Judith Eden, zoning visionary, dies at 61

WHEN JUDITH EDEN perceived a threat to Philadelphia - proliferating billboards, unsightly parking lots, proposed riverboat gambling, cell-phone towers, restaurant additions - she had the skills and the clout to fight it.

A zoning attorney and civic activist with a dry wit, a flair for design and a generous heart, she played a significant role in Center City's transformation. Partly due to her efforts, the city today boasts sidewalk cafes instead of buildings extending beyond their boundaries, and stately iron railings with brick pillars replacing chain-link fences around parking lots.

Judith Shuman Eden, a small-town girl from the Midwest whose love affair with her adopted city made her a powerful and influential figure in zoning and the arts, died of cancer yesterday at Pennsylvania Hospital. She was 61 and lived in Center City.

"Because of her knowledge of law and of zoning, and her ability to really make things happen, people had tremendous respect for her opinion on things," said Mary Tracy, executive director of the Society Created to Reduce Urban Blight, an anti-billboard group that Judith co-founded in 1990.

"No one has any idea of how much Judith has done in her quiet, behind-the-scenes way."

In the 1980s and '90s, as zoning chair of the Center City Residents Association, Judith devoted years to negotiating an agreement with Graduate Hospital to beautify nearby parking lots, resulting in a new standard for Center City. She also led a successful push for first-floor retail space in parking garages.

In October 2001, her activism spurred then-Mayor John F. Street to change course and veto a City Council bill that would have limited the right to appeal land-use decisions. The bill had been intended partly to protect the billboard industry from lawsuits filed by SCRUB, which had stopped billboards in six Commonwealth Court cases.

"It's a great day for all the people of Philadelphia," Judith, also a Democratic committeewoman, said at the time. "Zoning is at the heart of every civic organization, and this was an attack. "

By 2003, Judith's reputation prompted the Coalition of Philadelphia Neighborhood Associations to include her on a list of six people it urged Street to appoint to an opening on the Zoning Board of Adjustment.

Street chose Judith.

"Now that is a surprise," Inquirer columnist Tom Ferrick Jr. wrote at the time. "Judith is the scourge of the Zoning Board. The woman on the other side of the table who gives them nothing but grief.

"But the neighborhood groups were clamoring for someone on the board who knew about, you know . . . zoning. And design. And planning. And didn't curtsy whenever a developer passed by. And that's Judith."

In January, Mayor Nutter appointed her to the Zoning Code Commission so that she could continue to help shape Philadelphia.

"I call it the instant-gratification city," Judith told the Daily News a few days before she died. "You come here and you realize that Philadelphia is such a great place to live. You can walk in Center City from river to river, and see such an array of architectural treasures as there is literally nowhere else in the world."

She was born in West Lafayette, Ind. Her father relocated the family to Defiance, Ohio, and she graduated from high school there in 1965.

But she yearned for more than Defiance offered.

She enrolled in Russian studies at the University of Cincinnati, graduating in 1969. In a Russian class there in 1966, she befriended a classmate, Avi Eden. Judith had another boyfriend at the time, but Avi had his own plans.

"My strategy was to sit next to the prettiest girl and offer to tutor her, but it didn't work because she was smarter than I was," Avi recalled. "So we became friends, I went to Israel for a year, and when I came back we started to date."

They moved to the Boston area for law school, graduating in 1972 - Avi from Harvard and Judith from Boston University. They decided to marry.

The young couple moved to Philadelphia. They plunged into civic life, and filled their home with the work of young local artists. Some, like Virgil Marti and Stuart Netsky, would later become nationally known.

The Edens' living room became a salon peopled by a steady parade of artists, writers and intellectuals - many of whom ended up moving in.

Patrick J. Egan, an assistant professor of politics at New York University, lived in the Eden home for two summers when he was a graduate student.

"I called Judith asking if she knew anyone willing to sublet an apartment for a few months," Egan said. "She surprised me by responding, 'Why don't you just come live with us?'

"Life with Judith Eden could be intimidating at first. You'd walk into the living room where she was sitting amidst piles of newspapers and magazines - and then she'd just start to interrogate you. She wanted to know about everything, and she was whip-smart and very opinionated.

"But once you'd proven your mettle with her, she showered you with this fierce, loyal love that could only be called maternal. At the Edens' encouragement, I kept a key to their front door for years afterward. Like so many others, I was part of the extended family."

Judith was active in many civic organizations and causes, including: the Print Center, the Franklin Inn Club, MANNA, the AIDS Fund, the Liberty City Democratic Club, the Mural Arts Program, the Philly Fringe arts festival, the board of the Center City District, and the advisory board of the Enchantment Theatre Company.

"She was such an inspiration to all of us women," said Colleen Puckett, founder and ex-president of the Coalition of Philadelphia Neighborhood Associations. "Because she was such a feminist but she loved to dress. She always had these funky, elegant glasses, was always well put-together, was very elegant but quirky, with a sense of humor. She had the driest sense of humor."

Judith wanted it known that she died wearing nightwear from her lifelong collection of novelty pajamas depicting travel, holidays and other themes.

In addition to her husband, she is survived by two sons, Amiram, editor-in-chief of the Jewish Telegraphic Agency, and Jacob; a daughter, Carlie Seltzer; her parents, Richard and Marion Shuman; a sister, Rebecca Shuman; a brother, Chuck Shuman; and four grandchildren.

Services: Sunday at Goldstein's Raphael Sacks on North Broad Street. Final arrangements are incomplete. Donations, in lieu of flowers, should be made to the Mural Arts Program, SCRUB or Center City Eruv Corp. *