By Sandhya Somashekharand Amy Gardner
The Washington Post
Fairfax County has long been viewed as the ultimate burb, where Washington goes to walk the dog and water the lawn. But the more residents look around, the more they see what many have tried to avoid: high-rise offices, blight, crime and housing that's more likely to have a balcony than a backyard.
That changing reality came into focus last week when County Executive Anthony H. Griffin raised the possibility of officially making Fairfax a city, prompting discussion among county supervisors about whether the community of more than 1 million residents should highlight its status as an enormous jobs center that is rapidly urbanizing or embrace its classic suburban nature.
The basis for the idea is largely tactical - under state law, cities have more taxing power and greater control over roads than counties do - and it led to more than a few snickers about the thrilling nightlife in downtown Fairfax (punch line: there isn't any).
Regardless of whether the county changes its status, a process that requires approval from voters, the state and courts, the discussion underscored a growing tension within Virginia's largest jurisdiction. What does Fairfax want to be? A giant urban expanse like many new Sun Belt cities? Or more of a residential suburb, with a handful of urbanized pockets sprinkled in?
The Fairfax of today is somewhere in between. Its 400 square miles include a sea of cul-de-sacs, parks, pools and soccer fields, especially in its southern and western stretches. McLean and Great Falls remain high-end havens for some of the region's most exclusive addresses. Clifton still feels like the country.
Meanwhile, dense, Arlington County -style urban villages are quickly claiming the skylines of Vienna, Merrifield and Springfield, and county plans envision those and other developments ballooning over the next decade. Tysons Corner is already an economic and commercial behemoth, and it's only going to get bigger as development clusters around the Metrorail extension. The Route 1 corridor and other pockets are increasingly marked by blight.
On an uncrowded weekday afternoon at Old Keene Mill Swim and Racquet Club in Burke last week, Fairfax's still-shining suburban glory was on display. A gaggle of children with rackets under their arms ran up a hill to tennis courts. A mother coated her daughter with sunscreen by the pool, where a few dozen kids splashed and adults sat under giant umbrellas. Another mother walked from her car with packets of hot dogs and buns toward the club's grills and picnic tables.
'I personally would hate to see any more of a city feel to Fairfax County,' Nancy Ohanian, 52, said with her 9-year-old daughter. 'We're losing so many trees. And I sure don't want to see my taxes go any higher.'
For these families, Burke is their corner of suburban bliss, a community so complete that they rarely venture more than a mile or two beyond their homes.
'It had all the ingredients that I wanted for my family,' said Mary Holden, 46, a mother of four. 'My kids' schools, their sports teams, their friends, the shopping - it's all here. I can go a whole week not ever leaving Burke, quite happy.'
Holden and others probably would be quite unhappy if they ventured about 10 miles north to Merrifield. There, two sleek new five-story apartment buildings rise from a weedy parking lot. The bottom floor of one building is taken up by restaurants, a jewelry store and a tailor. The sound of nearby traffic roars as workers in scrubs from the nearby hospital brush past women with strollers and groups of young men.
It was in Merrifield that county leaders celebrated their newest 'park' last month - a brick-lined plaza with a fountain and some benches centered between new apartment buildings.
It's just that kind of urban feel that attracted residents such as Duy Anh Huynh. 'I definitely think of Fairfax as a city. It's awesome, very vibrant,' Huynh, 34, said after picking up dinner at a burrito joint within walking distance of his apartment.
Many policy makers and planners believe Fairfax has no choice but to continue to grow along the Merrifield model. The alternative is for the same suburban development patterns to worsen traffic, pollution and sprawl - or for the growth that is expected to continue regionwide to pass Fairfax by. After that comes decline, they say.
'What would you rather do, leave it the way it is?' asked Robert E. Lang, author of the book 'Edgeless Cities' and co-director of the Metropolitan Institute at Virginia Tech. 'It's neither fish nor fowl. They are going to be out-citied by Arlington and out-countried by Loudoun.'
None of this means that redevelopment of Tysons or any other corner of Fairfax guarantees success. Politicians, planners and nervous neighbors are acutely aware of the perils of building up: more traffic if commuting patterns don't change; higher taxes to pay for the massive foundation of infrastructure that must be built; and, eventually, blight if Fairfax's new urban spaces or overall economy don't thrive.
So far, Fairfax has been fortunate to escape many of the downsides of urbanization. The percentage of people living in poverty has declined slightly this decade, and average income, fueled by an explosion in federal contracting and the technology industries, has risen.
Crime, notably robbery, ticked up in 2007, the most recent year for which data are available, but it followed a national trend and remains well below national averages.
The one typically urban issue Fairfax is grappling with is neighborhood blight. Old neighborhoods such as Kings Park along Braddock Road or Huntington along Route 1 have been struggling with decline. Unkempt rented homes and falling property values dot these landscapes. Some areas, such as the partly vacant mall in downtown Springfield, have developed such an unsavory reputation that several of the mothers in Burke said they do not allow their teen age children to go there.
County leaders say their plans to redevelop such places as Tysons and Springfield will help reverse such decline rather than precipitate it. They say the central perils of building up are the impacts on surrounding neighborhoods, not rising crime or declining schools.
'Whether we like it or not, change is coming to Fairfax County,' said Supervisor John C. Cook, R-Braddock. 'We are urbanizing. That doesn't mean that anything has to change for the residents of Clifton or Braddock, but staying static is not an option.'
In reality, an official redesignation from county to city is no simple task. Experts say it would be the largest such effort in modern Virginia history, and county leaders might prefer a more subtle route to achieve their goal of improving their transportation network, a task they say the state has failed to do.
If Fairfax does become a city, it would instantly become one of the largest in the nation, the size of San Antonio or San Jose.
It would also diverge dramatically from the stereotype of the gritty metropolis. Fairfax enjoys many of the benefits - wealth and jobs - and few of the detriments - crime, troubled schools - of a large urban center. With a median household income of $105,000, it is the wealthiest large county in the nation. Among large school systems, it boasts the highest test scores. And it has the lowest murder rate among the nation's 30 largest cities and counties.
Still, the city label doesn't quite fit for some community leaders. Supervisor John W. Foust, D-Dranesville, represents the largely suburban area around McLean and Herndon, where some residents worry that transformation in nearby Tysons will worsen traffic in their neighborhoods. The cul-de-sac lifestyle they have chosen is still the one that defines Fairfax, he said.
'I think the county form serves us pretty well,' he said. 'Future growth will be more urban, but we've got a huge population that has chosen a suburban model.'
CAPTION(S):
Tysons Corner, right, is already an economic and commercial behemoth, and it's only going to get bigger as development clusters around the Metrorail extension.
