“Who knows how long this will last

Now we’ve come so far, so fast

But, somewhere back there in the dust

That same small town in each of us

I need to remember this

So baby give me just one kiss

Come and take a long last look,

Before we say goodbye…”

— Don Henley, “The End of the Innocence”

Something about that old tune came back to haunt me this week when Hurricane Nicole’s fierce winds subsided and our worst fears were realized – “…armchair warriors often fail, and we’ve been poisoned by these fairytales, the lawyer’s dwell on small details, since daddy had to lie…”

Yeah.

One thing I learned during three-decades in municipal government is the bureaucracy must keep the boogeyman alive.  The golem that is always just around the corner – the specter that fuels training and equipment budgets, supports the reasoning for sitting on massive reserves, and is trotted out on non-election years to frighten constituents and anesthetize the pain of tax increases. 

But what happens when the monster comes to call? 

A “trial by fire” is a test of one’s ability to perform effectively under stress – to make timely and accurate decisions in a dynamic environment and quickly establish short, intermediate, and long-term goals – then work the plan and get every tool in the box working toward a solution without delay.    

Some theorize that the phrase alludes to the medieval practice of determining a person’s guilt by having them undergo a crucible, such as walking barefoot through a fire. It is also a painfully efficient way of exposing weakness and ineptitude when gale-force winds peel back the thin façade of competence of those we rely on when the chips are down.

By any metric, our first responders – area law enforcement officers, firefighters, and emergency medical personnel have acquitted themselves as true heroes during both Ian and Nicole – a testament to their dedication to the mission of serving and protecting. 

How our senior bureaucrats will respond to the challenge of recovery and mitigation remains to be seen. . .

In government and politics, these tests represent a critical time when elected and appointed officials must effectively coordinate the various arms of an unwieldy bureaucracy, live up to the hype and pomposity that elevated them to high office, and effectively protect life and property. 

It’s not Rocket Science. We write Comprehensive Emergency Management Plans well ahead of threats – when things are calm – an all-hazards approach so that we have a roadmap for response and recovery operations post-incident.

Following the one/two punch of Hurricanes Ian and Nicole, residents on both sides of Volusia’s “palmetto curtain” are beginning to question whether Volusia County officials have done everything possible to mitigate our vulnerability to natural disasters – and effectively respond to the grave and ongoing threat to homes and high-rise condominiums – some of which have already collapsed into the sea.

As politicians perversely pose for photo-ops with damaged homes as a backdrop – and some senior government officials step down from the Ivory Tower of Power to tour the devastation, get a little dust on the spit-shine, (and have their picture taken doing it) – frustration increases, and tempers are rightfully beginning to rise.  

Unfortunately, at a time when we need decisive leadership – we have entered that phase of the emergency where local officials look to county officials, county officials look to state officials, and state officials look to federal officials – hoping against hope the next level of bureaucratic incompetence will be marginally more effective than their own and provide the answers (and political insulation) they so desperately crave as the questions mount. . .

For instance, one resident of a teetering home in Wilber-by-the-Sea reported that Volusia County previously denied a request for a rock stabilization project behind her property – and others question why, in the wake of a personal inspection by Governor Ron DeSantis on Friday – what remains of the beach isn’t crawling with “200 dump trucks” replenishing sand and fortifying what remains of their foundations.  

Good question. . .

By contrast, within 24-hours post-Nicole, Flagler officials had already made temporary repairs to heavily damaged sections of A-1-A – yeoman’s work – that exemplifies the importance of a rapid and coordinated response to infrastructure restoration.

Now, we are being told by Florida Director of Emergency Management Kevin Guthrie that preliminary damage assessments won’t begin until Monday morning – yet, Volusia County has already released loss estimates north of $481 million.

Don’t worry, eventually everyone will get on the same page. I hope.

On Saturday, I mixed a strong Irish coffee and watched news coverage of the devastation on the south peninsula where beachfront property owners are beginning to point fingers and ask the hard questions – like why wasn’t more done to adequately manage beach erosion and stabilize protective barriers – while many residents are openly speculating whether building should be permitted east of Florida’s Coastal Construction Control Line.

Of course, some of those perennial politicians who cut their teeth weakening environmental protections and facilitating malignant growth across the width and breadth of Volusia County are tut-tutting that any consideration of limiting development east of crumbling A-1-A is an “overreaction” – while other pseudo-experts are telling me that the $20 million Governor DeSantis has earmarked for sand replenishment won’t work and more “strategizing” is needed (no doubt to determine who will get the lucrative contract to haul and push the sand around). . .

Bullshit. 

Frankly, these incompetent shitheels should be hanging their heads in shame – now that their cowardly handiwork has come home to roost. . .

Others are wondering what Volusia County’s “beach mismanagement” apparatus has been doing with the millions in public funds they have been given – and why those “experts” who staff our Coastal Division seem content to do the same thing over-and-over again while naïvely expecting a different result? 

In my view, the real focus of this growing scrutiny should rightfully be on Volusia County’s senior management – those overpaid Oz-like figures behind the curtain – like County Manager George “The Wreck” Recktenwald and Coastal Division Director Jessica Fentress – and others in this bloated bureaucracy who have sat on their thumbs while environmentalists, property owners, and civic activists begged for a proactive approach to beach stabilization for years. 

Surely, they had a plan in the books for this eventuality, right?

Right. . .

In many ways, those self-important dullards on the dais of power in DeLand are mere wooden figureheads who, truth be told, are just as frightened and clueless as the rest of us. 

That is why things happen despite them, not because of them.

The real power remains in the hands of an omnipotent County Manager – granted godlike powers by our sacrosanct county charter that was crafted in the craven image of the extremely wealthy insiders who created it – a single-point of almighty control that is easily influenced by external factions. 

This is Volusia County government’s “trial by fire.”

As a better picture begins to emerge of the true scope of coastal damage, we must demand answers – and accountability – from those politicians, planners, and professional engineers who convinced us that allowing their political benefactors to build shoulder-to-shoulder east of A-1-A on a fragile barrier island – directly on top of the stabilizing dunes and coastal vegetation – represented the “highest and best” use of that natural coastal erosion control system now that our worst fears have been realized.    

And in the view of shellshocked residents who are watching their homes consumed by the sea, it is time for our elected and appointed officials take immediate steps to protect and preserve what remains of our most precious natural resource as the clock ominously ticks toward the next monster. . .