Legasus developers have been attracting attention from Jackson County residents for almost two years.
When news of the plans got out in early 2007 — calling for 1,800 lots on 3,500 acres between Tuckasegee and Glenville — Legasus evoked the ire of locals. While Legasus developers pledged to create a high-quality, environmentally-friendly development, locals feared the loss of viewsheds, degradation to water quality and an eroding sense of place from the growth of gated communities.
Residents of Tuckasegee publicly raised concerns about what would happen if the developers got part way into the project only to realize they didn’t have the capital to see it through.
“Two years ago I said, ‘What if the housing bubble bursts?’” recalled Jeanette Cabanis Brewin, a resident in Tuckasegee. “What if they get up there and start ripping the top of the mountain off and they run out of money? What is going to happen to the rest of us?”
That fear has indeed played out in some places.
“Legasus is definitely not alone. There are so many right now that have folded,” said Bryan Tompkins with the U.S. Fish and Wildlife Service in Asheville.
Tompkins has seen developers make an initial foray into development, cutting roads and grading lots, only to find out there isn’t a market for those lots after all.
“When they go bust, they have all these roads cut and they are not there to maintain it,” Tompkins said.
Environmental agencies are left trying to figure out what to do and who is responsible. In Madison County, a development abandoned by its owner needs $750,000 in work to get it back in compliance, Tompkins said. Tompkins wonders if a new owner would be able to take on such a liability.
“Who can do that and what bank is going to give you money to do that?” Tompkins said.
Rumors of Legasus’ plans in early 2007 helped spur the creation of a comprehensive development ordinance in Jackson County. The county adopted some of the most stringent development guidelines in the mountains.
The very development that led to the creation of the ordinances was ultimately grandfathered in, however. Legasus received vested rights, allowing it to proceed with development plans exempt from Jackson County’s new rules.
The vested rights most likely will be passed on to any new owner, according to Michael Egan, an attorney in Hendersonville who advised Jackson County during the creation of its development ordinances.
“It would be my opinion that common law vested rights would run with the land,” Egan said.
Vested rights are intended to protect developers caught mid-stream by new ordinances. Legasus argued they’d already spent a great deal designing a master plan and marketing the development to prospective buyers. If they had to start over again, they would be unable to recoup the investment they already had in it, they argued.
The same still holds true, Egan said. If the vested rights don’t pass to the new owner, it would devalue the selling price of the land, and put Legasus back in the same spot of being unable to recoup its investment, he said.
There is one catch, however. Legasus’ argued that all 3,500 acres were entitled to vested rights, even though development forays were further along on some of its tracts than others. Legasus claimed that the disparate tracts shared a common marketing theme. Residents of each development could use the amenities of the other properties, from a clubhouse at one to the golf course at another.
“If a sale of the property would somehow interfere with that common promotional plan then it is possible it might affect the vested rights,” Egan said.
Vested rights aren’t good forever. In this case, the county granted vested rights for five years.
“The clock is ticking,” said Jeanette Cabanis Brewin, a resident in Tuckasegee who has expressed concerns about the mega development. “They have used up almost two and half years of their five years.”
The economic slump may have given the community a reprieve, said Mary Jo Cobb, a Tuckasegee resident who was opposed to the scale of the development.
Most of all, “I hope this has bought us some more time to step back,” Cobb said. “There is so much interest in our environment now than there ever was before. I think that is good. We need to be aware and preserve these mountains.”
Cobb hopes the foreclosure will sideline Legasus’ plans for a golf course.
“That would be fine with me,” Cobb said.
Indeed, the foreclosure throws the fate of a controversial Phil Mickelson-designed golf course on Legasus’ property into question. A tract currently in foreclosure encompasses some of the land slated for a golf course in Legasus’ original plans.
The buyer of the tract could decide to partner with Legasus, in which case the golf course could still be pursued. If the buyer goes off on their own, Legasus could be forced to redesign the course on a different portion of the property or scale it down.
The golf course has yet to receive its state and federal environmental permits. The Army Corps of Engineers and the N.C. Department of Environment and Natural Resources had several concerns with the original design. Legasus’ application has been on hold until it could address those issues — for nearly 18 months now.
“They have not made any effort to address those concerns,” according to Bryan Tompkins with the U.S. Fish and Wildlife Service.
Legasus has lined up a biologist to conduct a bat survey of old mine caves on the property in the fall, but that has been the only movement Tompkins knows of.
Thompkins said it was abnormal to go so long without hearing from Legasus. Tompkins monitors environmental permits from developers all over Western North Carolina and often has to send them back to the drawing board.
“When things were going like gangbusters we would have gotten a response a month later,” Tompkins said of typical developers. “They would turn around with a response on a dime to speed up the permitting process so they could get on with their project.”
The recent news that part of the property is in foreclosure could explain Legasus’ silence, Tompkins said.