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This piece is written by CL Contributor Manny Leto

It’s 9 a.m. in City Council Chambers and Ken Ferlita sits listening to attorney Michael Labarbera rattle off the list of maladies associated with the building Ferlita’s immigrant grandfather once owned. The roof is gone, the grout between the bricks is crumbling, the walls are bowing.

He already knows the story. For the past year or more, Ken Ferlita has tried to find a way to save the former Ferlita Macaroni Factory, which his Sicilian grandfather founded in 1912 in West Tampa.

Giuseppe Ferlita moved the factory to 1607 22nd Street in Ybor City in 1924. The building served both as his family’s primary residence and business. Giuseppe embellished the building with neo-classical columns and a grand front entrance to mirror the nearby Italian Club, which was constructed just a few years earlier, in 1917. The business eventually outgrew its Ybor City headquarters and, in 1946, Ferlita sold the building to Pedro and Digna Diaz Perez, who used it as a cigar factory and residence. The family eventually sold the cigar business but continued to live in the building until 1974.

In 1985, Less Thompson purchased the property and, after of 25 years of ownership has brought Labarbera before the Barrio Latino Commission to argue his case for demolishing the historic blonde brick structure.

Faced with the threat of demolition back in February of this year, Ferlita approached Joe Capitano, a past president of the Italian Club, local business owner and Ybor City native, for help. Capitano proposed that the Italian Club’s Building Trust acquire the old macaroni factory through a partnership with an un-named tenant, but who, sources report, may have been the Columbia Restaurant. Ferlita’s architecture firm and a host of others agreed to work pro bono. The deal fell through when sufficient parking could not be secured. With no parking, the deal was dead.

“I don’t know why this burden should fall on the shoulders of a non-profit,” said Ferlita who feels the city and the Ybor City Development Corporation could take a more active role in saving the building.

There’s no doubt the old factory needs work. To stabilize the property, an internal steel cage would have to be erected since the existing walls are too weak to support any meaningful restoration, a financial hardship that Miller argues he cannot bear, hence the demolition request.

The real issue, however, is why Thompson, who purchased the building a quarter century ago, was allowed to let his building rot. According to the City, Thompson has never filed a single application for repairs or modifications of any kind on the building. A progression of aerial photos presented by the City during the hearing show a small hole in the roof growing like a cancer. The roof caved in last year, which prompted the first demolition request back in February. Thompson, by the way, owns a roofing supply company.

According to City of Tampa statutes, it’s actually illegal to allow a building you own to deteriorate. It’s a public safety hazard and, in the case of the Ferlita Macaroni Factory and other historic properties, it robs the community of a piece of its unique identity and history. It’s also an end-run around preservation laws.  “What it does to a community,” said Barrio Latino Commissioner Leigh Wilson-Versaggi, “is unconscionable.”

In Tampa, this is nothing new.

In April of 2006, the Maas Brothers Building and the Strand Theater – a contemporary to the Tampa Theater – were both torn down to make way for a condo development that never materialized. The owner claimed the building was too far gone to restore, the City issued a condemnation order.

In March of 2007 a fire ripped through the Albany Hotel on North Franklin Street, which had been vacant since at least the early 1980s. The building slowly deteriorated, the roof caved in. Then came the fire.

In late 2008, the roof of the Gary School, built in 1913, crumbled during severe thunderstorms. The owner sat on the building for years, letting it fall into serious disrepair. He owned a demolition company. He bulldozed the old school himself.

When you start talking about Historic Preservation, there’s usually a conversation about aesthetics, a somewhat intangible “quality of life” argument, a commentary on the loss of community memory, of our identity. You could also argue that if a property owner knowingly purchases a historic property located within the boundaries of a pre-existing historic district, he also accepts the concordant responsibility to maintain the property to standards set forth by the city.

Instead of all of that, let’s just talk about money. As one of only four National Historic Landmark Districts in the State of Florida, Ybor City is frequently cited as one the most-visited tourist destinations in Tampa. State wide, heritage tourism pumps close to 4 billon dollars into the economy in both direct and indirect spending. Some 80% of Floridians report that they bring visiting guests and relatives to historic sites while close to 10% of all visitors come to Florida specifically to visit historic sites and landmarks.

Despite the area’s reputation for booze and brawls, the real reason – more than any other in fact - that people come to Ybor City is for its history, which is manifest in its historic buildings. And that history is a big economic driver. It’s also fading with every demolition request, fire and roof collapse.

Some people are trying.

City Council passed a demolition by neglect ordinance in 2008 that seems to be realizing positive results. You may have noticed that the owners of the Kress Building in downtown Tampa, after years of doing precious little with the historic property they have owned since 1977, have recently stabilized the awnings, boarded and secured some windows and actually opened some of the storefront windows on the first floor. They have done this because every day they do not, they receive a fine.

The American Institute of Architects is pushing for a transfer of development rights ordinance, which allows property owners in height-restricted districts like Ybor to sell their potential, additional height to another developer. Sort of like a cap and trade system for buildings. (The author sits on a committee of the Tampa Bay Chapter of the AIA)

These incentives are in addition to a host of others, from an ad valorem tax exemption and the Interstate Revolving Trust Fund funded by the sale of relocated historic properties, to a low-interest loan program offered by the City’s office of historic preservation, a loan Less Thompson declined. The Ybor City Development Corporation offers a newly-implemented façade improvement program, which reimburses property owners for restoring architectural deals like balconies, windows and awnings.

Maybe it’s too late for the Ferlita Macaroni Factory. In spite today’s denial, the building may still be town down pending an appeal to City Council, which Thompson’s attorneys implied they would seek. Perhaps Thompson is right; maybe it is too expensive to restore his building.

But, at some point, this community has to ask itself if it really cares about its history and its historic buildings.

Today’s victory, after all, may be fleeting.