Nancy Smith

The farm of Elizabeth C. "Nancy" Smith -- almost 300 acres of undeveloped land in the middle of Columbia along Route 175 -- is worth almost $8 million, according to an appraisal, but the fate of the land remains uncertain.Smith, who never married and had no children, died in February at age 82 without a will, leaving dozens of distant relatives, preservationists and developers eyeing her land.According to the appraisal by Lipman Frizzell & Mitchell of Lutherville at the request of Baltimore attorney Forrest F. Bramble Jr., who represents the land's probable heirs, if the three parcels that constitute the Smith estate are developed, more than 200 housing units could be built on the land.

The farm of Elizabeth C. "Nancy" Smith -- almost 300 acres of undeveloped land in the middle of Columbia along Route 175 -- is worth almost $8 million, according to an appraisal, but the fate of the land remains uncertain.Smith, who never married and had no children, died in February at age 82 without a will, leaving dozens of distant relatives, preservationists and developers eyeing her land.According to the appraisal by Lipman Frizzell & Mitchell of Lutherville at the request of Baltimore attorney Forrest F. Bramble Jr., who represents the land's probable heirs, if the three parcels that constitute the Smith estate are developed, more than 200 housing units could be built on the land.

Carl Easterwood paid $400 yesterday for a rusted pile of golf clubs, covered with mothballs and dust. But inside a pocket of the faded bag was a 1905 Scottish golf ball -- worth an estimated $400 to $500.The ball was among the 80 items auctioned yesterday in Towson from the estate of recluse Elizabeth C. "Nancy" Smith, who died in February. She was the owner of 300 acres of undeveloped farmland in the middle of east Columbia, land now sought by some of her relatives, commercial developers and preservationists.

C An auction to sell the goods of the reclusive Elizabeth C. "Nancy" Smith -- the owner of 300 acres of undeveloped farmland in the middle of Columbia, who died in February -- has been scheduled May 18 and 19.The sale will be held at the Towson auction company, Alex Cooper's, beginning at 10 a.m. each day. Though a complete inventory is not available, china, jewelry, furniture and paintings are among the items that will be auctioned.Smith's home -- dubbed Bland-air for Theodorick Bland, a 19th century politician and judge who once owned it -- had become rundown over the years, said friends and associates, though Smith's lawyers put the worth of her assets, excluding real estate, at $4.5 million.

By all accounts, Elizabeth C. "Nancy" Smith was eccentric.She once took an ailing cow to the vet in her powder-blue 1970 Volkswagen bug. She fired shots at a school official who trespassed on her land. She got a $149,000 check from the state in 1972 -- but never cashed it.Some preservationists and planners say the 82-year-old recluse had to have been irrational not to arrange for her long-stated goal: long-term protection for her 300 acres of undeveloped farmland straddling Route 175 in the middle of east Columbia.

SURE, IT WOULD be nice to preserve Elizabeth C. Smith's "jewel in the middle of Columbia" as a park or farmland. A rural oasis in the core of a semi-urban community appeals to the heart.But saving every acre is not necessarily the smartest option.It may be smarter to develop part of the 300 acres. At the very least, it would be "smart growth."The late "Nancy" Smith's beloved farm is part of Howard County's water and sewer district and is served by other infrastructure, including Route 175, which bisects the property.

In an article in Tuesday's Howard County edition of The Sun, Rupert Friday, a planner in the Maryland Office of Planning, was incorrectly quoted. In reference to the future of Elizabeth C. "Nancy" Smith's property in Columbia, he said: "I'm sure there are sharp land-use attorneys who are already knocking on the heirs' doors after the place."The Sun regrets the error.State and local officials launched a belated effort yesterday to protect from development 300 acres of farmland in the middle of east Columbia along Route 175.About a dozen state legislators, environmentalists, preservationists and officials from Howard County gathered in Annapolis for the first meeting of a hastily formed task force charged with finding options on how to keep commercial interests from gaining hold of the land.

In an article in Tuesday's Howard County edition of The Sun, Rupert Friday, a planner in the Maryland Office of Planning, was incorrectly quoted. In reference to the future of Elizabeth C. "Nancy" Smith's property in Columbia, he said: "I'm sure there are sharp land-use attorneys who are already knocking on the heirs' doors after the place."The Sun regrets the error.State and local officials launched a belated effort yesterday to protect from development 300 acres of farmland in the middle of east Columbia along Route 175.About a dozen state legislators, environmentalists, preservationists and officials from Howard County gathered in Annapolis for the first meeting of a hastily formed task force charged with finding options on how to keep commercial interests from getting the land.

Eighty-two-year-old recluse Elizabeth C. "Nancy" Smith was buried last week without a will -- leaving the future of Columbia's largest tract of undeveloped land up for grabs.The bulk of Smith's multimillion-dollar estate is 300 acres of much-sought farmland straddling Route 175 adjacent to several east Columbia neighborhoods. The county planning chief, Joe Rutter, calls the land -- worth at least $15 million -- "the jewel in the middle of Columbia.""It's a hole in the middle of Columbia," Rutter said.

Blandair seems a forgotten place.Vines curl around the old mansion's red bricks and its black-shuttered windows. Its once-proud white portico sags to one side on rotted timbers above a vine-choked front door.The home of 81-year-old recluse Elizabeth C. "Nancy" Smith -- on 300 acres of undeveloped land near the heart of Columbia -- is the subject of intense disagreement between county officials and preservationists about how best to protect the parcel from development.Suspicious of government and conservation groups alike, Miss Smith, who still lives at Blandair, adamantly refuses to make any public arrangements with either of them to preserve the land when she dies.