Random Thoughts Flooding is plainly a way of life

Flooding is plainly a way of life

JR BALL

HERE’S SOME HARSH truth: The Baton Rouge region will never solve its long-standing and ever-worsening drainage and flood problems. I don’t care how many billions in federal tax dollars Rep. Garret Graves and Louisiana’s congressional delegation hurl our way.

Sorry to be such a Debbie Downer.

Go ahead, be optimistic all you want, but far too many of us are destined to see our homes and businesses swamped by the ravages of an increasingly violent Mother Nature. No matter how many bold pontifications emanate from Mayor Sharon Weston Broome, who claims help is a mere three or four studies away.

Make no mistake, everyone in the Capital Region, from parish presidents on down, is universal in declaring an ardent desire to turn the tide on climate change and mitigate the damage wreaked by storm after flooding storm.

But—and this is the part that really matters—none of us want to do the things necessary to prevent us from becoming the disaster known as Waterworld.

Where to begin?

In Baton Rouge, way too many of us want nothing to do with the racially mixed, economically diverse high ground, preferring to sprawl to the suburban, floodprone lowlands. With the semidry land pretty much spoken for, our quest for that faux French Country house or gated mega-mansion is taking us deeper into the floodplain.

Real estate developers, chasing demand and loving the higher profit margins that come from building on cheaper—albeit soggier—land, elevate lots as well as build retention and detention ponds to kinda, sorta protect the floodplain homes and businesses in their developments. Their concern for how all this brick, stucco and HardiePlank impacts stormwater flow in the surrounding area? Not so much.

Neighboring folks—who could not care less about the adverse water flow effects created by their home or subdivision—routinely complain about this whenever a developer seeks approval for a floodplain project. Those cries, however, pretty much always fall on deaf regulatory ears. If some do-gooder council member has the stones to suggest stiffer rules—as Rowdy Gaudet recently discovered—those are quickly crushed by the financial and political hammer of the building community.

We hear you, developers. Yes, the rules are more stringent than 20 years ago. And sure, those fountained retention ponds look fabulous nestled along the narrow strips of elevated land containing your homebuilding handiwork, but who’s maintaining them so those watery pits can keep doing their job?

The answer in many cases is no one. As problematic, government regulators, citing a lack of money to do anything anyway, seem not to care.

A modest proposal: Developers should be financially on the hook for the first five or 10 years; after that, a mandatory HOA where floodplain residents generate the necessary dollars to maintain the ponds. Neighborhood residents routinely create taxing districts to fund bonus crime protection and beautification projects. What’s the problem with demanding essentially the same thing from those voluntarily tempting fate by living in a high flood-risk area?

It gets worse.

Cheap flood insurance— backed by taxpayers across America—makes it easier and more affordable to straggle onto land nature intended to remain vacant. Who cares if some rancher in Wyoming or mechanic in Michigan must pony up to help us rebuild every few years? The heartless folks at FEMA, suggesting those who roll the dice assume more financial risk, are this month increasing rates. Wanting to slow FEMA’s roll, reelection-seeking congressional members from states that tend to flood, like ours, are working overtime to kibosh the proposal.

But, hey, Louisiana is already a welfare state, so the big deal is what? At least we’re cracking down on those slackers in the food stamp program.

Compounding the disaster waiting to happen whenever the next supersoaker or worse event

hits is 1) it rains a lot here, 2) getting the resulting stormwater from where we don’t want it to where we do is done via a parishwide maze of drainage canals, lakes, streams, and bayous and 3) we’ve got a trash problem—compounded by garbage trucks that spill as much as they haul—that’s semi-masked because the frequent rainwater carries it out of immediate sight.

Unfortunately, that trash still exists, and it has a nasty habit of creating garbage dams throughout the system, blocking water flow that increases the flood risk. A group of passionate and knowledgeable citizen activists wants the mayor to implement a voluntary stormwater utility fee of less than $10 a month to address the problem, but the otherwise liberal Broome says no. Her solution? Ask residents to litter less.

Those tax-averse among us, who ironically tend to reside in the floodplain-saturated suburbs, argue the money already exists to keep the stormwater flowing. It’s simply being spent on other stuff. And, to a point, they’re right. The argument falls apart, however, courtesy of the greater good disaster known as independent taxing authorities.

Any casual reader of this space has heard my incessant beat of this drum, so I’ll spare everyone the headache. Yet, there’s no denying the unintended consequence of these dedicated taxes. Every year, no matter what else is going on, money for libraries, parks, mass transit and the Council on Aging are higher local funding priorities than stormwater drainage and flood control. Especially in East Baton Rouge, where passing a parishwide tax is nearly as futile as LSU’s defense against a crossing route. Speaking of disasters. The trifecta of 1) this state’s overly generous homestead exemption, 2) a local tax assessor who won’t do his job and 3) our love for low-density, sprawling growth means most new residential developments— especially those in the floodplain—don’t pay for themselves. Meaning, the rest of us are helping foot the bill to provide them with police, fire and infrastructure services.

Ain’t that a kick in the head?

We could go on, but this is getting depressing.

Besides, if we’re waiting on the Broome administration to get serious about the problem, then good luck. Nearly six years in, and this bunch still can’t get new parking meters installed around downtown. Seriously, if parking meters are an impossible dream, then what hope do we have on the hard stuff?

FILE PHOTO