It was all supposed to be one, the new developments surrounding I-75 in New Tampa, but instead it has evolved into separate sections going in different directions.
By RODNEY THRASH
Published March 26, 2004
NEW TAMPA - Dulce Algood rarely goes southwest of Interstate 75.
"Why go to Publix in Tampa Palms when I have one in my back yard?" the 52-year-old West Meadows grandmother asks.
"We don't need anything in Tampa Palms anymore. We have everything here."
It wasn't supposed to be this way.
"Here," as Algood calls New Tampa, and Tampa Palms were supposed to be part of the same thread, a loosely defined hodgepodge of posh suburban enclaves in northeast Tampa called New Tampa.
And though New Tampa and Tampa Palms are linked by the same dysfunctional road (Bruce B. Downs Boulevard) and some of the same quality-of-life issues (transportation), the two have become seemingly different worlds.
From the I-75 overpass, the dichotomy is stark: Gaudy neon signs, big-box retail stores and new houses to the north. Heaps of homes and wooded preserves to the south.
Indeed, the difference is real.
It's apparent in the membership rolls of civic groups. Just one-third of the New Tampa Community Council's more than 230 members come from Tampa Palms, said Frank Margarella, president of the chamber of commerce-like council. A majority - more than 66 percent - come from communities north of I-75.
It's apparent in the words of the people who call New Tampa home.
"Tampa Palms is Tampa Palms," said Tom Bruce, 74, who has lived northeast of I-75 in Pebble Creek since 1978. "They got a nice community down there."
It's even apparent on the city record books.
According to the city's Web site, Arbor Greene, Cory Lake Isles, Heritage Isles, Hunter's Green, Richmond Place and West Meadows comprise a section of town called New Tampa North. Tampa Palms is its own neighborhood.
What's in a name?
Eleven years ago, northeast Tampa was nothing more than a disjointed mix of master-planned communities that included Hunter's Green, Pebble Creek and Tampa Palms.
Simple questions like "where are you from" often generated a variety of responses, said Mike Wallace, 44, a Hunter's Green homeowner since 1989 and coach of the New Tampa Sharks, a Pop Warner football team.
"I'm from Hunter's Green, I'm from Pebble Creek, I'm from Tampa Palms," said Wallace, an investment vice president with the United Bank of Switzerland. "It got down to the little minute areas."
Collectively, they had no identity. Not like the more established Carrollwood, Lutz and Town 'N Country.
So when Frank Margarella left Orlando for a job interview in Hunter's Green, his employers didn't know where to direct him.
Head down Interstate 4, merge onto I-275, get off at Bearss and head toward ... Carrollwood, they told him.
Eventually, Margarella found his way to Bruce B. Downs and into the general manager's seat of the Hunter's Green Country Club.
Soon thereafter, he founded the Northeast Community Council. But Northeast lacked oomph. It didn't convey the area's elegance or its novelty. It didn't say much of anything.
Growing up in Chicago, Margarella can rattle off names of neighborhoods. Names that tell a story. Like Lincoln Park, the trendy section of town with the expensive brownstones. The Gold Coast, home of Chicago's rich and famous. Or Old and New Towns. One day it hit him: It's Tampa and it's new. How about New Tampa?
There was moaning from both sides of I-75; "folks that felt they didn't need New Tampa," Margarella said.
Others just thought the name was plain stupid.
People would ask, "What about 20 or 30 years from now? It won't be new then?"
He always replied the same: "Well, what about New York City? It's a name."
Before long, the Northeast Community Council was the New Tampa Community Council. The library? New Tampa Regional Library. The community newspaper? New Tampa Neighborhood News. And if some could have had their way, Wharton High School would have been named New Tampa High School.
But while New Tampa has come to define much of the area, for some, it's nothing more than a name.
They were "new" first
Some of the early resistance to "the New Tampa movement" came from Tampa Palms.
"Tampa Palms never got to be the vision of the original developer," Margarella said, adding later that "there were some bitter feelings about it."
When home sales slumped and his debt increased, Ken Good, Tampa Palms' original developer, pulled out. Pieces of Tampa Palms were sold off to banks and other developers.
So when the idea of New Tampa emerged, some had a "We were here before there was a New Tampa" attitude, Margarella said.
But few in Tampa Palms see it that way.
"The idea and the naming started right here in "Old New Tampa,' " said Bob White, 72, who has lived in Tampa Palms' Sanctuary village since 1989.
Gene Field, chairman of the Tampa Palms Community Development District, said he considers Tampa Palms part of New Tampa.
"I mix regularly with people from Arbor Greene and never thought about the differences," he said.
If anything, the communities don't interact as much because they each have self-governing bodies such as community development districts and homeowners associations.
"It's a disjointed community," said Matt Palmer, 52, who has lived in the Wellington village of Tampa Palms for 10 years. "You've got West Meadows, Pebble Creek. It goes on and on and on."
There's also a general complacency in New Tampa because "life is good," Margarella said.
"Our biggest issue is traffic," he said. "Other than that, (the attitude is) leave me alone and let me deal with my daily routine."
Divided by a highway
It doesn't help that I-75 splits New Tampa and Tampa Palms in half, some say.
"Interstates generally divide areas," said Jim Hosler, leader of the Hillsborough County City-County Planning Commission's research and economic development team. "Look at what 275 did to Seminole Heights and (what) I-4 (did) to Ybor City and West Tampa. They were built through existing neighborhoods.
"It ain't bad. It just is."
Still, there's a mentality that's hard to break.
The cover of a recent issue of a neighborhood magazine reads: TAMPA PALMS / NEW TAMPA / WESLEY CHAPEL.
Even Shawn Harrison, the City Council member who represents all of New Tampa, has been quoted as saying New Tampa and Tampa Palms.
It's merely a habit, said Dr. Todd Wiener, who has practiced dentistry southwest of I-75 for more than 25 years and is secretary of the New Tampa Community Council.
"It's kind of a holdover from before they knew what New Tampa was," he said. "There's a residual of that."
Bob Van Sickler, an Asbury village homeowner and former president of the Tampa Palms Owners Association, says people refer to Tampa Palms separately from New Tampa merely to explain where they live.
"If you live in Tampa Palms, you live in Tampa Palms," he said. "If you live in New Tampa, you live in New Tampa."
Embracing the whole
But Margarella said he believes the area could have greater clout if more people embraced "the New Tampa movement." Having just 230 members in an association that is supposed to represent some 30,000 residents doesn't look good when the council is trying to bargain for New Tampa's fair share of city services. It's a numbers game.
"That's what these government officials look at," he said.
He points to political battles such as last year's billboard flap. The billboard was located in Tampa Palms, but outrage spread throughout New Tampa. Ultimately, county officials ordered that the billboard be taken down.
"I think embracing (the New Tampa movement) only enhances our influence," Margarella said.
In time, people may begin to identify with New Tampa as opposed to their individual neighborhoods, some say.
They point to several upcoming projects that will force people on both sides of I-75 to interact more.
There's the proposed 300,000-square-foot shopping center on Bruce B. Downs and Commerce Palms boulevards, the recently opened New Tampa Community Park on Commerce Park Boulevard, and a yet-unfunded recreation center. Also in the works is a proposed bridge that will cross I-75 and end at Commerce Park Boulevard in Tampa Palms.
"That will bond that area to Tampa Palms," Palmer said.
On a recent Tuesday afternoon, Algood planted bright red flowers in her driveway. As she knelt on her front lawn and shoveled dirt, a tenor voice yelled, "Hey Grandma." It was her grandson. School, so close that the boy rode his bike, was out for the day.
But more than schools, gas stations, video stores, salons, restaurants, supermarkets surround her. Long after the sun goes down, Algood still has options: a 24-hour Wal-Mart Supercenter, a Steak n Shake and a Wendy's that's open until 1 a.m.
The commercial selections in Tampa Palms, on the other hand, are few, she said. And except for the 7-Eleven convenience store and gas station, Tampa Palms is dead by midnight.
"Tampa Palms is a little behind," Algood said.
"We're new. People want to live where we're living."
