outdoor living 101

John Hawley
Apr 1, 2025
With millions in unpaid fines tied to neglected historic buildings, Jacksonville is moving toward a more enforceable preservation policy.
As gleaming towers rise across downtown Jacksonville, a quieter, more fragile part of the city’s landscape is crumbling—one neglected building at a time.
In neighborhoods like Springfield, Riverside, Avondale, and the St. Johns Quarter, historic homes and early commercial buildings are falling into such disrepair that demolition becomes the only legal option. In many cases, these properties have been allowed to decay over years, even decades—a process known in preservation circles as “demolition by neglect.”
It’s a slow erosion of Jacksonville’s architectural and cultural fabric—and one the city is now trying to stop.
A New Policy Direction
In 2023, the City of Jacksonville’s Historic Preservation Commission launched a Demolition by Neglect Task Force, responding to growing concern about the number of historic structures at risk. Chaired by Commissioner Bill Hoff, the task force released its final report earlier this year, outlining 19 specific recommendations to address the issue head-on.
Among them: create a scored matrix to identify high-risk properties, maintain a public list of buildings with outstanding violations, and reassert the city’s right to foreclose on owners who fail to maintain historic structures—something Jacksonville hasn’t done since 2014.
Perhaps most notably, the task force recommends integrating fines and liens related to neglect into the non-ad valorem tax rolls, closing a loophole that has left the city with more than $190 million in unpaid penalties tied to historic properties.
“We believe some type of consequence with teeth has to be implemented,” Hoff told the Jacksonville Business Journal. “When that happens, we think owners will take note.”

A Cautionary Tale from St. Augustine
Just 40 miles to the south, the city of St. Augustine offers a case study in what can happen when procedures fail to prevent—or even accelerate—the loss of historic fabric.
In June 2024, a 136-year-old home at 11 Bridge Street, located in the city’s downtown historic district, was demolished under an emergency order. The building’s owner had long struggled with structural issues and sold the property with demolition included as a condition of the sale.
A private structural engineer deemed the home in danger of collapse, and the city’s building official issued a permit without requiring public hearings or a formal review by the Historic Architectural Review Board (HARB)—a decision that sparked immediate backlash.
“It just seems ridiculous to me that house was demoed,” said City Commissioner Cynthia Garris at the time. Preservation advocates argued that the home was restorable and that city officials should have sought a second opinion or explored stabilization options.
Documents later revealed that while internal discussions took place, no mechanism existed to formally involve HARB or to dispute the structural findings once emergency demolition was approved. The case has since prompted renewed calls for transparency and policy reform in St. Augustine.
State Law Tilts Toward Demolition
As Jacksonville and St. Augustine fine-tune their preservation policies, state lawmakers in Tallahassee have moved in a different direction.
In 2024, Florida passed legislation that makes it easier to demolish aging coastal buildings, many of which are historic but lack national-level designation. Under the new law, if a building is nonconforming with FEMA elevation standards, deemed unsafe by a municipal official, or already under demolition order, it can be razed with administrative approval only—bypassing historic boards and public input.
While some protections remain for buildings on the National Register of Historic Places or those in historic districts listed before 2000, structures with only local designation are now at greater risk.
Critics argue the law incentivizes owners to neglect their properties in order to fast-track redevelopment.
“This bill helps because now [property owners] can demolish instead of trying to figure out how to rehab a building that is 50 or 60 years old,” said Keith Poliakoff, a land use attorney who represents developers. “It allows a developer to get rid of the red tape.”
But for preservation advocates, the consequences are stark.
“This legislation allows the destruction of valuable historic assets that will never be replaced,” said Miami Beach Commissioner Alex Fernandez. “It undermines decades of preservation work.”
Navigating the Tensions Ahead
Back in Jacksonville, the challenge now is to act on the task force’s recommendations and find the political and administrative will to implement change. The plan calls for partnerships with groups like the Jacksonville Community Land Trust to take over neglected properties and restore them. It also proposes using civil penalties collected from within historic districts to seed a revolving loan fund for lower-income homeowners to make repairs.
The city is currently pursuing foreclosure on the long-neglected Laura Street Trio, a set of iconic downtown buildings seen as a bellwether for preservation enforcement.
Meanwhile, state law remains a complicating factor. Florida caps local fines for property maintenance violations at $5,000, a threshold that limits deterrence. And with the new coastal demolition law in place, local governments have fewer tools to intervene in redevelopment decisions—particularly in flood-prone areas.
For cities like Jacksonville, this means the path forward will require not only stronger local policies but also sustained public support and creative legal and financial strategies.
“Demolition by neglect is not just a technical issue,” Hoff said. “It’s about what kind of city we want to be, and whether we value our past enough to preserve it.”

