Shining light on the good, bad and ugly of bureaucracy in Florida

City Hall claims $8.46 million in buyout savings. But when Red Tape Florida asked to see the records behind the number, the City said: There aren’t any. 

By Skip Foster, Red Tape Florida 

Last week, Red Tape Florida reported on what appeared to be a glaring contradiction in the City of Tallahassee’s proposed FY 2026-27 budget. City officials have repeatedly claimed the voluntary employee buyout program will save taxpayers $8.46 million, yet the proposed salary budget actually increases from approximately $181.5 million this year to roughly $187.1 million next year. 

That prompted an obvious follow-up request: Show us the math. 

So, we did. 

Red Tape Florida filed a public records request seeking the spreadsheet, financial model, workbook or other document used to calculate the $8.46 million savings figure presented during the June 10 budget workshop. We also requested any emails, memoranda or presentations explaining the calculation, records identifying which of the 171 vacated positions would ultimately be eliminated, frozen or refilled, and documents explaining how those projected savings square with a salary budget that nevertheless increases next year. 

The city’s response was extraordinary. 

No spreadsheet. 

No financial model. 

No workbook. 

No memorandum. 

No presentation. 

No email. 

According to the city’s public records response, there isn’t a single responsive document explaining how City Hall arrived at one of the largest financial claims made during this year’s budget process. 

The city’s production, limited as it was, raises still more questions. 

The city says decisions regarding which of the 171 positions will ultimately be eliminated, held vacant or refilled are still “ongoing,” and that the projected savings estimate itself will be updated before the budget is adopted in September. 

Read that again. 

The city publicly presented a savings estimate of $8.46 million, yet now says the decisions that largely determine those savings haven’t been finalized. If those decisions are still being made in July, how was the city able to calculate projected savings to the nearest $10,000 more than a month ago? 

Here, by the way, is exactly what Red Tape Florida requested: 

“All records, including emails, memoranda, or presentations, prepared by or for the Office of Resource Management, the Office of Management and Budget, or any other City department, analyzing or explaining the relationship between the buyout program’s projected savings and the proposed FY 2026-27 salary budget line, which increases from approximately $181.5 million (FY 2025-26) to approximately $187.1 million (FY 2026-27 proposed).” 

The city’s response was equally direct: 

“No such record exists.” 

It then immediately added: 

“The salary account line item increased from FY26 to FY27 due to the current fiscal year’s approved raise.” 

That’s it. That’s the response. 

Think about that. 

The city says there is no document analyzing or explaining why a buyout program projected to save $8.46 million coincides with a salary budget that nevertheless increases by roughly $5.6 million. 

Yet, in the very next sentence, explains the increase away by pointing to an across-the-board raise passed – much like the buyout – by the commission’s ruling majority. 

Question to readers: is it believable to you that there wasn’t a single email, memorandum, presentation or written analysis prepared before the budget was presented publicly? 

The Numbers Tell Their Own Story 

Red Tape Florida reviewed the city’s last four budget cycles. 

	FY23-24	FY24-25	FY25-26	FY26-27
Salaries	$168,340,457	$175,446,839	$181,517,491	$187,066,364

The salary line has grown every year — 4.2 percent, then 3.5 percent, then 3.1 percent — the same gradual slowdown the city was already on for two straight years before anyone left. The one line most directly tied to headcount is the one line that shows no sign anything changed. 

If $8.46 million in savings is real, and if city staff meant for taxpayers to understand that as fewer salary dollars going out the door, it should show up there. It doesn’t. Whatever produced the slowdown in total personnel costs isn’t showing up where the city told commissioners it would. 

Taxpayers are being asked to accept one of the largest financial claims made during this year’s budget process without being shown a single contemporaneous record explaining how that figure was developed. 

And that brings us back to the same simple question. 

Where’s the spreadsheet? 

Or the financial model? 

Or the workbook? 

Or the memorandum? 

Or the presentation? 

Or the email? 

Maybe there is a perfectly reasonable explanation. 

But it’s the city’s job — not the public’s — to provide it. 

Government doesn’t build public confidence by asking taxpayers to trust the answer. 

It builds confidence by showing its work. 

On one of the biggest budget claims City Hall has made this year, the city says there isn’t any. 

July 15, 2026
By Skip Foster, Red Tape Florida

By Skip Foster, Red Tape Florida 

Most days, Red Tape Florida writes about government at its most frustrating. 

We write about permits that take too long, regulations that don’t make sense, public officials who lose sight of the people they serve and bureaucracies that forget they exist to solve problems—not create them. 

Some readers have asked whether that means we’re anti-government. 

Nothing could be further from the truth. 

We’re pro-accountability. 

We’re pro-transparency. 

Most of all, we’re pro-citizen. 

That’s why Red Tape Florida is proud to support Sign ON 250. 

As our divided nation struggles to understand the stark partisan differences between the Freedom 250 and America 250 brands that divide rather unite, Sign ON 250 seeks to unite us all around those founding principles of Freedom, Independence, Equality, and “Life, Liberty and the Pursuit of Happiness.”  

Launched this week by the National League of Cities, and the brainchild of Tallahassee PR legend Ron Sachs, Sign ON 250 is a year-long initiative inviting Americans to symbolically add their names to the Declaration of Independence as the nation approaches its 250th birthday. The effort encourages citizens to publicly reaffirm the timeless principles that united the original signers in Philadelphia and continue to unite Americans today. 

What makes this initiative particularly compelling is the coalition behind it. 

Alongside the National League of Cities and America’s Newspapers are the Bob Graham Center for Public Service at the University of Florida, The James Madison Institute, the Pennsylvania Municipal League and other civic-minded organizations that don’t always approach public policy from the same direction but agree on one fundamental idea: citizenship requires participation. 

Former Florida Governor and U.S. Senator Bob Graham often reminded us that “democracy is not a spectator sport.” 

James Madison spent his life arguing that self-government only works when citizens remain informed and engaged. 

America’s newspapers have spent more than two centuries informing their communities. 

The National League of Cities exists to strengthen local government. 

All of these are different organizations with different missions.  

But one common belief. 

America works best when citizens show up. 

That philosophy has always been at the heart of Red Tape Florida. 

Every public records request we file. Every city commission meeting we attend. Every permitting story we investigate. Every local government decision we question. 

Those aren’t acts of cynicism. 

They’re acts of citizenship. 

The Founders didn’t risk everything so future generations could simply complain about government from the sidelines. They created a system that depends on informed citizens paying attention, asking questions, participating in their communities and expecting public officials to be accountable. 

That’s why Sign ON 250 resonates so strongly with our mission. 

The Declaration of Independence wasn’t merely a historical document. It was a declaration of values — freedom, equality, representative government and the belief that power ultimately belongs to the people. 

Those ideals remain just as relevant today. 

Whether you’re a builder frustrated by unnecessary red tape, a homeowner trying to navigate local government, an elected official striving to serve your community or simply someone who believes America is worth preserving, this initiative offers an opportunity to make a simple but meaningful statement. 

Not about politics. About citizenship. 

Not about left versus right. About the enduring principles that have carried this nation for nearly 250 years. 

America wasn’t signed just once. 

It has been signed by every generation that chose to preserve what the Founders created. 

Now it’s our turn. 

I hope you’ll join the movement by visiting SignON250.org and adding your name to the Declaration of Independence. 

Because government works best when citizens show up — and America’s next 250 years deserve nothing less. 

And when the fireworks are over and the path cleared from the first days of America’s 250th year, Sign ON 250 will continue to unite AMERICANS THROUGH JULY 4, 2027. 

July 6, 2026

By Kyndra Light, Special to Red Tape Florida 

As our family pulled our RV onto the highway this week, I found myself thinking about the weight of this Independence Day. 

Two hundred and fifty years. 

It is difficult to comprehend that number. 

Behind it are generations of ordinary Americans who built homes, tilled fields, started businesses, served in uniform, raised children, buried loved ones, worshiped together, argued with one another, and somehow kept moving forward. 

This Fourth of July feels different. 

Not because America is perfect. No nation ever has been. 

But because for two and a half centuries, generation after generation, ordinary people have believed this country was worth building, improving, defending, and passing on. 

Like many families, mine stretches deep into that story. 

My roots reach into the hills of Virginia and North Carolina and even farther across the Atlantic to Scotland and Ireland. One branch of my family traces back to Richard Henry Lee who signed the Declaration that forever changed the course of history. Other branches tell quieter stories of military service, public service, farming, teaching, and raising families. My father retired as an Air Force lieutenant colonel. My brother serves as an Air Force pilot. Today, my oldest son serves as a submariner in the United States Navy. 

Every time I look in the mirror, my red hair reminds me of those Scottish hills. 

But what I inherited is far more important than genetics. 

I inherited a spirit. 

A spirit that whispers there is always another mountain to climb, another frontier to explore, another generation to prepare. 

A spirit that urges us to learn, to build, to serve, to love, and to multiply the gifts God has entrusted to us. 

Even writing those words, my heart swells. 

My skin tingles. 

It is difficult to explain, but I suspect many Americans know exactly what I mean. 

For years I thought patriotism was mostly about remembering the past. 

Lately, I have come to believe it is equally about stewarding the future. 

History is rarely made by those who seek it. 

More often, it is made by ordinary people who become so devoted to truth, duty, faith, or freedom that when history comes knocking, they answer. Until then, they are simply living ordinary lives with extraordinary faithfulness. 

Think about the men who signed the Declaration of Independence. 

They did not sign because they wanted statues. 

Quite the opposite. 

They signed knowing they were risking everything. Their livelihoods. Their homes. Their reputations. Their fortunes. Even the safety of their families. 

They were not pursuing greatness. 

They were answering conscience. 

History remembered them because conviction demanded action, not because fame did. 

That truth did not end in 1776. 

It simply became our turn. 

Most of us will never sign a declaration, command an army, or hold elected office. 

Instead, history has entrusted us with something different. 

A family. 

A classroom. 

A small business. 

A church. 

A neighborhood. 

A community. 

History is not written only in capitols or on battlefields. 

It is written around kitchen tables. 

In welding shops. 

On baseball fields. 

Inside classrooms. 

Around conference tables. 

In church pews. 

In the quiet decisions no one else ever sees. 

A republic is not preserved by extraordinary people doing extraordinary things once in a generation. 

It is preserved by ordinary people doing ordinary things extraordinarily well, generation after generation. 

That is why I believe work matters. 

Work is service. 

Service gives us purpose. 

Purpose is one of the ways we honor both God and the gifts we have been entrusted to steward. 

Whether we are raising children, teaching students, starting businesses, serving in uniform, caring for aging parents, coaching Little League, or quietly doing our jobs with excellence, every honest day’s work contributes something to the country we all share. 

Someone recently said, “If you want to hate America, watch the news. If you want to love America, drive through it.” 

I smiled because I knew exactly what they meant. 

As I write these words, our RV is rolling down the interstate toward Orlando. My husband is driving. My youngest son is looking out the window. My oldest son is home from the Navy. Soon all four of our children will be together for the first time in months. I cannot think of a better way to celebrate America’s 250th birthday than surrounded by the people I love most in the country I have always been grateful to call home. 

Drive through America for a few days and you’ll begin to understand her. 

You’ll find the woman selling peaches from a roadside stand. 

The campground neighbor who walks over just to welcome you. 

The veteran quietly mowing his lawn. 

The father coaching Little League after work. 

The mechanic who stays late so a family can continue their vacation. 

The waitress who remembers your name. 

The stranger who says, “You’ve never been on the lake? Come with us.” 

The family proudly flying a flag from the front porch. 

These are the people who quietly sustain a nation. 

Not because anyone is watching. 

Not because history will remember their names. 

But because they choose faithfulness again and again. 

America has never been perfect. 

Neither have I. 

Neither has any family. 

Neither has any generation. 

The miracle is not that we have always gotten everything right. 

The miracle is that every generation has been given another opportunity to leave something better than it found. 

Mother Teresa once said, “If you want to change the world, go home and love your family.” 

I believe she was right. 

Perhaps preserving a republic begins the same way. 

Love your family well. 

Raise children who surpass you. 

Teach them to love God. 

Teach them to work. 

Teach them to seek truth. 

Teach them to serve others with humility. 

Teach them that freedom is not merely inherited. 

It is practiced. 

Every single day. 

Two hundred and fifty years after America’s founding, I am not a founder. 

I am not a statesman. 

I am simply an ordinary woman raising her family in Tallahassee. 

Perhaps that is exactly where history has always been made. 

Quietly. 

Faithfully. 

One generation at a time. 

Perhaps that is the American spirit. 

Not the promise that life will always be easy. 

Not the claim that we have always gotten everything right. 

But the enduring belief that, with God’s grace, each generation can leave the next with more freedom, more opportunity, more wisdom, and more hope than it inherited. 

That is the inheritance I received. 

It is the inheritance I pray my children will one day pass to theirs. 

Kyndra Light is Senior Consultant at Tallahassee State College, where she works to strengthen workforce development and build partnerships that connect education, industry and community. 

July 4, 2026

By Skip Foster, Red Tape Florida 

Here’s a sentence we did not expect to write: Among the reasons the City of Tallahassee gave for delaying power to a $25 million hotel was the color of a sticker.  

Not a missing permit. 

Not exposed wiring. 

Not anything resembling an actual electrical hazard. 

A sticker. 

According to members of the development team and the project’s private provider, city officials insisted the black-and-gold address numbers on the meter can be replaced with black-on-white numbers before early power would be approved. 

The city’s written inspection comment, however, described the issue differently, stating simply: “Numbers peeling on CT meter.” 

Whatever the explanation, the result was the same: a $25 million hotel project waited 25 days — from June 5, the date of the city’s first inspection, to June 30, the date power was finally turned on — for what should have been a routine early-power approval. 

First, the hotel waited on the City of Tallahassee building department. Then, the City of Tallahassee utility department. 

The Eagles wrote of the Hotel California, “This could be heaven or this could be hell.” 

In Tallahassee permitting, it’s definitely hell. 

A Routine Request, Treated Like a Hostage Negotiation 

“Early power” is about as exotic as a parking permit. It’s the standard, garden-variety step that lets contractors install elevators and finish electrical work before the building earns its certificate of occupancy. Every hotel gets it. Every office tower gets it. 

Somehow, at the $25 million hotel rising at Summit East, it became a 25-day siege. 

Al Wilson is the private provider hired to inspect the project under Florida Statute 553.791 — not the city, not a city contractor, but an independent, state-licensed inspector retained directly by the project. 

Wilson says the city’s inspector failed the project’s early-power inspection over a short list of items. 

Let’s take them one at a time. 

Exhibit A: The Sticker 

We already gave away the ending on this one. 

The color of address stickers is apparently very important to Tallahassee inspectors.  

In his response, City of Tallahassee Building Official Glenn Dodson noted that the city requires an address to be posted on a building before permanent power is connected, “in case of an emergency,” and that the temporary address posting was, in fact, one of the items corrected before power was ultimately approved.

He did not, however, address the specific complaint at issue here — that the dispute was over the color of the numbers on the meter can, not whether an address was posted at all. 

Wilson says that gap is the point: a general, undisputed safety rule about address visibility doesn’t explain why a specific color preference for the numbers held up early power. 

A project that will eventually employ dozens of people and add badly needed hotel rooms to a market starved for them was delayed—at least in part—over address numbers on a meter can. 

This isn’t caution. It’s a complete loss of proportion between the size of the problem and the size of the response. 

Exhibit B: The Loose Wires That Weren’t the Contractor’s to Lose 

Loose wires in the “CT can” drew a citation. 

Wilson inspected them and found the wires sufficiently tight and within industry standards. 

Observers at the job site say city officials repeatedly pulled on the wires in an effort to demonstrate movement. 

The city offers a more dramatic account. Dodson told Red Tape Florida that loose lugs in the main electrical cabinet were found on three separate site visits — not one — including one attempt where the conductors had not even been run to the building yet.

“The loose connections of the wires in the main cabinet and the main disconnect could potentially cause an electrical arc that could harm workers and cause a fire,” Dodson wrote. 

Wilson says city officials were observed pulling on the wires with full body weight. 

Of note, Wilson is an International Code Council (ICC) “master code professional” and has “every certification there is,” as he puts it. There is no one on the city’s staff that can match Wilson’s credentials. 

Exhibit C: Panic Hardware, Several Inspections Early 

Missing panic hardware on the electrical room door also made the list. 

Except panic hardware isn’t required until final inspection. Remember, this was an early-power inspection. 

Dodson disputes that timeline. He says the code requirement isn’t tied to final inspection at all, but to whether the room is energized. “The panic hardware is required on an electric room when there is a large electrical service, and this type of door latch should be in place when the electrical system is energized for the safety of the workers that may be in that room in case of an emergency,” Dodson wrote — meaning, in the city’s reading, the requirement attaches at early power, not final inspection. 

Wilson maintains that’s not how the requirement has been enforced on comparable projects, and that the city is applying a final-inspection standard at the early-power stage — selectively, in his view, and not as a matter of routine practice. 

This is the bureaucratic equivalent of pulling someone over because their registration expires three months from now. 

Exhibit D: The Locked Door 

The electrical room was locked, so the inspector couldn’t access the disconnect. 

Never mind that the room contained thousands of dollars in electrical equipment on an active construction site. Never mind that the construction superintendent had no idea anyone was coming. 

Nobody called ahead. Nobody asked for access. The inspector arrived, found a locked electrical room on a construction site, failed the item and left. 

Dodson said it was a safety issue. 

A Bigger Dispute Than Stickers 

Wilson’s broader complaint isn’t really about stickers or panic hardware. It’s about authority. 

Florida created the private provider program so qualified, state-licensed inspectors could perform building inspections in place of local building departments. Wilson argues Tallahassee is defeating the Legislature’s intent by conducting many of the same inspections anyway simply because it owns the electric utility. 

“I am not the electrical contractor,” Wilson told Red Tape Florida. “I am the private provider hired to inspect the project, yet the city insists that they must inspect the electrical system because they own the utility.” 

As Wilson sees it, that’s exactly what Florida’s private provider law was designed to prevent. He also rejects any suggestion that the city cares more about safety than he does. “I have millions of dollars in professional liability insurance, while they enjoy sovereign immunity.” 

The city points to a carve-out in Florida Statute 553.791(9) it says allowed the visits as verification rather than duplicate inspection. Wilson calls that a distinction without a difference — four site visits that each had the power to hold up the project looks more like reinspection than verification, whatever you call it. 

The Legislature apparently agreed. HB 803, signed by Gov. DeSantis on May 6 and effective July 1, now requires actual written notice and substantiated cause before a local official can revisit work a private provider already cleared. The law had been on the books for nearly two months when these inspections happened. Dodson chose to run out the clock on the old rules anyway. Why wait until the law makes you do the right thing? 

This Is Not A Private Provider’s First Rodeo 

Red Tape Florida has previously documented complaints from private providers and contractors who believe they face a far more difficult path through City Hall than others. 

This project appears to fit that pattern. Routine requests become prolonged negotiations. Inspection items appear before they’re due. Minor issues become major obstacles. 

And the clock keeps ticking. 

The Real Cost of a Permanent Hotel Shortage 

It’s easy to dismiss a 25-day permitting delay as somebody else’s problem. 

It isn’t. 

Tallahassee has struggled for years with an undersupply of hotel rooms. Anyone who has tried to book a room during an FSU football weekend, graduation or the legislative session already knows what happens. 

Prices don’t just rise. They spike. That’s what happens when demand is predictable and supply never quite catches up. 

A new, large-scale hotel is exactly the kind of project that helps relieve that pressure. 

This 25-day delay postponed bringing additional hotel rooms online in a market that desperately needs them.  

More importantly, time is money. Every day a project sits idle costs someone money. Construction schedules slip. Trades get pushed back. Financing costs continue. Opening dates move farther into the future. 

That’s not just a developer problem. It’s a visitor problem. It’s a tourism problem. It’s an economic development problem. 

‘But, It’s Just 25 Days, Right?’ 

Think about the big picture. 

Twenty-five days on one project may not be earth-shattering. But what about 25 days on 100 projects? Or 1,000? Now we are talking about a cumulative effect of years of delays. 

And what about the reputational hit? Red Tape Florida has had numerous builders from all across the state – and other states – say that Tallahassee is the most business-unfriendly city in Florida. 

Even in just this case, while it doesn’t sound like much, every idle day costs money — slipped schedules, pushed trades, financing that keeps running whether the elevator moves or not. Opening dates don’t just delay. They compound. 

Finally, on Friday, June 26, the Building Department cleared early power. The private provider was present. The green sticker was applied. That battle, at least, was over. 

Then the City of Tallahassee Utilities showed up. 

Act Two: The Utility Department Has Its Own Ideas 

The Building Department is one arm of the city. The Utilities Department is another. And after 21 days of fighting the Building Department over stickers, loose wires, panic hardware, and locked doors, the project team discovered that clearing the Building Department was not the same thing as getting the power turned on. 

COT Utilities had a condition of its own: the UL-certified locks on the electrical cabinets had to be drilled out before the city would energize the building. 

The elevators could finally be installed. 

The project could finally move forward. 

But the larger question remains. 

If this is how Tallahassee handles a $25 million investment that will create jobs, generate tax revenue and help ease one of the city’s most persistent hotel shortages, what message does that send to the next developer deciding where to invest? 

That’s a question worth far more than the color of a sticker. 

July 2, 2026
By Skip Foster, Red Tape Florida

By Skip Foster, Red Tape Florida 

When Red Tape Florida launched, the mission wasn’t simply to criticize local government. 

The mission was to encourage better local government. 

That’s why it’s worth recognizing when public agencies move in the right direction. 

This week, the Office of Economic Vitality issued a Request for Proposals seeking a marketing firm to promote Tallahassee as the “Magnetics Capital of the World.” The initiative would build a multimedia campaign centered on one of the community’s greatest economic assets — the National High Magnetic Field Laboratory — and its potential to attract companies, investment and talent. 

The timing is noteworthy. 

In April, Red Tape Florida published an analysis questioning why OEV’s marketing efforts largely overlooked the MagLab while emphasizing more generic quality-of-life messaging. The argument wasn’t that Tallahassee needed more marketing. It was that Tallahassee needed to market the right thing. 

This RFP suggests OEV is doing exactly that. And that’s great news. 

Tallahassee-Leon appears to be placing greater emphasis on one of its most distinctive competitive advantages. For more than three decades, the MagLab has been the world’s premier magnetics research facility. Communities across America would gladly trade places with Tallahassee if they could. 

Yet the region has struggled to build the kind of private-sector ecosystem that often grows around world-class research institutions. 

Marketing alone won’t solve that challenge. 

But it’s an important place to start. 

The RFP calls for a comprehensive campaign to improve brand recognition, increase awareness of Tallahassee’s magnetic technologies, market targeted industries and position the community as the “Magnetics Capital of the World.”  

It also asks that this newly developed creative be marketed, through paid digital channels, among others. This is an important change from prior marketing efforts that led to award winning creative sitting on a shelf. 

Perhaps most importantly, the project would tie marketing efforts to growing the local magnetics industry cluster — not simply creating a new slogan. 

The real measure of success won’t be impressions, clicks or social media engagement. 

It will be whether more magnetics companies relocate here. Whether more startups commercialize MagLab research. Whether more suppliers choose Tallahassee. Whether more high-paying private-sector jobs follow. 

Those are the outcomes that matter. 

Red Tape Florida will continue asking difficult questions when warranted. But credibility also requires acknowledging progress. 

When government makes decisions that better position Tallahassee for long-term economic success, those decisions deserve recognition as well. 

June 24, 2026
By Skip Foster, Red Tape Florida

Skip Foster, publisher of Red Tape Florida and president of Hammerhead Communications, addressed the Capital Tiger Bay Club Thursday with a blunt diagnosis of Tallahassee and Leon County’s economic condition. The speech argued that population, job, and sales numbers all point the same direction — down — and laid out a six-point prescription for reversing course. We’re publishing the full remarks below, word for word. 

Good morning and I just want to say how great it is to be here. 

Being asked to speak at the Capital Tiger Bay club is one of the highest honors anybody in our community can receive … in mid-June. 

So hello and welcome to the capital of the third largest state in the union, the second-fastest growing state in the U.S. and the 15th largest economy in the world. 

This is it – the center of government in a bustling, thriving state! 

Or is it? 

Today I’m going to offer you an assertion, the proof to back it up, some context, and then a prescription for change. 

The assertion is this: Tallahassee and Leon County are – right now – in the midst of a serious period of economic distress that is decades in the making. 

The Proof 

Now, the stats. 

Let’s start at the very most basic statistic – population growth. 

Just a month or so ago the U.S. Census Bureau released new population information. It showed that in the 12 months ending last July, Leon County LOST population. 

1,440 residents. 

That’s the equivalent of all registered voters in the Betton Hills voting precinct leaving in a year. 

The capital county of Florida is LOSING population. If you aren’t shocked by that, you should be. 

Consider just one consequence. Leon County Schools are already fighting fierce headwinds from school choice, and the state funds districts largely on a per-student basis. If only a couple hundred of those 1,440 residents were school-age children—and that’s a reasonable estimate—that represents roughly $2 million in annual education funding disappearing with them. 

This latest population drop fits with a years-long trend. Leon County’s population in 2010 was a little over 275,000. We still haven’t cracked 300,000. That’s .55 annual growth – anemic. Florida is growing 3 times faster than its capital county. 

Job numbers are similar. 

Leon County is losing jobs – the Florida Chamber says so and so does the Tallahassee-Leon Office of Economic Vitality’s OEV’s own web site. 

In October of 2024, according to the OEV’s own data center, there were 163,592 jobs in Leon County. The latest reporting data – it’s down to 158,830. Almost 5,000 jobs have vanished in 18 months. 

What about sales? 

In January of 2025, Leon County posted $437 million in retail sales. 12 months later, Leon County posted $391.6 million in taxable sales. That’s down $46 million. Again, these are OEV numbers. And that’s a big loss during a time of high inflation when just selling the same amount of stuff should have led to higher dollars. 

These are the three key legs of any community’s economic stool – employment, sales, population. All down. 

“These are the three key legs of any community’s economic stool – employment, sales, population. All down.” 

The reality of these numbers matches the truth on the ground. 

OEV hasn’t announced a successful recruitment since 2024. According to its own records, the only out-of-market win in its 10-year history was Amazon – anybody that had anything to do with that project will tell you OEV had nothing do with Amazon choosing Tallahassee. 

The other wins for OEV are relocating a local brewery and expansions of two existing businesses. 

How is that possible? 

Just between me being asked to write this speech and today, major new jobs projects were announced in Thomasville, Ga. and Bay County with over 100 new jobs each. 

Leon hasn’t had a win like that in years. 

*** 

Speaking of years, way back in 1994, then-Vice President Al Gore came to Tallahassee to celebrate the opening of the Mag Lab. 

Let’s play a little Tiger Bay game. 

Imagine it’s 1994. You’re sitting at your tables for a strategic planning retreat. The facilitator gives your table this assignment: 

“What can Tallahassee do to ensure that as little economic development as possible is ever created around this one-of-a-kind national scientific asset?” 

You could hardly do better than our community has while TRYING! 

Thirty-two years later, the Mag Lab remains one of the most unique research facilities in the world. Yet the private-sector economic activity generated around it is astonishingly small. 

Can you imagine what that asset would look like today if it had landed in Austin? Raleigh-Durham? Huntsville? 

The failure to build a meaningful innovation economy around the Mag Lab is one of the greatest economic development underachievements in Florida history, much less Tallahassee. 

“One of the greatest economic development underachievements in Florida history, much less Tallahassee.” 

Now, the impacts of this flailing economy and scant economic development shouldn’t be surprising. One of them is crime. 

The state stopped publishing municipal crime rankings a few years ago, which probably came as a relief to local leaders. From 2014 through 2018, Tallahassee repeatedly led Florida in violent crime. While things have improved, they remain troubling. Today Tallahassee’s violent crime rate is still roughly three times the state average. 

Another byproduct is a frustrating situation with air travel. 

Guess how far you can go back and find a year when TLH Intergalactic had the same number of passengers as it does today? 

Here’s a hint: Puntrooski. 

That’s right, 1988, the same year Leroy Butler raced down the sidelines in Death Valley. 

TLH had 949k passengers in 1988 – OEV says in 2025 it was 902k. 

In the same period, Jacksonville went from roughly 3 million passengers to 7.6 million 

And none of us needed the national survey to tell us that TLH is one of the most expensive airports in America. Subsidies are being thrown at airlines every few years, but when the subsidy runs out, so does the new service. Red Tape Florida just published a story about how Breeze has dropped 18 routes in the last year and at least half of them were subsidized. 

So … why? Why is it like this? 

The Golf Analogy 

Golf analogy time: For those of you who play, you know there are four major parts of the game: driving, iron play, short game and putting. 

You can survive with one weakness. 

Sometimes even two. 

But if all four are out of sync, it’s time to flag down the beer cart. 

Communities are the same way. 

Tallahassee has four major power centers: 

The private sector. 

State government. 

Local government. 

Higher education. 

If those four are rowing in the same direction, amazing things happen. 

If they’re pulling against one another, stagnation is inevitable. 

And in Tallahassee, they are almost never aligned. 

The red “state” government doesn’t trust blue “local” government. 

Our universities often pursue institutional priorities that don’t necessarily align with community priorities. 

Local government has too often been mired in bureaucracy, ineffectiveness and even corruption. 

And the private sector has largely failed to provide the leadership necessary to bring everyone together. 

Now, if you think that’s too harsh, let’s look at the most important civic issue we’ve faced in years. 

The proposed TMH-FSU partnership should have been a year-long celebration. 

Think about it. 

A major community hospital. 

A major research university. 

The capital city. 

The capital county. 

Every leg of the stool pointed in the same direction. 

Instead, the TMH CEO found out about the possible sale of his hospital while attending a United Way board meeting. 

“What should have been a model of collaboration became a case study in dysfunction.” 

The city manager and mayor conducted secret discussions with FSU leadership. 

Things got sideways with FAMU and TSC. 

And the Chamber did what the Chamber does best. It sat that one out. 

What should have been a model of collaboration became a case study in dysfunction. 

Unfortunately, back to golf, that example is just par for the course for our community. 

Local government leadership in our community has been obsessed with petty politics, devoid of a shared vision and unable to grasp the fundamental role government should play in building prosperity. The City of Tallahassee culture, in particular, is business unfriendly and driven by PR wins not on the ground accomplishment. To wit, the City devotes more than $1.5 million and 9 employees to its communications department alone. 

“The City devotes more than $1.5 million and 9 employees to its communications department alone.” 

Meanwhile, for the City, the first quarter of the 21st century has been marked by scandal, corruption and, with regards to economic development, apparent indifference. 

The private sector leg of the stool has, sadly, also been rickety. 

Tallahassee-Leon’s private sector has not done its job. 

It has not articulated the benefits of growth. It has not cultivated a generation of business-savvy public sector leaders. And, perhaps most importantly, it has allowed a select few – whose businesses are intimately connected to local government – to, in effect, neuter the Chamber and other business organizations and abdicate their responsibilities to drive growth and vision and progress. 

I want to make sure I’m not being ambiguous. Private sector companies in segments such as legal, lobbying, engineering, finance, real estate, development and many others have chosen control and influence over local government rather than cultivating a crop of visionary leaders who are beholden to what’s best for our community’s vitality rather than their own interests. 

This has led to ineffective, tightly controlled governance, which has had the unintended consequence of allowing the anti-growth movement to flourish. It has fostered a regulatory environment that is widely known around the state and region as the most business-unfriendly around. 

Tallahassee-Leon has a “closed for business” sign hanging around its neck and the statistics from the start of this speech are proof that this is real. 

“Tallahassee-Leon has a “closed for business” sign hanging around its neck.” 

How many of you read the Midtown Reader story in Red Tape Florida? 

A local business – a BOOKSTORE – decided it wanted to expand. Local government should have come rushing in with flowers saying: “Oh my goodness, this is fantastic – HOW CAN WE HELP?” 

Instead, it was all sidewalks and parking and bike racks and red tape and lots of time and money. 

A friend who works with local busineses recently told me – there are so many more Midtown Reader stories out there, you wouldn’t believe it. 

It’s a culture. 

And our compromised business community hasn’t solved the problem. 

I once asked a longtime business leader: When is the last time this Chamber took a public position contrary to that of local government? 

Silence. 

Couldn’t think of one. 

Now, my dear friend Eddie Gonzalez Loumiet brings me great hope as the current Chamber chair. He is a visionary and the truth is if Tallahassee had 100 Eddies we would be a much better place. 

But action has to be dramatic and it won’t be easy. 

The Chamber made a strategic decision to deeply align itself with the majority on the Tallahassee city commission. I know because I helped develop that strategy. 

It was a mistake. 

The Chamber forgot something as it worked to keep progressives out of power – it forgot to hold the majority accountable. Can anyone name pro-business policies adopted by the Dailey-Goad regime. Tax cuts? Regulatory reform? Economic development success? Business incentives? Anything? 

The Anti-Growth Disaster 

Tallahassee also has to break out of its “sense of place” ruts. Terms like “quality of life” and “walkability” are not bad things. In fact, they’re important. 

The problem is that they’ve too often been used as conversation stoppers rather than starters. 

Over time, those concepts have been co-opted and weaponized by anti-growth ideologues who invoke them whenever a new housing development, business expansion, parking deck or infrastructure project is proposed. 

The implication is always the same: growth threatens quality of life. 

But that’s backwards. 

Growth is what pays for quality of life. 

“Growth is what pays for quality of life.” 

Growth is what funds parks, trails, public safety, arts and recreation. 

Without a thriving private sector, “quality of life” becomes little more than a slogan. 

Those fighting new parking decks in Midtown, new housing developments, even in urban areas, and new development need to understand the effects of their efforts: 

– They are killing jobs. Red Tape Florida recently did a piece citing two models that show how many blue-collar jobs are created when a 100-house development is built. When you show up wearing the same colored t-shirts to oppose a new development, you are campaigning against dozens of good paying trades jobs – plumbers, landscapers, cabinet makers, painters, electricians and more. The anti-growth movement is, by definition, an anti-labor movement. 

– As mentioned, eventually they are drying up the government coffers that help preserve the things we all love about Tallahassee. 

– They are contributing to the affordable housing crisis. Suppressing supply will drive up price EVERY TIME. And by the way, building $500k homes absolutely DOES help affordable housing for the same reason that somebody buying a $50k new car eventually helps a college kid buy and $8k Civic with 100,000 miles. 

– Perhaps most importantly, a stagnant city has the most profound impact on its most vulnerable residents. While you fight to protect the pristine nature of your Betton or Killearn existence, those in other parts of town where you never travel are fighting for their very lives. That plumbing job you are killing could be a lifesaver or a ticket out of poverty for someone else. 

“… for others, a ‘sense of place’ means simply living without the fear of violence…” 

Not everybody’s “sense of place” is the same. 

While for some it means majestic oaks and serene parks, for others a sense of place means simply living without the fear of violence or knowing where the next meal is coming from. 

The Prescription 

So, I promised you a prescription and here it comes. 

– First, rebuild an independent private sector voice. 

For decades, Tallahassee’s business community has allowed itself to become too intertwined with the very governments it is supposed to hold accountable. That’s not a criticism of any one person or company. It’s a structural problem. 

At a minimum, The Chamber and other business organizations should adopt stronger conflict-of-interest standards, greater transparency and a renewed commitment to speaking plainly when local government is failing. 

Some will say, “Come on, Skip. That’s not realistic. Too many businesses in this town depend on city and county government.” 

My answer? Yeah. That’s the problem. 

– Measure outcomes – honestly. 

A business leader is equally interested in the good and bad news on his P&L. In Tallahassee bad news is ignored. 

Dashboards are only useful if fully utilized as a tool, not cherry picked for positive press. Tallahassee is far too dependent on obscure web site rankings, the same people getting awards every month and proclamations. Private and public sector leaders should be obsessed with job growth, population, wages, taxable sales and private investment. 

Local government leaders should demand more transparent and regular updates and constantly push staff to talk about what is being done to improve. If those numbers are moving in the right direction, celebrate. If they aren’t, stop pretending they are. 

– Declare Tallahassee-Leon Open for Business 

Every permitting process, zoning review and development decision should start with one question: How do we make this happen responsibly instead of why can’t it happen? 

Local government should create a system to seek and receive relentless feedback from those trying to navigate the system. Not even a whiff of retribution should be tolerated in response to whistleblowers or those who issue complaints. 

A full analysis of needed infrastructure should be conducted (Thomasville just landed a new industry in an existing industrial park – 100 jobs), including available land, utility capacity, zoning hindrances and more. 

Then, every anti-growth rally should be met with statistics on how many jobs would be killed, how much new government revenue would be lost and real stories of poverty and crime that are the clear result of economic stagnation. 

The embarrassing, gaslighting cry: “We are going to turn into Orlando,” needs to be countered with a more realistic cry: “We are going to turn into the only town left behind from Florida’s boom.” 

“We are going to turn into the only town left behind from Florida’s boom.” 

– Demand more from higher education 

FSU, FAMU and TSC are not simply located in Tallahassee. They are among the most powerful institutions in Tallahassee. With that comes responsibility. Our institutions of higher education should be judged not only by enrollment and research dollars but by the economic impact they create for the community around them. They should be involved in community leadership not just with obligatory board seats but with active engagement. Even if some leaders are short-timers in Tallahassee, find those who are committed to the community and who can advocate for it and then empower them to bring about change. 

I should add that TSC is really modeling this behavior best, taking the lead in AI education and trying to pull the rest of the community along on job readiness and new training models. 

– Bring together the four legs of the stool 

Find willing and able representatives from state and local government, higher education and the private sector – including a notable lack of usual suspects — to start developing a new vision for our community. Then lock them in a room and don’t let them out until they can answer one simple question: What should Tallahassee’s economy look like in 2040? Because right now, if you asked 20 influential people that question, you’d probably get 20 different answers. 

And if those four major segments of our community can’t agree on where we’re going, why should anyone be surprised we’re drifting? 

– Replace a scarcity mentality with abundance. 

This community is underachieving in a dramatic and dangerous way. Too many private sector leaders choose control and self-interest over vision and creativity. Too many long-time residents choose NIMBYism and a plantation mentality over growth and opportunity for all. 

Tallahassee spends too much time fretting about dividing the pie and not enough about growing it. 

It’s time to find ways to expand. Growth vs. protecting our quality of life is a false choice. And remember, for many, urban living IS a better quality of life. 

The Close 

Tallahassee may not be dying. But it’s ill. And the first step in treating any illness is admitting you have one. 

We don’t have a geography problem. 

We don’t have a university problem. 

We don’t have a natural-resources problem. 

We don’t have a talent problem. 

We have a leadership problem. 

“We have a leadership problem.” 

The good news is leadership problems can be fixed. 

This community has extraordinary assets. 

World-class universities. 

The nation’s premier magnetics laboratory. 

The center of government in one of the fastest-growing states in America. 

Beautiful natural resources. 

And a location that should make us the economic hub of North Florida. 

The question is not whether Tallahassee can succeed. The question is whether we are finally willing to demand that it does. 

Thank you very much. 

June 18, 2026
Skip Foster

By Skip Foster, Red Tape Florida 

A few days ago, a government job posting stopped Red Tape Florida cold. 

Palm Beach County is hiring. 

The salary: $79,156 to $133,598 annually. 

The title? 

Chief of Unsafe Structures. 

I read it three times. Not because I was confused. Because I wanted to make sure the English language hadn’t quietly changed on me. 

It had not. 

And so, as a public service to taxpayers who may one day interact with this office, I began wondering what a typical day in the life of Palm Beach County’s future Chief of Unsafe Structures might look like. 

Here goes: 

7:00 a.m. 

Arrive at office. 

Review overnight Unsafe Structure Report. 

One gazebo remains under observation. 

No immediate threat to public safety. 

Gazebo issued a warning. 

Gazebo does not respond. 

This is noted in the file. 

7:30 a.m. 

Meeting with Assistant Deputy of Inspections. 

Discuss strategic vision for unsafe structures. 

Consensus reached that structures should ideally become less unsafe over time. 

This is described as a “bold goal.” 

Action items assigned. 

Action items will be revisited at next meeting. 

8:15 a.m. 

Coffee break. 

Coffee station informally inspected. 

Found to be structurally sound. 

No enforcement action required. 

Coffee consumed without incident. 

Coffee station will be monitored. 

9:00 a.m. 

Field inspection. 

Citizen reports suspiciously unsafe structure. 

Structure confirmed to be unsafe. 

Department celebrates another successful identification. 

Structure remains unsafe. 

But we know about it now, which is progress. 

10:30 a.m. 

Staff meeting. 

Reminder issued that structures found to be safe should be referred to another department. 

This department does not handle safe structures. 

That is somebody else’s problem. 

11:45 a.m. 

Lunch. 

Restaurant selected after brief structural assessment. 

Booth chosen over table near load-bearing wall. 

Professionally, you can’t turn it off. 

12:30 p.m. 

Annual performance review. 

Goals established: 

• Identify unsafe structures. 

• Reduce unsafe structures. 

• Discourage creation of additional unsafe structures. 

Progress deemed satisfactory. 

Reviewer notes that “structures remain a concern.” 

Reviewer does not elaborate. 

Meeting adjourned. 

2:00 p.m. 

Emergency briefing. 

Report received regarding structure exhibiting advanced unsafeness. 

Response team mobilized. 

Response team reminded to park in designated spaces. 

Structure briefed on its rights. 

Structure does not respond. 

This is also noted in the file. 

3:15 p.m. 

Personnel recognition ceremony. 

Inspector Jones commended for identifying a structure that was significantly more unsafe than initially believed. 

Inspector Jones accepts award. 

Inspector Jones notes he just walked past it. 

Award stands. 

4:00 p.m. 

Budget planning session. 

Proposal submitted for Assistant Chief of Moderately Unsafe Structures. 

Also floated: Deputy Director of Structures That Could Go Either Way. 

Both requests referred to committee. 

Committee has not yet formed. 

Formation of committee referred to subcommittee. 

4:45 p.m. 

Conference call. 

Thirteen attendees. 

Discussion centers on whether a structure can be considered officially unsafe if it is only unsafe on weekdays. 

No consensus reached. 

Legal review requested. 

Legal advises it depends. 

5:15 p.m. 

Task force formed. 

5:30 p.m. 

Subcommittee formed to advise the task force. 

5:45 p.m. 

Structure remains unsafe. 

5:50 p.m. 

New hire raises hand. New hire asks: If we inspected all the structures in the first place, how are there any unsafe ones?” Brief silence. New hire’s question is moved to “parking lot.” HR informed that new hire isn’t going to work out. 

6:00 p.m. 

Depart office. 

Reflect on career path. 

Parents once dreamed of doctor. Lawyer. Astronaut. 

Instead: Chief of Unsafe Structures. 

$133,598 a year. 

Full benefits. 

Life takes unexpected turns. 

To be fair — and I am straining to be fair here — Palm Beach County is not doing anything particularly unusual. Large governments create specialized units for specialized problems. Dangerous buildings are real. Hurricane damage is real. Somebody does need to deal with those situations. 

What fascinates me is not the position. 

It is the title. 

Because somewhere, sometime, a room full of otherwise functional adults looked at what appears to be a senior building-safety position and concluded that Chief of Unsafe Structures was the clearest, most professional way to describe the job. 

Not Director of Building Safety. 

Not Chief Building Official. 

Not Director of Structural Integrity. 

Chief of Unsafe Structures. 

Government has a remarkable gift for organizing itself around its own failures. Not around solving them. Around managing them. Naming them. Staffing them. Forming subcommittees to advise task forces about them. 

Which makes me wonder what other positions may soon become available. 

Director of Potholes. 

Chief of Traffic Congestion. 

Assistant Deputy of Unreturned Phone Calls. 

Administrator of Missed Garbage Pickups. 

Deputy Director of Projects That Were Supposed to Be Done Last Spring. 

Executive Director of Things That Really Shouldn’t Be Happening. 

Chief of Explaining Why the Website Is Still Down. 

I made those up. 

But the Chief of Unsafe Structures is real. 

June 18, 2026
By Skip Foster, Red Tape Florida 

By Skip Foster, Red Tape Florida 

The City of Tallahassee paid 171 employees a combined $3.87 million to walk away this spring. City staff told commissioners the program would save taxpayers roughly $8.46 million. 

So, Red Tape Florida went looking for those savings in the proposed FY 2026-27 budget. 

We couldn’t find them. 

According to the City’s own online budget portal (which was updated June 9), the total salary line doesn’t shrink after 171 departures — it grows.  

From roughly $181.5 million in the current budget to roughly $187.1 million proposed for next year. That’s $5.6 million more being spent on salaries, not less, following the departure of 171 people the City itself credited with generating millions in savings. 

For context: those 171 employees likely represented well over $10 million in annual salary alone, and substantially more once benefits are included. The program had age and service requirements, which tends to select for longer-tenured, higher-paid employees — 28 of the 171 made six figures, and the ten highest-paid alone accounted for more than $1.8 million in salary. Factor in the City’s own fringe benefit rate of roughly 43 to 45 percent, and the true compensation value of those positions was likely as much as $18 million a year, perhaps more. 

An $8.46 million savings figure out of that much payroll may not be an outlandish number to land on. But that’s exactly what makes the salary line increasing by $5.6 million so hard to square. If the City already expected to refill some of these positions — staff has confirmed at least nine so far, with that number expected to grow to around 30 — then say so, and show the math. Right now, the public has a savings claim, a budget that moves in the opposite direction, and no explanation connecting the two. 

Red Tape Florida has submitted public records requests seeking: 

• The model or spreadsheet City staff used to calculate the projected $8.46 million in savings 

• Records identifying which of the 171 vacated positions are being eliminated, frozen, or refilled 

• Documentation explaining why the proposed salary budget increases despite the workforce reduction 

If a document exists showing how the $8.46 million figure was calculated, it should also show which positions were assumed vacant and which were assumed refilled. If no such document exists, that’s worth knowing too. 

Public budgets should be understandable without a records request. When government asks taxpayers to believe a program will save millions while the largest salary line in the budget increases instead, the burden is on government to explain why — not on the public to assume there’s a good reason. 

We’ll update this story when the City provides the records. 

June 17, 2026
By Skip Foster, Red Tape Florida 

Why is the City hellbent on spending millions to build an in-town dam? 

Special Investigation by Skip Foster, Red Tape Florida 

The City of Tallahassee wants to build a massive new dam next to Cobb Middle School. 

The question is why. 

Depending on the option selected, the project could create a wall as much as 27 feet high and roughly 240 feet long — about the same area as Florida State University’s largest Doak Campbell Stadium video board. 

The City estimates the project will cost about $5 million, though experts contacted by Red Tape Florida believe the final price could be substantially higher. 

And one of the City’s own maps carries a warning that, if selected, the project would flood the Cobb Middle School athletic field during severe storms. 

But here is the real head-scratcher. 

This is a dam in search of flooding. 

To justify the project, the City has assembled a map containing 34 red dots representing what it calls “reported stormwater problems.” It has cited flooding concerns throughout the area. It has persuaded community leaders that the project is urgently needed. And it is advancing a proposal that differs dramatically from the recommendation contained in its own earlier engineering study. 

There is just one problem. 

After reviewing a quarter-century of flooding complaints, engineering reports, studies, emails and public records connected to those 34 properties, Red Tape Florida found a collection of facts that are difficult to reconcile with the City’s narrative. 

Residents included on the map say they should not be there. 

Several red dots represent vacant City-owned lots. 

The City’s own consultant once recommended a different solution. 

The question bears repeating: 

Why is the City of Tallahassee so intent on building this dam? 

Welcome to the Mystery of the Cobb Dam. 

34 red dots 

Kimberly Studley really didn’t understand. She had experienced some minor stormwater issues on her property on McClendon Drive but was told by the City that it had nothing to do with the dam project. 

Yet, she discovered that her home was a “red dot” on the City map entitled: “HILLCREST & LUCY STREETS STORMWATER IMPROVEMENTS REPORTED PROBLEMS & FLOOD EXTENTS.” 

Here is what Studley wrote to the City: 

I recently learned despite the city staff themselves telling me my flooding issue was completely unrelated to the project, my property was then added to the dam project’s map as one of the “35 properties reporting stormwater issues” represented by a red dot. I understand that there are numerous other red dot properties on the project map like mine with flooding issues completely unrelated to anything the dam is supposed to fix. This has already misled the civic process and calls into question the project’s fiscal justifiability, especially with city-owned properties on Sauls Street available for use, not requiring the building of an expensive dam. 

That was in November of 2025. 

The Studley home is still a red dot on the City’s web site justifying the dam. 

There are a total of 34 dots on the map the City still has on its web site. Only 16 of them were on the red- and purple-colored areas on the map labeled as areas that are “flood extents” either now or after the dam is erected. 

But the map has obvious and deep flaws. 

Here is one of them – three red-dotted properties near the intersection of Saul Street and Spottswood Drive – are empty lots. 

The lots’ owner? The City. The three lots were purchased 10 years ago. Why would the city be including vacant, government-owned lots on a graphic justifying the construction of a multi-million-dollar dam?  

A 34-dot breakdown 

Here is a more detailed breakdown of the “red dots” which the City labels as “reported stormwater problems” on its map included in materials supporting the construction of the dam. 

• A dot in the Sequoia Drive area includes a resident complaint in 2024 that a pond at the end of Belmont Road was not being maintained and had become “a nesting site for rats.” The city found it was not a pond, but an undeveloped lot. An earlier 2002 finding on the same house from the City concluded: “The house does not have chronic flooding problems.” 

• A flood report in 2012 from a home on Devil’s Dip resulted in a visit from City officials who concluded “the flood was probably mainly due to seepage.” In other words, it had nothing to do with the drainage ditch to her south. The city official also pointed out that the homeowner’s gutters needed work. 

• A recurring theme is the ditch that runs from near Cobb all the way southeast, under Mahan to the neighborhood just northeast of the former home of the Tallahassee Democrat on Magnolia. The ditch often became clogged with debris. Ditch maintenance would obviously be millions of dollars cheaper than a large dam. 

• Another of the complaints was from a Brookwood Drive resident, who reported water in her yard overflowing from the ditch. The homeowner included pictures. But the City’s response was telling: “I called her back on August 6, 2018, and said that this was private property with no easements for drainage.” Three years later, after another complaint, the City decided it would work on the problem and sent out a crew to clear the ditch and drains. 

Twenty of the dots reference flooding from Tropical Storm Allison which plagued Texas and much of the southeast with copious amounts of rain as it meandered along the Gulf Coast in June of 2001 … more than 25 years ago. For perspective, Tropical Storm Allison led to the wettest 24-hour period in the recorded history of Tallahassee weather. More than 10 inches of rain fell – a once-in-a-century flood.  

Rather than asking readers to take our word for it, Red Tape Florida is publishing the City’s map and has made it interactive with links to the underlying records used to justify it. Review them yourself. Then decide whether they support construction of a jumbotron-sized dam. 

2010 recommendation: No dam 

The City of Tallahassee’s current push for a dam near Cobb Middle School is especially noteworthy because it differs from the recommendation contained in the City’s own 2010 engineering study. That study, prepared by GPI Southeast, a division of one of the nation’s larger engineering firms, examined flooding concerns in the area and evaluated multiple potential solutions. 

GPI concluded that the most appropriate course of action was not an upstream dam on school property, but rather a series of critical maintenance and safety upgrades to the existing drainage system. The firm found that those improvements could be completed within existing City rights-of-way, without acquiring land, obtaining major permits, or constructing a new stormwater facility. 

City checkbook data reviewed by Red Tape Florida shows that Eutaw, the local engineering firm now associated with the Hillcrest & Lucy stormwater project, has received $3,389,961.39 from the City since 2018 across 269 payments. Of that, $59,970.75 is identified in the City’s checkbook as payments for “Hillcrest & Lucy St Stormwater.” 

That may be the real mystery of the Cobb Dam. How did a City with a nearly $13 million stormwater operation, 88 stormwater and drainage employees, and multiple outside engineering consultants end up pursuing a major new dam on school property after an earlier City-commissioned study recommended a simpler path? 

Now, the questions 

Tallahassee utility customers are left with a lot of questions: 

If the City claims there is a widespread flooding crisis that justifies a large new dam, where is the proof of it? 

If the red-dot map is intended to demonstrate need, why do so many of the underlying records appear unrelated to the project? 

If the problem is as urgent as City officials suggest, why did the City’s own consultant recommend a different solution in 2010? 

If one documented in-home flooding event in the affected area occurred 25 years ago during a record-setting storm, what exactly is the emergency? 

And perhaps most importantly: 

Why does the City seem so eager to spend the millions and millions of dollars it will require to construct a dam that abuts two public schools? 

That last question is the one that lingers. 

June 16, 2026

We’re looking at you, Manatee, Brevard, Sarasota, Lake and Volusia 

By Skip Foster, Red Tape Florida 

Nobody who showed up to fight a housing development ever carried a sign that said “I oppose plumber jobs.” 

But that’s what they support. 

In the past 12 months, five Florida counties — Sarasota, Brevard, Manatee, Lake, and Volusia — blocked or effectively killed housing developments totaling 2,469 homes. In each case, the formula was familiar: concerned neighbors, packed commission chambers, petitions, warnings about traffic and flooding and neighborhood character. In each case, the commission obliged. 

Red Tape Florida applied the National Association of Home Builders’ Local Economic Impact Model — the industry standard for measuring residential construction’s economic footprint — to each of the five projects. The results should be posted on the wall of every county commission chamber in Florida. 

The Jobs Florida Never Created 

County	Project	Homes Blocked	Jobs Never Created	Income Never Generated
Manatee	Lennar / Lone Valley, Parrish	2,047	10,490	$763.8M
Brevard	June Park apartments	186	681	$49.6M
Sarasota	D.R. Horton / Celery Fields	126	635	$46.3M
Lake	Crescent Pines, Clermont (KB Home)	79	301	$21.9M
Volusia	Ormond Beach subdivision	31	111	$8.1M
TOTAL		2,469	12,218	$889.7M

Twelve thousand jobs. Nearly $900 million dollars in wages and income. Gone — not because of a recession, not because of a hurricane, not because of some market failure. Gone because of petition drives and planning board testimony and commission votes cast to preserve neighborhood character. 

The Manatee County figure alone should stop a room. In February 2026, commissioners unanimously denied Lennar Homes’ “Lone Valley” project — 2,047 single-family homes on 683 acres near Buckeye Road in Parrish. The vote is especially notable because the county’s own Planning Commission had already unanimously recommended approval. Professional planners endorsed it. Elected commissioners killed it anyway. The NAHB model puts the economic cost of that single vote at more than 10,000 jobs and $763 million in income. That is not a development project that was denied. That is an economy. 

Birds, Flooding, Trees, and Traffic 

The stated reasons varied by county. In Sarasota, it was proximity to the Celery Fields — a beloved bird sanctuary adjacent to the proposed D.R. Horton development. The commission rejected the project twice; D.R. Horton has since sued the county. In Ormond Beach, it was flooding concerns in a hurricane-battered Volusia County. In Brevard’s June Park community, 706 petition signatures produced a unanimous Planning and Zoning Board denial before the developer withdrew. In Lake County, commissioners denied the same 79-home Clermont subdivision twice — in November 2025 and again in April 2026 when KB Home returned with a reduced plan. In Manatee County, the Lone Valley project fell to concerns about nearby grocery stores, road capacity, and the pace of growth in a community that is, by all accounts, already growing rapidly. 

At an earlier Manatee County commission meeting on a separate but related housing denial, landowner Marilyn Moran — whose family has owned land in the area for over a century — offered the most direct assessment of what was happening: “Your decision today needs to be based on the evidence and the legal principles at issue, not unsupported, emotional pleas or the screeching of anti-development activists.” 

The commission voted no anyway. 

What the NAHB Model Tells Us 

The NAHB Local Economic Impact Model calculates three phases of economic impact from residential construction: the direct effect of construction activity itself, the ripple effect of construction workers spending their wages locally, and the ongoing annual effect of new residents paying property taxes and participating in the local economy. 

The jobs lost are not abstractions. They are carpenters, plumbers, electricians, roofers, painters, concrete finishers, and the truck drivers, lumber yard workers, hardware store clerks, and restaurant owners who depend on their paychecks. They are the kinds of jobs — blue-collar, trade-based, family-sustaining — that politicians across the spectrum claim to champion. 

There is also a second table that rarely gets discussed: the ongoing annual economic loss. Once those homes go unbuilt, thousands of jobs that should exist every year — generated by property tax revenue, resident spending, and local economic participation — also disappear. Permanently. 

County	Homes Blocked	Annual Ongoing Jobs Lost
Manatee	2,047	1,837
Brevard	186	119
Sarasota	126	111
Lake	79	53
Volusia	31	19
TOTAL	2,469	2,139 every year

A Statewide Pattern With a Local Address 

These five cases are not outliers. They are the visible tip of a statewide pattern documented repeatedly in Florida housing research. A 2024 report by the Florida Office of Program Policy Analysis found that local opposition to development is one of the primary drivers of housing unaffordability. 

The data connecting anti-growth sentiment to poverty, stagnant wages, and housing unaffordability is no longer theoretical. It is documented. It is measurable. It has a price — one paid not by the people who show up to commission meetings, but by the people who can never afford to. 

Next time someone hands a commissioner a petition against a housing development, someone should hand the commissioner these tables. 

June 12, 2026
By Skip Foster, Red Tape Florida