For months, the public conversation around the possible demolition or relocation of Dallas City Hall has centered on cost estimates, architectural history and competing visions for downtown’s future.
DW has watched the debate from a distance, listening to preservation advocates, city leaders, architects, employees and residents as they make their cases. At first glance, the issue can appear to be a downtown real-estate dispute or a debate over whether an aging building is worth saving. But as questions have grown around public money, public land, downtown disruption and the future of a civic space long used by residents, the issue has become harder to separate from the community.
For Micaela Watkins, a Dallas County precinct chair who has drawn attention online for her criticism of the City Hall process, the debate is ultimately about public trust, stewardship and whether residents—particularly those in underserved communities—are being meaningfully included in decisions that could reshape a major civic asset.
“I’m wanting City Hall to be preserved,” Watkins told DW. “But it’s not just about me wanting City Hall saved. It’s about me wanting the inhabitants of City Hall to be the people that deserve to be there.”
Watkins said she has become increasingly concerned by what she describes as inconsistent figures presented around the cost of repairing and maintaining the iconic I.M. Pei-designed building. While she emphasized that she is not a financial professional, Watkins said her work in property taxation has made her attentive to how public officials frame numbers and long-term costs.
“When you look at the bigger picture, we need to pay attention to the fact that the individuals that are supposed to be representing us are putting wool over our eyes and expecting us to just go with whatever they say,” Watkins said.
Her central criticism is not simply that repair estimates have changed. It is that Dallas residents, employees and other stakeholders have not been given a full, publicly accessible comparison of what each path would cost: restoring the existing building, relocating city operations, demolishing the structure and redeveloping the site.
In a March public debate, a credentialed architect warned City Council that the projected cost of demolishing City Hall may be severely understated. Referring to a comparable project in New York, the architect said the demolition budget for a building at 47 Vanderbilt Avenue ran 400% over projections because of the difficulty of dismantling its concrete structure. Dallas City Hall potentially presents an even more complex challenge. The building was constructed with shrinkage-control concrete, extensive reinforcement and post-tensioning—features that could make demolition more technically demanding, more disruptive and potentially more expensive than a conventional teardown.
“The New York Building at 47 and Vanderbilt … ran its demo budget by 400% because now we know how hard this concrete is,” the architect testified. “Unlike City Hall, it was not designed to work around a nuclear reactor with 13.2 million pounds of rebar and post-tensioning.”
The testimony reinforces Watkins’ central concern: Dallas residents have been repeatedly presented with the cost of restoring City Hall, but have not received an equally detailed, independently vetted accounting of demolition, debris removal, site remediation, temporary operations, relocation and the acquisition or construction of a replacement facility.
“You may have numbers for this, however convoluted they may be, but you haven’t given us numbers for a new location,” Watkins said. “Will we have to buy? Will we have to lease to own? Will we have property taxes that will have to be paid? Because right now we’re in a building that’s completely paid for.”
For Watkins, presenting the cost of restoration without equally clear estimates for relocation or redevelopment leaves residents without the information needed to evaluate the city’s choices.
“These are numbers that are relevant because you’re throwing out a number as a scare tactic as to what would be necessary to preserve and restore this current City Hall building,” she said. “But you’ve given us no alternative number.”
Before Dallas treats demolition as the lower-cost alternative, Watkins said, the public deserves a complete, independently vetted estimate that includes the full lifecycle cost of leaving, dismantling, replacing and operating a new City Hall—not just the headline cost of repairing the current one. The City Hall debate, Watkins said, also raises broader questions about how Dallas maintains its public assets. She pointed to the need for consistent, long-term stewardship rather than allowing deferred maintenance to compound until officials present residents with costly, urgent choices. Watkins referenced other historic and public-facing facilities across Dallas as examples of why residents should ask how maintenance decisions are made before a crisis point is reached.
“What maintenance are you neglecting, or have they been neglecting long term for it to get to this point?” Watkins asked. “How do we guarantee that no matter where City Hall is relocated to, if it comes to that, are you going to maintain that building with positive stewardship?”
She added that any future City Hall site should come with a clear maintenance strategy so Dallas does not face the same dilemma again in a few decades.
“We shouldn’t have to keep going through this,” she said. “This just seems unnecessary and it could have been preventable.”
Watkins’ concerns about stewardship echo a June 16 letter from current and former City of Dallas employees urging Mayor Eric Johnson and City Council members to restore, rather than abandon, City Hall.
The letter describes 1500 Marilla St. not merely as an office building, but as a place where employees built careers, friendships and a shared connection to the city. Its authors argue that the building has remained a constant through changes in Dallas leadership and downtown development, calling City Hall an “irreplaceable space.” The employees also challenged the idea that a decision of this magnitude is being made on their behalf without their direct input.
“We keep reading in the news you are doing this for us, yet we’ve never been asked,” the letter states.
That concern closely tracks Watkins’ larger critique. She has argued that residents and stakeholders deserve a transparent, side-by-side accounting of restoration, relocation and redevelopment costs—not a process in which the public is asked to accept conclusions without access to the full financial and logistical picture.
The building’s architectural legacy has also drawn renewed attention. Li Chung Pei, the son of City Hall architect I.M. Pei, spoke with WFAA recently and urged Dallas leaders to preserve the building, calling it a vital part of Dallas history and one of his father’s important works. The preservation argument, then, has come from several directions: employees who say their voices have not been sought, residents who have called for repair and restoration, architects who have questioned the demolition calculus, and advocates who view the building as a defining civic landmark.
If she could reset the process, Watkins said she would delay a final decision until the next administration and require an independent assessment by outside experts with no ties to City Hall leadership, the city manager or members of the City Council.
“There needs to be multiple of those individuals that can do an unbiased survey, provide legitimate numbers, provide those numbers to the City Council and to the citizens in an open meeting, and then allow the necessary steps to follow,” she said. Watkins argued that public confidence has been weakened by the changing figures and the perception that major decisions are moving ahead before residents receive a full explanation of the available options.
“When the numbers have changed the way that they have, you can’t help but wonder what’s true, what’s fabricated, what’s accurate,” she said.
The testimony against demolition has not come from a single constituency. Architects have raised concerns about the building’s structural longevity and architectural significance. Current and former City employees have questioned why a decision framed as being made for them has moved forward without their meaningful input. Residents and preservation advocates have called for greater transparency. Watkins brings a different but complementary question to that coalition: What happens to the people who may not see City Hall as an architectural landmark, but will feel the disruption of its demolition?
Her focus is on the practical consequences for the downtown ecosystem—the people experiencing homelessness near service providers, small businesses and workers navigating construction disruptions, and residents whose faith in civic participation may weaken if major public decisions appear predetermined. That is where this story moves beyond concrete, design and downtown real estate. It becomes a question of whether Dallas’ largest civic decisions are being made with the people most affected at the center of the process.
For many Dallas residents, City Hall may feel distant from daily life. Watkins said that is precisely why the city must make the stakes clearer. She believes that a demolition project could have direct effects on people and businesses in the surrounding downtown area, including people experiencing homelessness who rely on nearby shelters and service providers.
“If you demolish that building, you have to keep in mind that around that area, that is where the predominant number of our homeless shelters and homeless resources are located. You shut down the circumference of City Hall for that demolition, you’re cutting into the very minimal space that they already have.”
Watkins noted that shelters are not open around the clock, meaning people who rely on those services may spend time outdoors near the area. A major construction or demolition operation, she said, could further reduce already limited space and increase displacement pressures.
She also warned that prolonged street closures, traffic disruptions and construction activity could affect nearby small businesses, hotels and workers.
“This is going to be an L for business owners in that area, for hoteliers in that area, and it’s going to be a displacement to our homeless community,” Watkins said. Her argument is that the discussion cannot remain limited to preservation versus demolition. It must also account for logistics, neighborhood disruption, public access and the people who depend on downtown’s existing ecosystem.
“People are so worried about the sentimental aspect of it that they’re not thinking about the logistical aspects of it,” Watkins said. “This affects many, many, many communities if it comes to demolition.” Watkins said the consequences of an opaque process extend beyond the City Hall building itself. When residents believe decisions are made before their input is considered, she said, public participation declines.
“City Council doesn’t take us seriously,” Watkins said. “I think that they want us to feel that our voices matter in a way that they don’t, because I feel that they’ve already made up their minds on this topic.” She said residents who take time away from work to attend meetings or offer public comment deserve clear information and a genuine opportunity to shape the outcome.
“The main thing about that is it kills democracy,” Watkins said. “It kills the process. And it ruins people’s faith in public service and in civic duty and wanting to vote.”
For Watkins, the issue remains larger than a building’s fate. It is a test of whether Dallas leaders will make a transparent, evidence-based decision—and whether the people who work in City Hall, rely on downtown services, protest on its plaza and live with the consequences of public policy will have genuine power in shaping it.
“You take away people’s ability to believe in the people that represent them,” Watkins said, “then you’re taking away their desire to show up and vote for anyone.”
