Bob Passmore

SF Chronicle article 

Sep. 28, 2020

https://www.sfchronicle.com/bayarea/article/Bob-Passmore-S-F-planner-instrumental-in-15603905.php

Bob Passmore, former S.F. planner instrumental in rezoning downtown, dies

By Sam Whiting

Bob Passmore, a 40-year San Francisco city planner who was instrumental in applying and enforcing the zoning code during an era when a new downtown master plan was devised, died Sept. 15 at his home in Napa. The cause of death was Crohn’s disease, said Carolyn Passmore, his wife of 56 years. He was 86. From May 1960 until July 1999, Passmore worked for the city and was charged with the often impossible balancing act of bringing builders and developers who wanted to keep the city growing into agreement with preservationists and neighborhood activists who wanted to preserve the essential charm of San Francisco. Passmore held the official title of zoning administrator for 21 years, including during the 1980s, which was a time of accelerating change to the downtown landscape as office development was shifted from the Financial District north of Market Street to the new hub South of Market. During his tenure, the Tenderloin was rezoned and Mission Bay got its start, while the historic quadrants of Chinatown and North Beach were protected. “Anyone who can be in charge of administrating the zoning code for that long and serve so many mayors has to have what Bob had, which was a high level of integrity,” said retired Planning Director Dean Macris. “He was an absolute master in applying the code in the fairest possible manner.” A city planner is not an elected or appointed official. They serve four-year terms and come and go. Passmore was a civil servant and he stayed and stayed, as both his beard and the city’s planning codes grew and grew. When he joined the Planning Department in 1960, the planning code was less than a quarter-inch thick. By the time he retired, 3 inches of thickness had been added to it. Meanwhile, the general plan, or master plan, had grown to 2 feet in thickness. “Bob was the ultimate referee in how you apply the words of a document that is well over 1,000 pages,” Macris said. Zoning administrator is a job built for criticism from both sides, and Passmore got it. He was often criticized for favoring development. “He’s the right name,” a fellow planner once quipped. “He’ll pass more projects.” Upon his retirement in 1999, Passmore was saluted by the San Francisco Examiner’s esteemed urban planning writer Gerald Adams in an article titled “The Man with the Plan.” He was a man of impenetrable integrity and proof of that is he was respected by developers. “Or not.” Robert Walter Passmore was born Oct. 15, 1933, in State College, Pa., where he grew up. His father was a high school principal who died young and his mother was incapacitated, leaving Robert to be raised by his paternal grandmother. One of his main interests was scouting, and he earned the rank of Eagle in the Boy Scouts. He worked all forms of odd jobs to pay his way through Penn State University, where he graduated with a degree in architecture. Passmore then came to UC Berkeley as a graduate student in urban and regional planning. He earned his master’s degree and went straight to work for the city and county of San Francisco in 1960. In November 1963, Passmore returned to State College to sell the home where he grew up. On a blind date, he met Carolyn Hazlett, from rival school the University of Pittsburgh. They overcame that difference and were married after a four-month courtship and both returned to San Francisco. They bought a home on Cumberland Street near Dolores Park and lived there for 50 years, while raising three sons — Walter, Matthew and Steven. Both Walter and Matthew are adopted. “He was a child of the Depression, and one of the values that his grandmother instilled in him was this ethic of hard work, and I think that lasted his entire life,” said Walter Passmore, an urban forester for the city of Palo Alto. One of his small acts of rebellion was a beard, which he used to joke about as cover for his lack of a chin. That was the extent of his style consciousness. Passmore was known to wear hand-me-downs from co-workers. It did not matter to him if they were out of style. Though he worked in a strictly urban environment, he was a backpacker and could handle a two-man canoe. He became involved in Troop 14 of the Boy Scouts of America, and guided all three of his sons through Eagle status, an eight-year commitment. “He just had tons of energy,” said his wife. When the Loma Prieta earthquake hit in 1989, the Passmore home lost a total of one dish. The Passmores fared worse after leaving the city and buying a home in Napa in 2014. That earthquake cost them two brick chimneys. By that time, Passmore was mainly retired but still worked as a consultant. He slowly whittled his hours down down from 60 a week for the city to maybe five hours a week before he finally retired on his 80th birthday. Survivors include his wife, Carolyn of Napa, and sons Walter of Redwood City, Matthew of Berkeley and Steven of Napa.

SF Gate

THE MAN WITH THE PLAN

By Gerald Adams

https://www.sfgate.com/bayarea/article/THE-MAN-WITH-THE-PLAN-3076728.php

July 6, 1999

He's the tall fellow with the white beard. Poker-faced and mostly silent, he sat near San Francisco planning commissioners at their weekly sessions and spoke only when spoken to. But when he opened his mouth, it was the voice of an oracle. Depending on the words that Robert Passmore chose to deliver from that seat, towers could rise, new houses gain an extra bedroom, backyards could shrink, and apartments could be transformed into hotel rooms. Or not. After four decades with the San Francisco Planning Department - more than 21 years with the official title of zoning administrator - Bob Passmore retired last week to become a sometimes consultant to The City while resuming an earlier career as an architectural engineer. If knowledge is power, Passmore proves it. Planning directors and planning commissioners didn't always know the answers, but Passmore did. No one knows the rules better than this man with a professorial demeanor, rules that have grown in numbers and complexity as developers and homeowners try to squeeze new, often conflicting interests into San Francisco's tight 47 square-mile peninsula tip. Regulations multiply it; When he joined the department in 1960, the planning code - one of the two bibles the Planning Commission must follow in making its decisions - was about a quarter-inch thick. "Now, it's about 3-1/4-inches thick." Passmore chuckled. A second bible is the general plan (formerly called master plan). In the same period it has fattened from a quarter-inch to what Passmore guesses to be 2 feet in thickness. Zoning administrator: The very title has an esoteric ring. To understand what the officeholder does requires some technical explanation. In one sense, the post is filled by a sort of cop who, theoretically at least, sees that plans for new buildings or remodeling projects conform to the planning code and to the general plan's guidelines. He is also the chief whistle-blower who sounds an alarm about those who exceed a height limit, who install an illegal "mother-in-law" apartment or convert a residential hotel into a tourist inn. Since recent administrative changes have stripped the zoning administrator of his enforcement staff, the office has concentrated more on requests for variances by folks who say they want to build something other than what the law allows. It also interprets the codes when planning commissioners wonder whether a would-be home remodeler's project meets the standard. "In many respects, Passmore has been the zoning code," said his former boss, ex-Planning Director Dean Macris, who added that nobody else knew its details so well. With so many pages and rules, "boy is there a lot of room for interpretation," Macris said. "Passmore is Mr. Interpretation, and it's in his head." Complimenting Passmore for having "a steel-trap memory for details," Macris admires him for being "extraordinarily professional at what he does." His colleagues, past and present, call him "a laissez-faire Republican" who believes in fewer laws, and who has at times interpreted rules to favor development. "He's well named . . . he'll pass more projects," cracked one of the more critical planners who spoke on condition of anonymity. The "guts' to say no; Even the town's most prominent environmental lawyer, Sue Hestor, praised Passmore's professionalism. Hestor, who has frequently clashed with Passmore while representing clients protesting new developments, credited his knowledge of the planning code, "his ability to make a decision expeditiously, (for citing) the policy issues underlying the rules" and "for his ability to tell people "No, you can't do this.' " In a recent land use dispute on Russian Hill, Hestor recalled that Passmore had knocked two floors off a penthouse project. "He's the one who has the guts to do that," she added. Passmore said he viewed "zoning, basically, as a way to keep things from being as bad as they might otherwise be." Moreover, "the zoning administrator's position tries to take what can never be a perfect set of controls to try to make the most of it to improve livability of a city." Acknowledging his Republican views as someone who believes governments should remove two old laws for every new one they create, Passmore pondered the ways in which he might have exerted more power in the past. For instance, he wishes he could redo some of the rapid growth period of the 1960s. "As I walk around town, I see things I allowed that today we wouldn't allow," he said. "When that stuff was approved, we didn't realize we had the power to use (the Planning Commission's) discretionary review powers (to improve them)." The '60s, he mused, were years when The City wanted growth and wanted to be "the biggest city on the West Coast."