If SEN. GALVANO's toll roads are built, might the resulting devastation of our land and wildlife needs to be named the "WILLIAM SAINT (SIC) GALVANO NATIONAL SACRIFICE AREA?"
Is GALVANO a coverup artist, as demonstrated by his behavior in a sexual harassment case where the victim was ostracized from future Florida Senate employment, spending $1.6 million on damages and lawyers fees, even suing EEOC! Read more on GALVANO's coverup of sexual harassment charges against State Senator Jack Latvala (see my January 22, 2019 Folio Weekly article here).
Query: Should we name "mistakes" and other environmental crises after those responsible, as in "FREEMAN'S FOLLY," after LEANNA SOPHIA AMARU FREEMAN's 91-93 Coquina Avenue deal.
Environmental depredations will begin to be remedied when we elect Democrats in 2020, from the Courthouse to the White House. Here's an article about one of them, involving unwanted toll roads foisted off by State Senate President WILLIAM SAINT GALVANO,
From SUN SENTINEL:
An unwelcome toll road shatters the peace of a charming Florida town | Steve Bousquet
By STEVE BOUSQUET
SOUTH FLORIDA SUN SENTINEL |
DEC 20, 2019 | 3:13 PM
| MONTICELLO
"No toll road" signs in North Florida's Jefferson County symbolize local opposition to a new toll road approved by the Republican Legislature.
"No toll road" signs in North Florida's Jefferson County symbolize local opposition to a new toll road approved by the Republican Legislature. (Steve Bousquet)
The quaint North Florida town of Monticello welcomes a visitor with peacefulness.
A few miles from the bustle of Interstate 10 sits rural Jefferson County with its rolling fields, antique shops, quail-hunting plantations and stately 19th-century homes with elegant wraparound porches.
A broad-shouldered county courthouse, designed to resemble Thomas Jefferson’s Monticello, dominates the center of town. It’s the only Florida courthouse encircled by a roundabout, connecting to U.S. 90 and the world beyond. There isn’t a single stop light in town, and just one caution light.
What Jefferson County does not have is noise and traffic, and a lot of people here like it that way. But their tranquility is threatened by the Suncoast Connector, a toll road conceived by Republican legislators and Gov. Ron DeSantis as the solution to the region’s problems.
In the paternalistic world of Tallahassee Knows Best, politicians — not transportation experts — decided that the lightly-used Suncoast Parkway should be extended to here from Crystal River, about 150 miles away. The yet-to-be determined corridor will impact seven counties through a swath of undeveloped Florida all the way to Jefferson to plan for future growth, with about 10 million more people expected by 2045.
A law (SB 7068) passed in the 2019 session says so, by the year 2030. Tallahassee promises a path to prosperity of tourists, jobs, water and sewer lines and internet access while creating a north-south hurricane evacuation route. That’s despite the state’s guidance, gleaned from painful experience, that people should stay off the roads and seek shelter close to home.
Regional task forces are holding forums on the connector and the two other planned roads: the extension of the Suncoast to Florida’s Turnpike in Wildwood, and another north-south road from Polk County to Collier near Naples.
But tiny Jefferson County, population about 14,000, is Ground Zero for toll-road resistance.
Residents share their frustrations on the Jefferson Against the Toll Road Facebook page. Dozens of groups formed a coalition called No Roads to Ruin. All over Monticello, "no toll road” signs share space with holiday decorations. Groups such as Tall Timbers warn the highway is a direct threat to land, water and local wildlife.
The County Commission recently voted to support the road by a vote of 3-to-2 after a contentious public hearing — hardly a ringing endorsement. Opposition to the road will be a litmus test in the 2020 local elections.
Kirk Reams, 42, the county court clerk and a recent Republican convert, is an eighth-generation Jefferson County resident who grew up hunting in the fields of nearby Lamont. Facing re-election, he does not support the Suncoast Connector.
“We’re like the final frontier. This is an attack on our way of life,” Reams said. “People are scared of change, and not knowing where the road is going is driving a lot of the fear.”
Doug Darling, a former executive at three state agencies and a job-creation adviser to former Gov. Rick Scott who lives in Jefferson County, said a lack of reliable information about the highway’s impact adds to the sense of suspicion and uncertainty.
Townspeople wonder if the road is a scheme to enrich a few wealthy, well-connected landowners, or a way to divert the area’s abundant supply of water to thirsty urban areas downstate.
It's not too late to stop 'toll roads to nowhere' | Paula Dockery »
The Suncoast Connector’s champion is Senate President Bill Galvano, R-Bradenton, who said this week in a round-table meeting with Capitol reporters that toll road opponents don’t have all the facts.
“We live in a state where 900 people a day are coming here to live ... We cannot continue to plan infrastructure in reverse. We have to get ahead of it,” Galvano said. “If you don’t have opponents, then you probably haven’t done anything really bold, as my friend Governor (Jeb) Bush used to say.”
Galvano will be out of office a year from now due to term limits. Jefferson County wonders who’ll be accountable to keep the state’s many promises about a road that wouldn’t be done for nearly a decade.
In a place where the first high school opened in 1832, even before Florida attained statehood, a sense of history runs deep.
Old-timers remember that when I-10 opened in the 1970s, it sucked all the local traffic off U.S. 90. Businesses suffered. The I-10 exit to Monticello has a lonely Hardee’s and three gas stations, hardly an example of economic vitality.
Mistrust of Tallahassee is rampant, and why shouldn’t it be? In 2012, residents had to mobilize to block an ill-conceived plan by Rick Scott’s administration to close down the state prison — a major employer in a county desperate for jobs.
Now it’s another battle. The campaign to prevent the Suncoast Connector is just beginning and it has a long way to go.
But what was it that the county’s namesake, Thomas Jefferson, once said?
“I hold it that a little rebellion now and then is a good thing,” he said.
Steve Bousquet is a Sun Sentinel columnist. Contact him at sbousquet@sunsentinel.com or (850) 567-2240.
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