EDITOR'S NOTE: Ellen Sugarman is a nationally known investigative reporter. She has given KWTN permission to serialize her new book about environmental terrorism in the Florida Keys. Here is a synopsis of previous chapters. For complete chapters, see our website: www.kwtn.com.
In Chapter 1, officials from County Code Enforcement, the Sheriff's Office and the Florida Marine Patrol— off-duty and in civilian clothes, but armed— pay an unofficial visit to property owners on Little Knockemdown Key. A few days later, the owners were cited, ordering them to tear down unpermitted structures— even though many of those structures had been there prior to the law requiring permitting.
In Chapter 2, Sugarman used Fantasy Fest as a backdrop to introduce us to her cast of characters. In Chapter 3, investigative reporter Kate Anderson hears about an allegfed conspiracy by multiple government agencies to take over private property in the Keys. In Chapter 4, she starts to look into it.
Chapter 5: Officials "raid" Little Torch Key. Chapter 6: Government officials charge a Sugarloaf resident with environmental infractions and, in Chapter 7, they take his house. Chapters 8 and 9: Kate's review of Code Enforcement records seem to reveal a pattern of deceit. Chapter 10: A lawyer tells a property owner, in jail on seemingly trumped up environmental charges, that he can get him off if he will sell his property cheap to the Conservation League.
In Chapter 11, Kate shares her suspicians with the editor of a local newspaper . Chapter 12: The editor suggests that she take a close look at Rev. Clive Farrell and the Conservation League. Kate and a freind head down to Bahama Village to hear Farrell address a meeting of Last Chance. Chapter 13: The meeting. Chapter 14: Kate meets Clive Farrell and asks for an interview. Chapters 15 and 16: The interview.
Chapter 17: Another government raid. Chapter 18: Kate does her homework. Chapters 19 and 20: She attends a Code Enforcement meeting. Chapter 21 and 22: We get a peek inside a Steering Committee meeting of the Conservation League.
On Monday, Kate decided to drop in on some of the agencies and hear what various officials had to say. She picked three offices at random, County Code Enforcement, the State Department of Environmental Protection, and the Department of Community Affairs (which she'd heard people refer to as the `Department of Communist Affairs').
Her first interview was with Ricky Pinder. He finessed his way quite comfortably through everything she asked. Little Knockemdown? He represented the property owners as scofflaws, hiding behind ignorance of the law when they knew all along they were harming the environment. He sent a secretary for the files and went over each and every violation in meticulous detail. He was adamant about one thing— the cases on Little Knockemdown were solid, within the letter of the law. And the County was generous in the end to cut them all some slack. Did it have anything to do with the fact that Jimmy and Sue had secured legal representation? No way, absolutely not. Without the cost of an attorney, it would have all come out the same in the end.
What about Mr. Johnson? He was familiar with that situation, wasn't he? "Billy Ray? Sure I am. Now that one's a real pity. The boy just don't seem to understand the best thing he can do for himself is co-operate." Pinder shrugged and shook his head, and said he would have given anything to have seen Billy Ray spared all that grief. "Brought it on hisself, he's stubborn as a mule, that boy."
Then he repeated the drill, taking out a file and going over the violations. "Mrs. Anderson," he said, slipping into the Southern way of considering every woman a `Mrs.', "my office stands by these. Each and every one of them. Billy Ray Johnson just wasn't payin' enough attention. You see what I mean?"
He did allow as how the rules and regulations concerning the fragile Keys' environment could get a little "tricky" and "complex" for the average citizen to keep up with. Even a well-meaning fellow could misunderstand them and find hisself in violation of the law. When Kate suggested that the utter quagmire of regs was a minefield for the average citizen, he gave her that same easy grin and told her she had "a real way with words." And added, "You know, I really do enjoy reading your articles. I'm glad to oblige you, call on me anytime."
Kate didn't find agent Conners at the D.E.P. office, but the receptionist told her his assistant, Linda Belridge, was in and would she like to talk to her? Kate said, Sure and the woman picked up the phone and spoke into it. Moments later, a small strawberry blond with big horn-rimmed glasses, a pale green suit and sensible shoes that looked like they were the very thing for field work came down the hall.
She walked over to Kate and shook her hand. "I'm Linda Belridge, what can I do for you?" When Kate explained the purpose of her visit, the woman explained that she was second-in-command of the Monroe County D.E.P. office and would be glad to answer questions. Belridge took Kate into her office, offered her a chair, then sat down at her desk with a serious look on her face.
Yes, she was familiar with the Williams' case, "that was a sad sad story", but in fact, Dr. Williams had broken a number of serious regulations, so what were they to do? "It isn't our choice whether or not to prosecute," she explained. "But I can tell you, my boss personally tried and tried to negotiate with the doctor." She assured Kate that Mr. Conners was a very fair man.
"You know, let me tell you something., I want to confide in you. But please don't quote me," Ms. Belridge added in a conspiratorial tone, with a just-between-us-girls look. "May I call you Kate?" Kate nodded. "Well, I just wondered, have you ever met the Doctor?" Kate shook her head. "I thought so. The thing is, Dr. Paul has a serious attitude problem. You can take it from me." Kate waited for her to explain and kept quiet.
"I'll just put it this way, then I'm going to drop it," Linda added. "He was so recalcitrant in dealing with our office, why he brought everything on himself."
"I hear you," said Kate. When she asked Linda to explain what was going on with environmental regulations, overall, in the Keys— "Just give me your take on it, that's what I'm interested in, Linda. You seem to have a good perspective, I can see you're in the loop."
At that , Linda smiled and trotted out what appeared to be a canned speech about the fragile ecosystem and how it must be guarded aggressively. At Kate's prompting, she explained her job, as she saw it, as a guardian ship. A job that was much easier because of the seamless partnership her boss had forged with all sorts of other groups, both public and private.
"Who all have one thing in common, you understand. We're concerned about saving the land." Kate told her she understood.
Simon Gray, head of the D.C.A., was the one person who seemed leery when he granted Kate an interview. He interrupted her very first question about the County Land Use Plan, with one of his own. Did she intend to do a series of articles like the one he'd seen in the Miami News? Then he opened one of his desk drawers and pulled out a copy of the piece. Under different circumstances, Kate might have been flattered.
She said she was thinking about it and it would depend on whether or not she found more stories that would interest her readers. Which was partly the reason she was here. He settled back into his chair and nodded, indicating his readiness to continue. For starters, said Kate, could he explain, from the point of view of a landowner with an undeveloped piece of property here, the implications of the new land use rules?
Simon admitted that the land use regs were "complicated." Then he added, hedging. "You really have to take it case-by-case. Why don't you give me a for instance?" Kate ignored his suggestion and asked him to just give her some general things. "Like the diminished number of permits, especially on Big Pine and Little Torch."
"You understand, state law requires that all building in the county adhere to the General Plan, that comes all the way from Tallahassee," Gray informed her. "D.C.A. must enforce it, we're charged by the Cabinet to do so. A lot of people act like this is capricious on our part, believe me, we catch a lot of flack."
"What're some of the changes people ask about? Something that might be useful for my readers to know?"
"Let me see. Well, no development in wetlands. And of course, residential density on all unplatted acreage has been cut in half. And there is to be no more commercial development until the Moratorium is lifted . . ."
"How long will that be? Gray shrugged. "I don't make that decision, it's not up to me."
Kate asked how many residential permits were allowed. Gray said, "County wide? Eighty-eight." She asked about Big Pine. He answered, "Eight. Big Pine is a special case, you see. Because of the Key Deer. We have to prepare a Habitat Conservation plan for the Key Deer." Seeing her expression, he added, "Believe me, Miss Anderson. There are groups, 1000 Friends of Florida is one, who aren't satisfied with that. They want zero permits a year on Big Pine. Same with Little Torch."
Next, Kate asked him to explain the point system. "There's a point system for awarding permits throughout the County. A property owner is awarded negative points and positive points, accordingly. For example, negative points if there are more than one endangered species on his property. Then there are ways people can earn positive points toward a permit. "
Kate interrupted. "Like donating part of their property . . ."
". . .for conservation. That's right," he explained, nodding his head. "That's a very good way for people to earn points."
Driving home afterwards, Kate realized something odd about the three interviews. They were all so similar. When she asked the same generic questions, they gave the exact same answers. As if they'd been drilled or memorized the same script. It put her in mind of an old movie, `The Manchurian Candidate', where everyone involved in the mystery had been programmed to utter the very same sentence at a particular cue. Something she couldn't remember was the cue itself.
There was definitely something eerie about such disparate bureaucrats, from government agencies with such different missions, tag-teaming innocent people in the name of the environment. It was so, well, fascistic. She still had a real problem believing it was actually going on, she had to convince herself. Especially since the scenario was being played out in the laid-back, wildly democratic Florida Keys, a place synonymous with freedom and built on a pirate tradition. How on earth, she asked herself, could this ever come to be?
To be continued next week.
Willing Seller is a work of fiction. The events and characters portrayed are imaginary. Any resemblance to real people, living or dead, is coincidental.
Ellen Sugarman's writing has appeared in publications such as Newsday, Time, Vogue, Ms., Penthouse, New York Times Magazine, the San Francisco Chronicle, the Chicago Sun Times, and the Miami Herald's Tropic Magazine.
As a freelance television producer, she has worked with ABC, Fox News, A&E and the BBC.
Several years ago, she produced a segment on environmental terrorism in the Florida Keys for ABC's 20/20. Although scheduled to run several times, the show was ultimately killed, reportedly because of pressure from the Nature Conservancy.
The program did air in the Keys, however, after activist Peter Anderson was able to obtain a videotape of the show and paid for time to run it on local cable television.
Among a number of shocking revelations, the program documents that State Attorney Kirk Zuelch, while a member of the local Nature Conservancy board, offered to drop charges against property owners accused of environmental crimes if they would sell or give their land to the Nature Conservancy. Zuelch quickly resigned from the Nature Conservancy board after he was interviewed by 20/20.
Anderson encouraged viewers to tape the show when it ran on local TV. If you want to see this show, KWTN has a couple of loaner copies. Info: 292-2108.