15 years later, McEuen Field fight still echoes in Coeur d'Alene

Then: the night McEuen Field turned into a citywide test

A crowd of about 300 people packed the Coeur d'Alene City Council meeting room and stayed nearly three hours to fight over McEuen Field. The council still moved ahead, voting 5-1 to adopt the McEuen Park master plan on May 24, 2011, and that decision hardened a dispute that quickly became one of the most emotional civic fights in modern Coeur d'Alene history.

The vote itself showed how sharply the issue divided City Hall. Support came from Mike Kennedy, John Bruning, Al Hassell, Woody McEvers, and Deanna Goodlander. Mayor Sandi Bloem did not vote, because the mayor only breaks a tie. In a separate action that same night, the council unanimously removed the recommended improvements to Tubbs Hill and sent that issue to the parks and recreation commission, a reminder that even as the city advanced one major change, it pulled back from another.

The arguments were about more than landscaping. Critics said the plan was too expensive, feared it was turning Coeur d'Alene into something closer to a theme-park destination, and argued that the project betrayed community values. Supporters saw a chance to remake a downtown waterfront asset into a more usable civic space. Planning for major changes had surfaced long before the vote, first appearing in a 1997 citywide economic enhancement strategy, which helps explain why the final clash felt less like a single park proposal and more like a long-delayed referendum on the city's direction.

The backlash that followed

The political consequences spread well beyond the council chamber. A recall drive aimed at Sandi Bloem, Mike Kennedy, Woody McEvers, and Deanna Goodlander launched in April 2012, showing how deeply the park fight had penetrated local politics. It failed in June 2012 when organizers did not submit enough signatures to force a recall election, but the effort still left a mark: the controversy had moved from a land-use dispute into a direct challenge to the city's leadership.

That is what makes McEuen such a useful case study for current development fights in Kootenai County. The issue was never only about a park design. It became a measure of whether residents believed City Hall was listening, whether elected officials could absorb public anger without backing away, and whether citizen activism could alter the outcome once a project reached a council vote. Some officials ultimately paid for the decision with their careers, and the bitterness lingered long after the signatures were counted.

What the city built instead

What emerged from the conflict was a much different place than the old field. City materials describe the rebuilt McEuen Park as a 20-acre, $20 million project anchored by an underground parking facility with 430 spaces. That garage opened up nearly three acres of parkland, while work also included expanded parking lots next to City Hall, Front Avenue upgrades, and a pedestrian promenade along Front Avenue.

The parking component was one of the fiercest points of dispute. A 2011 critique estimated Front Avenue parking at $7.0 million to $8.3 million, with related Front Avenue improvements at $1.2 million to $1.4 million. In the end, the final cost settled around $20 million, not the much larger figure opponents had feared, which changed the way the city framed the project after construction was complete.

The rebuilt park also became far more than a parking solution. City and visitor materials describe a destination with a natural amphitheater, pavilion, donor wall, grand plaza, waterfront promenade, paved trails, public art, a redesigned Veterans Memorial, an interactive playground, a dog park, basketball and tennis-pickleball courts, the Avista Pavilion, the Rotary Harbor House, the sea wall overlook, and a 4-acre grassy area. It also includes the city's largest playground, along with a splash pad and off-leash dog areas divided for small and large dogs.

A rededication on May 24, 2014, drew about 1,000 people, a striking turnout that underscored how fully the site had been absorbed into daily civic life. What had once been a flash point became one of downtown's signature public spaces, a place that now functions as both a park and a stage for ceremonies, gatherings, and family use.

How McEuen evolved beyond the original fight

The park's later additions show how public land can accumulate new meanings after the original argument fades. Lake City Development Corporation contributes 2 percent of its tax increment revenues to public art within its redevelopment districts, and the McEuen park fact sheet notes that the dog park, split into small and large dog areas, funded three of the park's six art pieces. That detail matters because it shows how redevelopment dollars, design choices, and civic identity became intertwined at the site.

McEuen also grew into a memorial landscape. The K27 memorial now honors Coeur d'Alene police Sgt. Greg Moore, who was killed in the line of duty on May 5, 2015. That addition deepened the park's role as a place for public memory, not just recreation, and further separated the rebuilt space from the combative politics that produced it.

Why the fight still matters now

Fifteen years later, McEuen Field still echoes because it changed the civic language of Coeur d'Alene. The battle taught local leaders that high-emotion land decisions can become tests of legitimacy, not just planning exercises. It also showed residents that turnout, signatures, and persistent organizing can force even deeply dug-in proposals into public view.

For current and future development fights, the lesson is plain. City Hall cannot assume that a technically sound project will be politically durable if people feel excluded, overruled, or rushed. At the same time, McEuen shows that a project can survive a bruising public fight and still become a lasting civic asset if the final result is visible, useful, and anchored in the public's daily life.