Home News Surfas, in His Gleaming New Digs, Soberly Sizes up What City Hall...

Surfas, in His Gleaming New Digs, Soberly Sizes up What City Hall ‘Stole’ from Him

95
0
SHARE


First of two parts


­

Approaching Les Surfas’s new warehouse on Billy Barty-sized Landmark Street, just east of Downtown — to discuss Prop. 98 and Prop. 99 in the June 3 election — a visitor mused, noiselessly, about framing a delicate, appropriate greeting.

This would not be so different from tiptoeing toward newlyweds in a marriage where the blushing bride has just given birth to the child of the immediate past boyfriend.

Do you say, “Congratulations. The place looks terrific”?

Or do you lead with, “Gosh. Sorry to see you here. Bet you wish you were back at your old place that City Hall threw you out of”?

To a visitor, the spacious new site, down the street from where the soon-to-move Park Century School will open, fairly gleams.



Not Even Close to Stuffy

Bright and airy, Mr. Surfas’s office and warehouse headquarters are roomy enough to even accommodate sufferers of claustrophobia.

But since Mr. Surfas effectively is at 3975 Landmark under protest, not because he wants to, he has his own way of characterizing the location.

First history, then an opinion.

“I originally took financial possession last June,” he said from across a smartly styled glass desk. “After extensive remodeling — to the tune of about a million dollars — we were able to move in during the holiday time in December.”

What is Mr. Surfas’s opinion of his new digs?

No need to brace. You can be sure a candid answer is about to be emailed.

‘Nice…but’

Nearing 60 years old, he is grizzled, gruff and sharp, say people who know him well.

“Well,” Mr. Surfas started, slowly, “it’s a nice building,” sounding the same way a disappointed young man would describe his blind date, upon first sighting, as “interesting looking.”

“To get straight to the bottom line, what will this building, at the end of a dead-end street, be worth 5 years from now, compared to what the property the city took away from me for 25,000 (light rail) riders will be worth?

“If you ask me in that format, you know the answer.”

Mr. Surfas, the owner of Surfas Restaurant Supply and Gourmet Foods, carved a permanent home for himself in the hearts of many residents several years ago when he waged an epic, and bloody, battle with City Hall.

Ferocious and feisty by nature, Mr. Surfas lost a titanic war to retain his warehouse property at the corner of Washington and National boulevards because, he said, the government’s side held all of the weaponry.


Question: How close did you come to receiving the price you wanted from City Hall for the warehouse property?

“We will never know. Due to the law of eminent domain in this country, you never have a chance to put your property on what the market will pay. It’s what the professional appraiser says it is worth. I have my own opinion about what the market would bear, and the future values. I am sure I got at least $3 million less than I could have on the open market.”



Question: Without any recourse, right. You take what City Hall offered or else. Is that correct?

“No. This is not a Culver City thing. This is a government thing. The process works this way. Once the city has pegged you (designated your property for acquisition), they hire their appraiser to come up with what they call fair market value. Let’s put it this way.”


Mr. Surfas’s telephone rang. When he returned to the interview, his response was stronger than he was speaking when interrupted.





“The process works like this. Once the government has decided they’re going to steal your property, I mean take your property, they hire the person they want to be their appraiser.

“Now how does that appraiser get picked? He’s the guy who’s going to justify the lowest possible price. And that’s what they say they are going to pay you.

“Now the way the process works is, you say ‘Wait a minute. That’s not fair.’ Then you spend a lot of money and get your own appraiser.

“On almost every occasion, the government offers these people far less money than their property is really worth. They call that ‘negotiating time.’

“In my case, I spent close to $400,000 in legal fees to collect a couple of million dollars extra they didn’t offer me. Four hundred thousand in legal fees. According to the law, the way it is now, you are not entitled to collect any of that back.”



(To be continued)

­