had to set aside the warmth of family and a season of celebration to strategize next steps to protect our homes and our neighborhood. But we did it together, and that made all the difference.

My neighbor Christy Stillwell and I spoke with reporter Edgar Cedillo to share the news and how our neighborhood was reacting.