Letter to the Members of the County Planning Commission
Dear Members of the County Planning Commission:
My name is Katherine Grutas-Dunphy, and I serve as the CEO and co-owner of the Carnelian Assisted Living. I am writing today to respectfully urge you to deny the appeal submitted by Mr. Joshua Eckhaus and Ms. Jennifer Ostrander regarding our land use permit application county file #CDLP23-02046, which received approval by Mr. Ruben Hernandez, Zoning Administrator, on February 3, 2025.
The appeal filed by Mr. Eckhaus and Ms. Ostrander does not present any new information, substantive evidence, or legal basis to justify reversing the Zoning Administrator’s approval, nor the County Planning Staff’s recommendation in support of the project. Rather, it reflects a personal opposition to the project—not a procedural or factual flaw in the approval process.
An appeal rooted in disagreement cannot outweigh the broad community benefit, the intentional and considerate design of this expansion, and the five-decade legacy of responsible stewardship that define The Carnelian.
While on paper this may appear to be a straightforward expansion plan, for me and my family, this is a deeply personal endeavor. It is not just about growing our physical space. It is about honoring a 50-year legacy of caregiving, preserving a sanctuary of comfort and belonging, and ensuring that both the people who inspire us today and those we have yet to serve will always have a place to call home.
Let me share who this project is truly for.
It’s for Gladys, who passed away just a month ago. Gladys was more than a resident—she was a friend, advocate, and someone who believed in our mission wholeheartedly.
At 100 years old, she stood beside us at the Zoning Administrator’s hearing—something I’ll never forget. Her family’s relationship with the Carnelian spanned decades. She entrusted three loved ones to our care: first her brother, then her husband, and eventually Gladys chose to live with us herself. She had witnessed the full circle of life unfold within our walls, and she often reminded us that The Carnelian wasn’t just a senior home; it’s family.
On Thanksgiving, I wrote a letter to her and her children, Janet and Rob:
“Gladys, we have nothing but love and admiration for you. You’ve shown us how to cherish relationships and care for others in the truest sense. Taking care of people like you is what makes our work so meaningful and rewarding. Thank you for choosing us to share this journey with you.”
Gladys was our champion. She believed deeply in what we do—and her family continues to support us with the same unwavering spirit. I think of Gladys often as I persevere to move this project forward. She reminds me of exactly who and what we are fighting for.
This project is also for Bob, a gentleman who joined us in October after moving down from Seattle. Bob was living with Alzheimer’s, and while his time with us was brief, his impact was lasting.
Just before Halloween, our team had spent the day transforming our driveway into a whimsical pumpkin patch. Bob was captivated. As he admired the decorations, he gently gestured for me to follow him across the street. He didn’t say much, but he positioned me to stand beside him and look back at our work from a distance. “Now look”, he said. And I did.
From across the street, I saw it differently—more fully. The colors, the scale, the joy—it took my breath away. In that quiet moment, Bob helped me realize something I hadn’t seen before: when you’re in the middle of the work, you can miss the beauty of what you’re creating.
Sometimes, you must step back to truly take it all in.
Bob passed away in March, but I carry that moment with me. He gave me a gift—a new lens. A reminder to pause, look up, and see the bigger picture. Bob’s quiet wisdom stays with me as we move this project forward—as we aspire for growth to remember and appreciate what we’ve already created, who it’s for, and why this mission matters.
This expansion is also for Guy, who toured the Carnelian last week for his wife, Cynthia. Cynthia spent her life as a compassionate physician, serving families affected by HIV. Today, at just 67 years old, she is facing early-onset Alzheimer’s. Guy and I walked the houses and the garden together. We talked, not just about care plans and room options, but about what it means to walk alongside someone you love through such a heartbreaking diagnosis.
After his visit, he sent me this thank you note:
"You opened my eyes and heart to a better way forward. It is my hope that you will welcome Cynthia and me into your community. Thank you for what you and your family have created. Very impressive."
Guy and Cynthia have since joined our growing waitlist. Though they haven’t moved in yet, we are already holding space for them—for their future, their peace of mind, and their sense of belonging. This expansion ensures that when families like theirs are ready, there will be a place waiting. Not just rooms for care, but a place of refuge— one filled with dignity, comfort, and hope during life’s most difficult moments.
And then there’s June, a vibrant 90-year-old woman who recently visited with her son and daughter. She toured our home, enjoyed lunch in the garden, and as she sat with the sun warming her face, she said, “I could spend hours out here.” Before she left, she looked me in the eye and said, “Katherine, put me at the top of your list.”
These are not just names—they are lives woven into the heart of The Carnelian. Their life, their stories, and their hope are the reason we do this work—and the reason we must do more.
The Carnelian has been in this neighborhood since 1973—long before many of the surrounding homes were built. In truth, the neighborhood grew around us. Some have raised concerns that we are now the largest senior home in a residential neighborhood. But I ask— why is that a problem? Shouldn't we be proud that this neighborhood is home to a longstanding community that cares so deeply for its elders?
The opposition have expressed concerns that our expansion is too large, too commercial, too disruptive. But respectfully, I ask—what is so overwhelming about making room for 12 more seniors to live quietly, surrounded by nature, and the people they love? What is so commercial about a 90-year-old woman finding peace in a garden or a devoted husband trying to make the transition gentle for his wife? What is so disruptive about a walk through the pumpkins with someone slowly losing their memory?
To say that The Carnelian is incompatible with the neighborhood is to ignore the fact that we’ve operated within it for over five decades—quietly, respectfully, and in harmony with our neighbors. We are not proposing a change in use. We are simply extending our ability to serve. Contrary to claims of commercial overreach, we are not introducing a new business—we are enhancing an existing home. This not a shopping center or a hotel. It is a home. Our presence is not an imposition—if anything, we’re trying to restore a deeply human approach to eldercare—bringing it back into the heart of the community, where it belongs.
This expansion is modest and respectfully designed. Our seniors no longer drive, and their families come in waves, not crowds. Yes, more care staff will be needed, but they will park respectfully, just as they always have. We’re not asking to disrupt a neighborhood. We’re asking to serve it.
Some have argued that our expansion will negatively impact surrounding property values. However, data simply doesn’t support this claim. Reputable studies consistently show that well- run, thoughtfully maintained care communities like The Carnelian do not diminish nearby home values. And if our presence truly had such an effect, then those who have purchased their homes near us years ago would have done so at a “discounted” price—meaning they’ve already benefited from our long-standing existence in the neighborhood. To now suggest that our continued presence or this modest expansion, poses a threat feels less like a concern grounded in fact and more like an effort to shape public sentiment through fear and misinformation. That’s not only misleading—it’s wrong. The Carnelian is, and has always been, an asset to this community—not the liability the opposition claims it to be.
It’s easy to assume that any development is driven by profit. But no one takes on a project they cannot financially sustain. If our motive were purely financial, the simplest choice would be to do nothing. We could preserve the status quo, avoid the cost, effort, and scrutiny of expansion, and wait to sell in the future. But my brothers and I have chosen the harder path—the one rooted in purpose.
We’ve built our careers challenging the status quo and investing not just our time and resources, but our hearts, into continuing the legacy of care our grandmother began over five decades ago. We will continue to reinvest in our people, in our programs, and in the families who trust us with their loved ones. This expansion isn’t about short-term gain—it’s about securing The Carnelian’s future so it can continue serving this community for the next 50 years and beyond.
That’s not opportunism. That’s stewardship. And we take that responsibility seriously.
This expansion is for the people who inspire us. At its core, our work is rooted in relationships. We are not just a name on a sign. We are a home built on trust, love, and a deep commitment to doing things differently. This project isn’t simply about increasing our footprint—it’s about deepening our impact. It’s about honoring the legacy of a woman who, over fifty years ago, believed in care, in community, and in creating something better. She believed in this neighborhood and what it could mean for the seniors she loved. This expansion is our way of keeping that promise.
This is a legacy project. It’s about making space—for more love, more care, more dignity, and more hope. It’s for the Gladyses and Bobs we’ve known and cherished. It’s for the Guys and Junes we have yet to welcome. It’s for the families who are quietly praying that, when their time of need comes, a place like The Carnelian will still be here.
We ask our community to consider the scale of the benefit—just 12 more seniors gaining access to high-quality care in a safe, nurturing environment. These aren’t strangers. They are the very people who helped shape this neighborhood—the ones who built the homes we now live in, raised families here, and contributed to its character and charm.
To deny them the chance to return to a familiar, peaceful setting in their final years doesn’t feel like progress—it feels like forgetting.
The Carnelian is a living, breathing community rooted in service, dignity, and purpose. We are not just preserving a building—we are stewarding something truly special. We respectfully ask that you uphold the thoughtful work already completed by the County Planning Staff and Zoning Administrator and allow this modest but meaningful expansion to move forward.
Please deny the appeal filed by Mr. Eckhaus and Ms. Ostrander, and let this project continue—for the sake of our aging loved ones, for the people who built this neighborhood, and in service to those who hope to come home to it once more.
Thank you for your time, understanding, and consideration of this project. We appreciate you and the entire planning committee for your time and efforts on our behalf.
Respectfully,
Katherine Grutas-Dunphy