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Working-class parts of Patapsco aim to cash in on water views

Doug Ashton takes pride in Orchard Beach, his community of small homes and cottages nestled along northern Anne Arundel County's waterfront, where the laid-off construction superintendent has organized cleanups of shorelines sometimes littered with beer cans and other trash.

Now Ashton is pushing to clean up his area's reputation as an outpost of the scrappy South Baltimore neighborhood of Curtis Bay, leading an effort for his community to get its own ZIP code. Orchard Beach is one of six waterfront communities of cottages and townhouses that recently banded together to lobby the U.S. Postal Service to officially recognize their communities; though they won't get their own ZIP codes, they'll soon be listed as independent postal destinations.

"When someone says, 'You live in Curtis Bay,' you think, 'You can't swim in it, you can't crab in it. Nothing,'" said Ashton, president of the Orchard Beach Improvement Association. "There's a perception that there's dirty water, a lot of industry, a lot of crimes. And with the same ZIP code, people associate all that stuff with our homes, and it's just two different worlds."

Ashton's not the only waterfront resident concerned about image these days. All along the Patapsco River, communities such as Dundalk and Anne Arundel's Chestnut Hill Cove are trying to capitalize on their waterfront locations and attract new, more diverse residents without betraying their shared, working-class, maritime heritage.

Names, and the identities that go along with them, matter in the real estate world especially, said Joseph T. "Jody" Landers, executive vice president for the Baltimore Board of Realtors. In the past five years, Landers said he's seen more concerted efforts by communities to influence consumer perceptions. At the same time, prices on waterfront property have "skyrocketed," he said, with buyers snatching up smaller homes in places like Middle River and Bowleys Quarters and replacing them with mini-mansions.

"Consumers are much more attuned to neighborhood designations and the names of developments than they were in the past," said Landers. "People want to be associated with the brand that has a more favorable public image. It can take time to change negative connotations, but it's really important. If the neighborhood isn't promoting itself, who will?"

In Dundalk, a community long tired of being the butt of jokes aimed at its roots as a base for blue-collar workers, officials used state marketing grants to fund a survey on how they can improve the area's image.

Even before the survey results are in, the Dundalk Renaissance Corporation has begun trying to fight the notion that the area is a downtrodden place, marred by crime. Dundalk is highlighting its downtown as a historic district of charming, reasonably priced rowhouses and new housing development. Boosters see potential in projects such as Stansbury Shores, a development of about 200 townhouses and single family-detached homes on the waterfront.

But residents of waterfront communities that have become more tony in recent years caution that the economic growth that comes with new development can also detract from an area's character.

Before Tropical Storm Isabel flooded Bowleys Quarters in 2003, destroying hundreds of homes, the neighborhood was already in decline, with the closure of Bethlehem Steel and the manufacturing giant Glenn L. Martin Co., where many of its residents worked.

Wavelen Scott, a West Virginia native, moved to her small brick house on Frog Mortar Creek in 1954. The flood filled her basement with 5 feet of water, but many homes sustained worse damage and the owners moved away. Soon after, she saw a huge building boom take hold of the neighborhood, which produced a majority of gleaming new homes, many selling for in excess of $1 million.

While the newcomers have brought greater affluence to the neighborhood, Scott says there's also a sense of loss in what was a tight-knit community of working-class people employed at the nearby manufacturing plant. Instead of families crabbing and fishing on the water, the waterfront feels more like a fancy marina, Scott says, with "too many people, too much boat traffic."

"It looks better now, and yeah, my house is worth more money, but my taxes are three times as high," said Scott. "I liked it better the old way."

Bowleys Quarters is somewhat unique in that its transition was accelerated by a natural disaster. Change comes much more gradually in other communities, said Kathleen M. Koch, executive director of Arundel Community Development Corporation. She works to revitalize downtrodden neighborhoods, while trying to maintain the original character.

Koch worked for a decade to revitalize a historic African-American community in Galesville, south of Annapolis, where many residents worked as oyster shuckers and lived in small homes with no running water.

"It's important that a community still has its identity," said Koch. "You don't want to lose that character. If a community has an image issue, you have to change it. But it didn't get that way overnight and it's not going to change that quickly either."

Jean Walker, a native Dundalkian and retired elementary school teacher, volunteers at the Dundalk Patapsco Neck Historical Society and Museum. The work is a way for her to spread the word about her town's rich agricultural history, she said, and hopefully influence how people view the area today.

"It's always had a bad rap," said Walker, 75. "They always made derogatory remarks about the people of Dundalk. But this is really a wonderful community. It's hard to change the reputation. But we're working on it."

For the Anne Arundel communities of Stoney Beach, Orchard Beach, Greenland Beach, Clearwater Beach, Chestnut Hill Cove and Carvel Beach, there's more to the ZIP code change than property values and car insurance rates. There's an element of civic pride

"Our water's 1,000 times cleaner than theirs," said Ashton. "And you just don't relate Orchard Beach with crime. But as soon as you say 'Curtis Bay,' it's like, 'Oh, man.' "

Carol Eshelman, executive director of the Brooklyn and Curtis Bay Coalition, said that historically the communities have been tied together with their neighbors to the south. Until 1918, she points out, Brooklyn and Curtis Bay were part of Arundel.

Curtis Bay has worked on its own revitalization efforts she said, building green townhouses and the restoration of a historic building for community celebrations.

"There are many similarities," said Eshelman. "We have waterfront views — and city skyline views."

But Anne Arundel residents still aren't convinced.

Robert Anuszewski, a retired tugboat engineer at Baltimore Gas and Electric, for many years lived in East Brooklyn, a city neighborhood. About 20 years ago, he said, he got an itching for a quieter suburban lifestyle, and moved to a new townhouse development in Chestnut Hill Cove.

"The thing of it is, I moved out of Curtis Bay to get a nice house in the country," said Anuszewski. "But I'm still in Curtis Bay. It's crazy. I feel like it's downright criminal because we're being forced to say we live in Curtis Bay."

nicole.fuller@baltsun.com

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