John Mark Slack wanted to restore his historic San Marcos home for livability. But San Marcos’ Historic Preservation Commission demanded that in order to get a Certificate of Appropriateness—its stamp of approval—he must replace the roof, siding and doors; broaden the front porch, and add skirting.
But commissioners didn’t stop there. In a recent Commission hearing, John stood in the dank meeting room and listened to the Commission discuss their feelings about his property for more than 35 minutes. Feelings—not facts.
Commission members made lengthy remarks about how they wanted the siding of John’s house to look. They first settled on one type of siding, then changing their minds when another commission member suggested something “more historical.” Briefly, they even considered making John and his family keep the asbestos siding, before eventually acknowledging the safety concern.
It wasn’t about aesthetics; the Commission conditioned the replacement of the windows on keeping the original, old screens.
When discussing the porch, a commission member felt that the small front porch was nice, and shouldn’t be expanded, while another suggested that “if it were their porch” they would want it bigger.
It became clear it wasn’t about the historic nature of the property—it was about control.
In San Marcos, and in much of the rest of Texas, authorization from a “Historic Preservation Commission” is a needless violation of property rights, at a time when there is already a tightening of the housing market, and when landowners face hurdles building or renovating within city limits.
Texas established the “Texas Historical Commission” in 1953 with the purpose of accurately tracking Texas history and identifying Texas historic sites. Large cities soon followed by appointing their own preservation commissions. However, these city-appointed commissions have grown to demand more than preservation of Texas history as they augment their authority to control the aesthetic features of private property.
Is it a good tradeoff? A city commission preventing a private property owner from renovating their home may seem worth the property right violation to preserve pieces of Texas history
But modern historical preservation commissions aren’t looking at property rights.
In John’s hearing before the San Marcos board, he was called up to answer about doors. He wanted to replace one front door with a window. Commission staff members remarked how sad they would feel to see such a feature go. A member of the commission agreed.
After everyone’s feelings about the possibly historic front doors were heard, permission for replacing either of John’s doors was denied. He was instructed to leave both attached to the home in their original condition, despite the doors’ lack of function.
Who else is subject to this nitpicking? Any landowner with property in a “historic district” or deemed a “historic landmark” must submit all potential changes of their property for approval from a “Historic Preservation Commission.” The commission expects the landowner to provide detailed documents, named construction materials, and property models in the request to alter their own property.
These homes aren’t the state-owned Texas Governor’s Mansion or the Alamo; they are plots of land owned by Texas citizens exercising their liberty of property ownership. Yet they are limited by the subjective conditions of a commission that owns no part of the property. In John’s case, none of the commissions decisions were genuinely about the property’s historical value.
John Locke said that the “great and chief purpose of men uniting into commonwealths, and putting themselves under government, is the preservation of their property.” However, instead of preserving private property rights, it seems Historic Preservation Commissions are encroaching on the basic right of altering private property.
Forcing private land owners to align their renovations with the aesthetic opinions of an appointed city board is not serving the people or preserving history. It’s stopping history from being made.
