|
http://www.guardian.co.uk/
Crooked Creek, Florida
Matthew Engel Friday October 24, 2003 The Guardian
The name Crooked Creek does it no justice at all. It sounds like a sandy
trickle - but this is a gorgeous, tree-fringed, full-blown river, a place
of breeze and birdsong and, that rarity in Florida, perfect peace. The
peace may not last much longer. Crooked Creek is scheduled to be the outer
edge of a huge new airport, the size of Tampa's, serving a community that
does not exist.
Crooked Creek is in the heart of the Panhandle, the part of Florida the
hordes don't know. It is the bit sticking out way to the west that voted
for George W Bush without arguments. Culturally, this is
Billy-Bob-loves-Charlene country; it has far more in common with the other
southern states than with Miami 600 miles away.
But the hordes are on their way. Undeveloped coastline in Florida is an
offence against the 21st century. Forgotten little resorts such as Panama
City Beach, long favoured by working-class families from Alabama and
Tennessee ("the Redneck Riviera," they call it) have seen property prices
double in a year. On the seafront, the two-storey Trade Winds motel has
been locked, ready for demolition, to be replaced by the 21-storey Trade
Winds condominiums.
This is probably unavoidable: the beaches are lovely, the climate
enticing; the Panhandle had to be discovered eventually. Some folks will
make money, none more so than the St Joe company (a friendly sounding name
for a $1.3bn outfit), which owns 40 miles of the coastal frontage, dating
back to its heyday as a paper-making company based in Port St Joe. But for
St Joe this is not enough. It also owns a million acres of pinewoods
stretching inland, and who wants to make the tediously small amounts of
money they could bring in these days? The company is no longer interested
in paper: its new chairman, Peter Rummell, came from Disney World.
St Joe wants to get the airport built first so it can serve as the
centrepiece of a series of large developments, including holiday homes,
retirement homes and golf courses. These will certainly provide jobs. Or,
as airport opponent Don Hodges puts it: "They'll bring in rich folks so
people here can fold sheets for them." Yet the existing airport in Panama
City, convenient for the coast but not for St Joe's million acres, only
has 500 passengers a day.
Allegations of political influence are everywhere. Governor Jeb Bush came
over to try to push the scheme; even his brother has muttered a favourable
word. Such planning constraints as there are in this part of Florida are
being loosened, and the local council has resisted plans to have a
referendum.
"This is not on a fast-track basis, it's on a bullet-train basis," says a
retired air traffic controller, Art Stewart. The allegations are familiar:
St Joe is manipulating planning law to ensure the taxpayer bears the cost
of the airport. "I've heard them say it's a partnership," says Stewart.
"St Joe is the profit-partner. The taxpayer puts up the money."
"This whole area of Florida is 20-25 years behind," says Jerry Ray, senior
vice-president of the company. "Change is coming to this region. We have
the opportunity to do it right. People will have better places to live, to
work and to play." Work folding sheets? "That's silly," says Ray.
St Joe is reinventing the whole area. It is trying to abolish the word
"panhandle" and now calls the area "Florida's Great North-West".
Panhandling is, of course, American slang for begging. Some whisper that
the name Crooked Creek may also be considered too embarrassing to last.
... JHe, 10/25/03
|