[Editor’s Note: This is the second in a series on the Hollywood entrepreneur Bob Blue, second-generation owner of Bernard Luggage, near the intersection of Sunset and Vine. Since reaching a historic compromise last month with the city of Los Angeles and developers to keep his threatened business intact, he has been known as The Man Who Defeated Redevelopment. He is, not surprisingly, an ardent advocate of Prop. 90, the anti-eminent domain measure, on next Tuesday’s ballot. In the introductory installment (“Bob Blue Isn’t — Because He Learned How to Fight City Hall Intelligently,” Oct. 18), Mr. Blue was as a moderate business owner. He steps back, studies, then acts. Mr. Blue’s experiences could be instructive for Westside business owners facing eminent domain challenges.]

The enigmatic Bill Feldman has worked almost as ardently at avoiding public attention as he has at earning a tidy living as a major broker of industrial properties and then a developer in Culver City and across the Westside. Inarguably, he has wildly succeeded with both objectives. While strategically assembling an impressive stockpile of holdings, he has retained his cherished anonymity. He can walk the streets without being recognized by the ordinary who love to hero-worship the extraordinary. Clearly, it was going to take an uncommon action to bring Mr. Feldman into the sunshine. That occurred last Friday in thefrontpageonline.com, “Surfas and Deadline Go Face-to-Face in a Courtroom” (Oct. 20). In the context of his years’ long quarrel with City Hall, a former tenant, Les Surfas, said that because Mr. Feldman was “rich,” “powerful,” and “intimidating,” he had been skillfully able to avert the kind of eminent domain fight with the city that Mr. Surfas has found himself in. The implication was City Hall would not risk contesting for a property with the wily Mr. Feldman for fear of losing. These comments, made while noting that their landlord/tenant relationship was rocky, sparked an unusually probing response from Mr. Feldman. The two gentlemen, undoubtedly adversaries by this hour, endured a complicated relationship during their decade as landlord/tenant. When Mr. Feldman sat down this week to etch a candid portrait of Mr. Surfas, the finished product — a blend of admiration and pointed criticism — turned out to be an intriguing jigsaw puzzle, notable for its insightfulness and candor. The trajectory of their relationship seems to have ranged from lukewarm to frozen and back again. Relaxing in an immaculate upper floor Westside living room, he chose a plump chair before a large window with a view to the fog-shrouded outdoors. Mr. Feldman, the elder of the two by about 15 years, spoke with measured deliberation, punctuated by requisite pauses. Even when aroused, he never quickened his rhythm. He has devoted a significant swath of his recent life reflecting on the chief subjects of the day, a critique of Mr. Surfas and a defense of City Hall. Questions were sparse and succinct. He was prepared to make his case.  

Grimly battling City Hall’s wielding of eminent domain to retain his warehouse at a handy location, Culver City businessman Les Surfas appeared to gain maneuvering room at a brief hearing this morning in Superior Court in downtown Los Angeles — although it may be ephemeral. Mr. Surfas, his family and his attorney Connie Sandifer were upbeat afterward. While the move-out date remained in place, the court seemed sympathetic to Mr. Surfas’ desire for at least delaying the deadline by 60 to 90 days. Further, Mr. Surfas hopes that a victory by Prop. 90, the anti-eminent domain measure, on Election Day, Nov. 7, will reverse the momentum of the case and win back his warehouse for him. Superior Court Commissioner Bruce E. Mitchell expressed strong dissatisfaction with both City Hall and Mr. Surfas. He blamed them equally for their twin failures to provide “sufficient” evidence to justify their “hardship” claim. He rebuked Mr. Surfas for being unable to find a suitable new warehouse. He criticized the city for “being in such a hurry” to force the Surfas business off the warehouse property. Ms. Sandifer saw rays of light in Mr. Mitchell’s scoldings, and she promised to try to keep City Hall busy in a future courtroom. “The court is expressing serious concern about (the city’s) need for this property,” Ms. Sandifer said. “They haven’t established it. The point is, I don’t think they can establish their need, their immediate need, for this property. There are two issues here. This hearing only was about when they would be required to move. The second issue — which we have maintained and are going to request a trial date on — is whether they will have to move ever. This hearing was about when they would have to vacate, assuming the city has the right to take the property.” The parties were ordered back to court in six weeks to file briefs fleshing out their opposing claims regarding the city-imposed move-out date of Jan. 15. The skeptical Mr. Mitchell fired stinging criticisms at both sides. He told Ms. Sandifer, Mr. Surfas’ attorney, it did not seem reasonable that a satisfactory replacement for the Surfas warehouse could not be found in the general neighborhood. Addressing the city’s attorney, Judy Ailin, Mr. Mitchell said that since a city-sanctioned project for the site of the Surfas warehouse is not yet even a pea on the horizon, what’s the rush? Why are they urgently pushing Mr. Surfas off of the property at the intersection of National and Washington boulevards? Whatever is planned, said Mr. Mitchell, “it honestly seems so far down the road.” Seeking to validate the city’s stance, Ms. Ailin said that “we are living in a construction/development climate where rates escalate” practically daily. The longer the delay, the higher that costs will zoom, she said. For several years, City Hall has used often abstract language to explain that it needs the land as part of a greater property backdrop to accommodate a proposed aerial light rail station. City Hall has acquired most of the surrounding land. Mr. Surfas stands virtually alone as the final impediment to a clean sweep. The commissioner did not buy Ms. Ailin’s claim about speeded-up costs. “Go back to your client,” said Mr. Mitchell, “and say the court wonders why Mr. Surfas can’t have 2 or 3 more months.” Never altering his vocal tones, the commissioner pressed on. He challenged City Hall’s attorney. “Name two or three reasons the date needs to be Jan. 15, two or three things that make it necessary to have Mr. Surfas off the property.” Said Ms. Ailin: “I am not in position to answer the question.”

[Editor’s Note: This is the second of two reports about last week’s uncoupling of the day-to-day managers of The Culver Studios. For Part 1, see “Studio Waves Goodbye to Katersky Team at a Strange Time,” Oct. 24.]

Before Board Chairman Hal Katersky’s management team was informed last week that its contract to operate The Culver Studios would not be renewed, he said it essayed huge changes on the old Culver City lot. “When we arrived (two and a half years ago), the office space on the lot was 15 or 20 percent utilized,” Mr. Katersky said. “Now it’s busting over 100 percent. The stages were at about 50 percent. They are now full.” Prominent in the fallout from this major guard-changing are signs that once again The Culver Studios is up for sale. Possibly it is being primed for re-sale to the Culver City-based entertainment giant Sony. Down the street, though, Sony was not returning telephone inquiries. Although sources of thefrontpageonline.com made it abundantly clear that the decision to leave was not Mr. Katersky’s, he suggested numerous times to this newspaper that going away was the only logical direction for his group to take. “We have done everything here that we can,” Mr. Katersky said. Of strongest interest at the moment across Culver City is how the multiple departures of the team partners, CEO Dana Arnold, President Ron Lynch and the CFO Mr. Katersky will affect the opaque Downtown studio building project, Parcel B. “Not at all,” Mr. Katersky told thefrontpageonline.com in a private interview after the team’s dismissal leaked — and was reported here first. In the sometimes dizzying universe of corporate finance, the nuances of cross-pollination of players can lead to confusion of identities. “A separate group owns Parcel B,” said Mr. Katersky of the building project whose starting date has been pushed back from mid-winter to next spring. “The owner is Rush Pacifica LLC — we are the Pacifica part. My role (in Parcel B) is the same as it was.”

The Man Who Won’t Take No for an Answer also comes equipped with a permanent smile, an asset frequently overlooked in the steady drumbeat of skirmishing that goes on around him. His supporters say he is plucky. His critics call him stubborn. His four colleagues on the City Council say… Next question. Beaming the look of a man who is well seasoned in overcoming odds, Mayor Gary Silbiger sat in the command chair at 6:30 last evening at the Vets Auditorium to preside over the second meeting of what should be called the Silbiger Youth Commission. Earlier this week, he made the media rounds, invitations in hand. The mayor, after being firmly rejected by his comrades on the City Council, was seeking coverage for a pet project. He said that a Youth Commission is a worthy and unusual activity because it is about teenagers in warm pursuit of a goal normally associated with adults rather than students. “Youth should have a wider voice in Culver City,” Mr. Silbiger said. This past summer, when the mayor was trying to organize a certified, city-wide youth council to amplify the voices and concerns of students, his teammates on the City Council roundly told him no. There already was a city-sanctioned youth council, they said. Mr. Silbiger, who sometimes seems phlegmatic, just shrugged. He is accustomed to forming the entire minority on certain issues. If the city’s youth group was actually operating, he wondered to himself, why had he never heard of anything they were doing? Any positions they ever had taken?