I live in an old house on the north side of Bozeman, and this winter I find myself in a bit of pickle.

Six weeks ago, I decided to rearrange the furniture in the basement and discovered dampness in one corner. Bad news. Mold. Carpet had to go. We quickly realized we were facing a full remodel in that room. The uncertainty surrounding us in our neighborhood suddenly took on new meaning. Why invest thousands in our home if a high-rise is going in next door?

I don’t like viewing it as an investment. Yet, because developers are using my neighborhood as part of a profit model, I must too.

My house is kitty-corner from the proposed Guthrie, a contentious HomeBase high-rise. This project was denied by city commissioners last summer but has now come back to haunt us. The new application went from 111 to 91 units. It uses the deep incentives of the Affordable Housing Ordinance (AHO) to offer only 28 parking spaces. Half of the units will be offered at 80% AMI, a number I don’t think can be called “affordable.” In short, the project still doesn’t belong on that corner in this neighborhood. It needs to be denied again.

Quick history lesson: I live inside the Neighborhood Conservation Overlay District (NCOD). My house is zoned R3, as are most in my block. In order to build the Guthrie, the city will have to approve the demolition of the now vacant care center built in 1958. According to Jim Spady’s letter to the editor (12-18-24), the care home was named for his mother, Florence, who was once caretaker to Rose Hogan Story, daughter of Nelson. Spady’s family built their first home on the corner of North 5th and Beall, back when Durston was a dirt road. My house was wildland.

HomeBase Partners proposes demolishing the care center to build this apartment complex. Though the AHO is under review by city staff, HomeBase is pushing this building for approval before revisions are complete. This isn’t fair.

Last June, over two hundred letters were sent to city commissioners protesting the Guthrie’s original application. These included recommendations from the Historic Preservation Advisory Board and the Inter Neighborhood Council. City commissioners made history, voting to deny the Guthrie due to issues with appropriateness, especially of mass and scale.

The developer filed suit against the city, saying the language of the code allowed commissioners to “cherry pick” complaints. I’d argue that the language of city code is intended to allow commissioners to do their job: vote against development projects within the NCOD. Said another way, the NCOD was created to protect core neighborhoods from just this sort of exploitation.

The building most appropriate for that corner is the building that is already there. Repurposing the building, perhaps to create a new care center, would fit the neighborhood. It would be a terrific downtown amenity. If the developer can’t make that pencil out, his team could design something that fits the same footprint, including height. This would mean fewer units. Less money. Perhaps “appropriate for the neighborhood” means less profit.

Another home across the street from mine, 314 W Villard, is slated for demolition to make way for three Scandinavian-style units called “The Layercake Townhomes.” One can only imagine the price for one of these. This project has been internally approved by city staff.

Which brings me back to the mold in my basement. I’m not the first downtown homeowner to face the question of how much to invest in a neighborhood on the verge of—well, we don’t know what. That’s the problem. In land use parlance, I think what the Midtown neighborhood wants is “predictability.” Obviously, change is inevitable, and no one can predict the future. But development can be limited. A city’s elected officials set boundaries on developers. I thought that was how this was supposed to work.

One thing is for certain: if the Guthrie goes in, the neighborhood will see more traffic, noise, light pollution, and just general activity. Does this mean an increase or a decrease in property values? Real estate professionals say it depends on who rents the units. And let me go ahead and throw the inevitable NIMBY stance at myself: boo-hoo. Quit crying. At least you own something, which is more than many can say.

Maybe property value is the wrong question to be asking. The more pointed question for Midtown is: do these developments create a neighborhood in which we want to live? Overwhelmingly, the answer is, no, they do not. And thus begins the neighborhood turnover that so quickly leads to a tourist-based, wealth-infused vacation town none of us will want to call home.

I love this neighborhood. Before we lived on this corner, we were on North Grand. From there we watched the Olive and Black drama play out. We were part of a neighborhood group that tried to stop the zoning change on the Medical Arts Building parking lot. “Calm down,” we were told. “It’s just a zoning change. No project in the works.” Yet now we have The Ives. For two years we’ve lived with the construction of yet another HomeBase high-rise.

I want the city commissioners to take back authority on the Guthrie. Again. I don’t think the deep incentives of the AHO should override the conservation overlay district—certainly not with the AHO under revision.

I’ll say again, I love this neighborhood. I love my house. And as bad as the odds look for downtown Bozeman, I have hope. I believe regular people living ordinary lives can affect real change if we work together and hold city officials accountable. Real estate investment companies are going to try to profit from our city; this is a popular place to be. This is why we need commissioners to reclaim authority on downtown core projects. They must use their authority to enforce protections like the NCOD, and the criteria of appropriateness. These are boundaries that are meant to control growth. We have the codes we need. Commissioners must find the courage to use them. 

Christy Stillwell has lived in Bozeman since 2000. A mother, she works as a writer, teacher and editor. Her first novel, The Wolf Tone, was published in 2019. Recent short fiction can be found online at DoesIthavePockets, BrilliantFlashFiction, Pithead Chapel and New Flash Fiction Review.