OPINION: Movie set house in Mystic gets to keep its non-compliant fence
Aug. 16—If a picture tells a thousand words, then one of Ruth Crocker, widow, wife, mother, grandmother, writer, teacher, native of Mystic, community volunteer and 38-year caretaker of a charming 1880 Pearl Street home, standing in front of her neighbor's unseemly new privacy wall towering over her own picket fence is a good start for this story.
The Groton Historic District Commission approved the fence, proposed as a six-foot structure, last summer, while Crocker was in California for the birth of a grandchild.
She had no idea permission for the fence was being considered because the commission doesn't require that applicants notify neighbors by mail of what they are proposing.
One commissioner later told Crocker — you can't make this up — that she and everyone else in the district should be checking committee agendas online every week to see if their neighbors are planning any projects.
To flash forward a little in the story, the fence was built taller than the permitted six feet. The owner, Brian Carroll of 21 Gravel St. and Worcester, Mass., said he lowered it once. But after goading from Crocker, a town zoning inspector measured the fence recently as inches too tall in places. Estimates of the additional height in various locations range from up to two to four inches by Carroll and the inspector to up to nine inches by Crocker.
And Tuesday night, the commission waved its magic wand, seemingly oblivious to the historic character of the district it is supposed to preserve and, in a 4-1 vote, agreed that that the too-tall fence could remain.
Makes you wonder why anyone would bother building according to the permission you are granted, if you know you can just go back and get a fresh blessing if you get caught not complying.
What is even more alarming, noted Crocker's attorney, R. Chris Palmer, is that it was the town's own enforcement officer who instead of issuing an order to make the fence comply suggested a new application to the commission.
Groton Town Councilor Portia Bordelon, who spoke up during the public hearing, said she wasn't taking sides but suggested the town needs to look at how the historic properties rules are developed and followed.
"We can build bridges, not fences," she said
This is the same commission, with some different membership, that not long ago granted permission for the demolition of one of the most Iconic historic houses on Gravel Street.
The owner had to back down and save the house, despite the green light from the Groton commission, after state preservationists stepped in and threatened to mobilize the attorney general to sue over the demolition of a house in a federal historic district.
It's important to remember that existence of the historic district and its rules is what has kept Mystic charming for so many years. It's like a Hollywood set.
Indeed, Carroll's handsome 19th-century house was used last year in the filming of the Lifetime movie "Twelve Days of Christmas Eve," about a Scrooge-like businessman forced into a Groundhog Day-style loop of the holiday, until he could finally get the spirit right.
The existing fence rules in the commission's handbook would seem to discourage the kind that the commission allowed Carroll to build.
"Reconstruction of historically appropriate fences is encouraged," the rule book says.
The rules say picket fences are preferred and that existing fences should be preserved. Carroll's new fence overwhelms the existing picket fence that has long separated the yards of the two historic houses.
There are certainly tall, stockade fences around the neighborhood, but that doesn't mean sins or unfortunate permissions of past years should be repeated.
When I spoke to Carroll earlier this week he said there is no hope of negotiating a fence compromise with his neighbor, after I suggested perhaps lowering a small part of the fence so she could enjoy some of the river views she once had.
He repeated a claim made by his architect in the original hearing granting him permission for the fence, that Crocker rents out her house as an Airbnb and has loud parties.
Crocker, who said she has never spoken to Carroll, despite efforts to reach out and talk about the fence, vigorously denied in Tuesday's hearing ever renting her house or having big parties.
I find her totally believable. And it made me very sad to hear her explain how the tall fence, which now blocks the glimpses of the river and prevailing breezes she has enjoyed for decades, makes her yard feel like a prison.
I also grimaced when one of the commissioners criticized her Tuesday for complaining about the fence on her property line built beyond the permitted height.
The offensive commissioner was chastised by Commissioner John Goodrich, who cast the only vote against allowing the non-conforming fence to remain.
And I couldn't help but wish, like the kind of Groundhog Day portrayed in the Hallmark movie filmed last year on Gravel Street, that they could try a remake of Tuesday's hearing, one in which a spirit of neighborliness would finally prevail.
This is the opinion of David Collins