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

“The Comp Plan.” 

It’s one of the least understood – yet most important – documents in all of local government. 

It’s short for Comprehensive Plan, a state-mandated policy document that outlines goals, objectives, and policies for the physical development of the community over a 20- to 30-year horizon. It addresses land use, housing, transportation, conservation, infrastructure, and public services, and it is used to guide zoning, permitting, and capital improvement decisions. 

That’s a mouthful. 

As County Commissioner Nick Maddox pointed out at the last commission meeting, the fact that the new plan is causing everybody a bit of discomfort is evidence that it’s probably a good mix. The county commission approved the plan 6-1 with Commissioner Christian Caban laudably dissenting (more on that in a moment). 

So, what changed in the Comp Plan? According to experts consulted by Red Tape Florida, the most important change was making it less detailed. Tallahassee-Leon’s Comp plan has been notoriously long, compared to most others in the state. The result of that is a stifling of innovation and anything other than cookie-cutter development. 

The new plan shifts more responsibility to local officials and to the land development code. While this might seem dangerous to those mistrustful of bureaucrats, it actually puts more power in the hands of private property owners who find the comp plan virtually impossible to challenge. 

In recent days, the City of Tallahassee and Leon County have held public hearings on the new comp plan. These hearings marked a significant step in the region’s ongoing efforts to address housing affordability, manage growth, and enhance transportation infrastructure. 

The need for a comp plan is glaring – Tallahassee-Leon is losing investment dollars based on its current onerous restrictions, according to experts consulted by Red Tape Florida. 

The current plan is so detailed and impenetrable that it can lead to unintended consequences. For example, the current Comp plan requires an existing access to a canopy road be used, rather than a new access somewhere else on the property. That sounds good, but there has been at least one instance where an existing dirt road access required more trees to be taken out rather than a place elsewhere on the property where the canopy was less prolific. 

Now, there have been complaints from neighborhood groups falling into two main buckets: we don’t like the impact on our neighborhoods and the process has moved too slowly. 

Red Tape Florida will have more to say on those matters soon, but as a sneak peek, you should know that this process began around 8 years ago. 

A central focus of the plan is to tackle the city’s housing affordability crisis. By revising land use policies to encourage higher-density development and mixed-use zoning, the plan aims to increase the supply of affordable housing units. This approach is particularly crucial in areas experiencing rapid growth, where housing demand has outpaced supply, leading to escalating costs.  

That’s one reason Leon County Commissioner Christian Caban was the lone dissenting vote. He supported the plan advanced by staff, but did not approve of changes made at the county commission meeting that watered it down a bit. “If we’re looking at adding regulations to building homes in Leon County I think that will drive the cost of housing stock up and not do anything to increase the amount of homes with affordable housing,” Caban said. 

The City has not yet voted on the plan as that body lost a quorum at its last meeting due to illness and meeting conflicts. 

Tallahassee’s latest brainstorm? A proposed moratorium on new gas stations through the end of 2025. Because nothing says “forward-thinking governance” like halting business development in response to a single neighborhood’s discontent. This move, sparked by the Circle K controversy in the Canopy neighborhood, is less about urban planning and more about appeasing a vocal minority. 

Let’s be clear: new gas stations don’t sprout up because developers have a fetish for fuel pumps. They emerge in response to market demand. If there’s a need for more fueling options, businesses step in to meet it. It’s called capitalism — a system that, until recently, Tallahassee seemed to participate in. 

But now, the city is considering a blanket freeze on gas station development. Why? Because a group of homeowners in a single neighborhood didn’t want a Circle K nearby. Never mind that the proposed station met all zoning requirements and had been in the works for months. The city’s response? Threaten eminent domain, then pivot to a citywide moratorium. Talk about overkill. 

This isn’t just about gas stations. It’s about a troubling precedent: local government inserting itself into the free market, deciding which businesses are acceptable based on the whims of a few. Today it’s gas stations; tomorrow, will it be fast-food restaurants? Coffee shops? Where does it end? 

Moreover, this knee-jerk reaction undermines the city’s credibility. If businesses can’t trust that approved projects will proceed without political interference, why invest in Tallahassee at all? The message is clear: your investment is only as secure as the city’s latest PR crisis. 

Let’s also not kid ourselves about the so-called “evaluation period.” This isn’t some impartial study session. It’s a year-and-a-half timeout, cooked up under the guise of “planning,” when in reality, it’s a panic-driven overcorrection to a neighborhood spat. If Tallahassee genuinely cared about thoughtful zoning reform, it would follow its own existing planning processes — not slam the brakes on an entire sector of the economy while it figures out what it might want to do. 

And for those who think this is a visionary move, let’s look at other cities that have tried something similar. In Petaluma, California, outright bans ignited lawsuits and raised concerns about fuel access in lower-income neighborhoods. If Tallahassee wants to add itself to the list of overregulated cities that kill investment through regulatory whiplash, it’s well on its way. 

In the end, this moratorium isn’t about thoughtful urban planning or environmental stewardship. It’s about optics and short-term appeasement. And it’s a disservice to the principles of free enterprise and the long-term economic health of Tallahassee. 

For a city that prides itself on progress, this feels like a step backward. 

In the wake of a number of Red Tape Florida reports on the flailing Tallahassee airport, local government officials are rolling out a plan to throw money at airlines in hopes they’ll stay for more than a weekend. In the latest Blueprint agenda item, TLH outlines its strategy to use Minimum Revenue Guarantees (MRGs)—basically taxpayer-backed safety nets for airlines—as a shiny new tool to lure carriers into offering new routes. Of course, they stop just short of calling them “subsidies,” preferring euphemisms like “community-sponsored incentives.” But let’s call a spade a spade: if public dollars are handed to private airlines to offset risk and cover losses, that’s a subsidy in everything but the name. 

Right now, TLH says its hands are tied by FAA grant rules that limit airport-sponsored incentives to things like waiving facility fees and tossing in a few marketing dollars. Since other cities are sweetening the pot with off-airport money—courtesy of city halls, tourism boards, chambers of commerce, and anyone else with a public checkbook—TLH wants in on the game. So the solution? A $10 million MRG fund over 15 years, sourced from “economic development resources.” Translation: tax dollars from sources they hope no one scrutinizes too closely. 

That sounds lovely—until you remember this airport has been down this runway before. 

Take AirTran. In the early 2000s, the city threw more than $2 million in revenue guarantees and marketing support at them. The moment the money dried up, so did AirTran’s interest in Tallahassee. Or look at JetBlue, the most recent flame. TLH finally wooed the airline into launching service to Fort Lauderdale in 2024, thanks in part to over $3 million pledged by eager local boosters. But the route was pulled within months. It turns out you can’t bribe people into buying plane tickets they don’t want. 

The math is optimistic. According to TLH’s consultants, a $10 million investment will miraculously return $1.1 billion in economic impact and over 1,100 new jobs. How? Well, that part is fuzzy. The estimates are “based on assumptions” about aircraft size, load factors, airline strategy, and other conveniently unprovable forecasts. But don’t worry—they have charts. 

In practice, MRGs guarantee airlines a minimum revenue threshold. If a flight underperforms, the public makes up the difference. TLH even gives an example: a hypothetical airline flying from TLH to LaGuardia is guaranteed $1.5 million, but if it only makes $1.2 million, the city writes a check for the shortfall. Any leftover MRG funds get “rolled over” to lure in the next suitor. 

There’s a notable bit of revisionist history in how they discuss JetBlue’s now-defunct route to Fort Lauderdale. It flopped due to low performance—but TLH says that, had they had an MRG in place, they could’ve saved it. Or maybe just delayed the inevitable? The silver lining: fares dropped, traffic surged briefly, and they estimate consumers saved $620,000. Of course, JetBlue also bailed, but hey—stats! 

The document tries to spin this all as a win-win. Airlines reduce risk, passengers get lower fares, the city gets “economic impact,” and no one dares say “corporate welfare” out loud. But at its core, this is a bet that taxpayer-funded parachutes will entice airlines to stick around longer than the next quarterly earnings call. Whether that’s smart economic development or just subsidized hope remains to be seen. 

Tony Knox is a character. He has run for governor twice. He speaks his mind. 

But mainly, he shines shoes. 

Lots and lots of shoes. 

He had a gig at the Tallahassee airport for more than a decade in the 1990s and 2000s before his contract wasn’t renewed. 

The 72-year-old has shined the shoes of Jeb Bush and countless other politicians, lobbyists and members of the process. He’s worked the League of Cities convention every year since the year Ronald Reagan left office. 

And last year, he tried to get back into the Tallahassee airport to provide his services to the members of the process and other businesspeople who fly in and out of town. 

But Knox ran headlong into a lack of creativity and flexibility that have contributed to TLH being the most expensive airport in the country. 

Knox spoke with a lot of Tallahassee leaders about this – from commissioners to City Manager Reese Goad and finally Airport Director David Pollard, who asked to see a picture of what his stand would look like. 

The response from Pollard: it doesn’t match our new airport design. 

“He didn’t like the stain on the wood,” Knox said.  “He told me that have a beautiful airport and that the stand looks too bad. But they wouldn’t even tell me what they wanted the stand to look like.” 

Knox sent him the picture, which you see as a part of this story. 

Knox then asked if the airport wanted to design its own stand, but was told they couldn’t afford to do it. A recent piece in Red Tape Florida revealed that the airport has $1.5 more in revenue than expenses, with the excess shuttled off to the fire services fund or other unnamed general funds.  

Knox says the typical shoe stand costs a couple hundred dollars to construct. “The chair costs more than anything else,” he said. “You’re basically just building a small porch with one step.” 

But apparently the airport wanted something much grander and more expensive that would match TLH’s marble-heavy aesthetic. 

Knox doesn’t know about all of that – he just wants to work and meet people, and perhaps most importantly, train new workers. 

“Tony Knox isn’t going to stay there and shine shoes all day,” Knox said. “I teach a person how to work. I’ll teach you how to present yourself and shine shoes. Most people don’t even know how to talk to people.” 

Ryan Cohn, EVP and partner at Sachs Media in Tallahassee, has been a Knox customer and proponent of independent airport governance. He says Knox’s story is another example of the missed opportunities that hold the airport back. 

“Imagine if our airport actually felt like Tallahassee,” Cohn said. “Before your flight, you could sip a Lucky Goat latte while getting a shoeshine, browse local books from Midtown Reader, and buy handmade candy from Lofty Pursuits. That’s the kind of experience people remember.” 

“But that takes vision,” Cohn added. “Instead, we got an airport bar named after Monroe Street.” 

For his part, Knox says he isn’t giving up. 

“I just want to shine shoes,” he said. 

Sometimes, break even isn’t break even. 

At a high level, the City of Tallahassee budget site (which is a wonderful service to residents, by the way) shows that the Tallahassee Airport is spending exactly what it is taking in. 

But a deeper dive shows that is not the case. 

For years, the airport – with the highest fares in America – has been making a profit of more than $1.3 million. That money has been shuttled off to the fire services fund up until this most recent year when $1.506 was sent to what was simply described on the web site as “other funds.” 

What is “other funds?”  We can’t find it on the site. But it begs the question, why is the City making its most-expensive-in-the-nation airport a profit center. Sure, $1.5 million is only about 7.5 percent of the total budget, but the airport is the butt of local jokes and is an albatross around the city’s neck, why not reinvest that money into … something. 

Also, how about some local vendors in the airport?  

The book selection in TLH is embarrassing – couldn’t a local bookstore be a better alternative? What about a Lucky Goat, Red Eye or Ground Ops coffee shop? Why does everything have to be some vanilla airport vendor? 

And why is change always so off the table? 

This August piece in the Tallahassee Democrat featured some excellent arguments from Sachs Media executive Ryan Cohn on an airport authority, but City Manager Reese Goad dismissed the idea for no other reason than it had already been talked about before.  

That’s not good enough. 

The Greater Tallahassee Chamber – which had at one time strongly advocated for an authority – seems to have backed off that position and sided with Goad.  

We recently featured our own ideas on changing the dynamic at the airport, followed by some even better ones from local CEO Eddie Gonzalez Loumiet.  

Another way the airport could do better at holding down costs is through salary control. The total salary line for airport employees has increased around 30 percent since the 2021-2022 budget, from $4.13 million to $5.35 million. The rate of inflation during that period was around 18 percent.  

Dividing total FTEs (58) into total salary lines, gives an average salary of $92,313. 

It should also be noted that the airport has allocated expenses back to the city for functions that are well represented by airport personnel. For example, the airport sends $157,000 back to the “home office” for accounting expense even though there are 3 full-time equivalents (FTEs) listed in “Admin-Finance.” 

The bottom line: TLH airport — which isn’t growing, features the highest prices in the country and which isn’t exactly known for its stellar service — should be reinvesting every penny it makes into improvement.  

Red Tape Florida recently released an investigative piece on the slow growth and high fares at Tallahassee International Airport, and the feedback was enormous.

Local Tallahassee resident, Co-Founder of Launch Tally and WellConnector and Sr Advisor, Informatics Strategy, APHL Board Chair at Ruvos, Eddie Gonzalez Loumiet weighed in on the issue at hand and offered some insightful suggestions.

Here are some ideas…some may already be in the works and some may not make sense for our region but maybe it will keep the conversation going…we need to think differently…

Build a Regional Air Alliance

• Form a multi-county/regional partnership with neighboring counties and cities to jointly market TLH as the airport for the broader region (not just Tallahassee).
• Leverage joint funding for incentives to attract airlines

Create a “Fly TLH” Incentive Program

• Offer rebates or local tax credits to businesses that book a minimum number of flights through TLH annually.
• Develop a frequent flyer cash-back or perks system that rewards residents who consistently choose TLH over Jacksonville or Panama City.

Develop an Airline Incubator Program

• Partner with start-up regional airlines or charter operators and help incubate new routes with subsidized landing fees, marketing help, and operational support.
• Pitch TLH as a test market for new short-haul or hybrid models (examples: semi-private flights or subscription-based air service like JSX).

Strategic Public-Private Partnership

• Create a public-private fund involving FSU, FAMU, TSC, major local employers, and the state to subsidize or offset the financial risk for new airlines/routes.
• Example: Amazon, Apple, or JetBlue helped fund new airport developments in other markets. It could also be a way to attract them to do business in our region.

Tech + Travel Innovation Hub (one of my favorites)

• Position TLH as a smart airport innovation zone, inviting tech startups to test autonomous luggage handling, biometric security, or AI-enhanced travel experiences. We can be a beta testing ground..make it easy for these companies to do biz in Tallahassee.

Redefine TLH’s Brand

• Launch a bold rebranding campaign that positions TLH as “The Capital Gateway” or “The Smartest Airport in the South.” We have a ton of smart marketing folks in our community..they can come together (work as one) to help.

Now, if we want to change the game…we will need a quarterback willing to lead the vision and execute.

Oh, there is one more….Free Parking.

Offering free parking at TLH could be a game-changing incentive….especially in a city like Tallahassee, where travelers drive to the airport.

Immediate traveler savings: For many, parking adds $50–$100 to a trip. Free parking makes TLH more competitive vs. JAX or Panama City. And it is not only about the $ but the time and convenience…how many people get a family member to drop them off at the airport at 5AM or get picked up at 11PM to save on parking…..

Behavior shift: People often drive 2–3 hours to fly cheaper. Free parking could help tip the balance back in TLH’s favor—especially for last-minute or short trips.

Perceived value: “Free parking” is simple and powerful marketing ….easy to remember, easy to sell. To me this is the best part. The publicity alone could drive more attention to TLH as we are thinking different about travel.

“Fly TLH Free Parking” Program

Why not try it? Conduct a pilot program for 12–18 months offering free parking for travelers who book through TLH (would require proof of boarding pass).

Could be tiered: first 3–5 days free, then reduced pricing. We won’t know if it will work if we don’t try it…

Free Parking for Loyalty

Partner with local banks, business groups, or airlie to offer free or discounted parking based on flight frequency, employer affiliation (state worker, FSU/FAMU/TSC, etc.), or enrollment in a “TLH Perks” program.

Weekend or Off-Peak Parking Free

Free parking Friday–Sunday or for early morning/late-night flights to encourage use of underutilized times. Again, proof of a boarding pass is needed.

Free Parking as a Business Incentive

Offer companies and agencies free airport parking for employees who book business travel from TLH

Make it part of Tallahassee’s business retention and expansion strategy.

Amplify the Strategy

Combine free parking with targeted airline recruitment, marketing, and economic development initiatives.

Use it as leverage in regional business conversations: “We don’t just want you to stay in Tallahassee—we’ll make it easier for your people to travel too.”

Just some initial thoughts and ideas…..

(Why is one almost triple the other?) 

How much is a fair discount for work not done by local government? And why does that question have so many different answers, even within the same county? 

Red Tape Florida took a look at work done by private providers – businesses who do electrical inspections and the like. 

Florida law is crystal clear – if a homeowner or contractor uses a private provider inspector to perform electrical or other types of building inspections in lieu of the local building official, the local government must discount the permit fees by the amount of the cost savings realized for not having to perform the services. 

In Leon County, that discount is 60 percent. Same in Bay County. In the city of Clearwater, it’s 50 percent. In Martin County, it’s 65 percent. 

But in Tallahassee, that number is just 20 percent.  

Why? 

The fee for the permit is supposed to cover the costs incurred by the government. In fact, statutes require building departments to operate as enterprise funds. They are only allowed to use the revenue generated from permit fees to fund the operation of the department. But Tallahassee is taking 80 percent of the money it would receive for doing the inspection itself, even though it’s not actually doing the work. Which also begs the question of where that money is going? 

According to John Reddick, the City of Tallahassee’s Growth Management Director, it’s because of the city’s “maintaining of high-quality service.” 

“Due to the relatively larger scale of projects in the city limits, the types of construction and requests from builders can demand significant time and attention from staff,” Reddick said.  

But the actual providers have another theory – that the city simply doesn’t want private providers to do the work. That was the case in Bay County before a lawsuit was filed by Al Wilson, who runs a private company called the Florida Building Code Compliance Authority. Bay County was giving just a 25 percent discount to private providers, much less than the discount mandated by statutes. 

After successful litigation, Bay County is now up to 60 percent, which means hundreds of dollars per inspection no longer flow into local government coffers in exchange for no work being done. 

But lest you think this is inside baseball for builders, contractors and developers, the people actually paying this added expense are the eventual homebuyers. It’s part of the reason why overregulation is such an underreported factor when it comes to the affordable housing crisis.  

“These local governments are just thumbing their nose at the will of the Legislature,” said Wilson, who has become a crusader against overregulation. “They take money for work they don’t do, and force you to sue them to make it right. 

“But the people paying the price aren’t people like me, it’s the homebuyer. When you start adding up a few hundred dollars here and a few thousand dollars there, it can really make a huge difference in the eventual sales price,” Wilson said. 

What’s stark about the situation in the state capital is that right across the street at Leon County’s office, the discount is 60 percent – about three times what Tallahassee is offering. 

Why is Leon County so much higher than the City of Tallahassee? 

According to Justin Poole, Leon Director of Building Plans Review and Inspection, the number was determined by his predecessor 6 years ago. But he thinks it’s too high. 

“After six years of experience with private provider projects, I can easily say that 60 percent is too much of a discount,” Poole said.  “Dealing with private provider projects is an administrative nightmare, and in my opinion, the discount should be around 25 percent.”   

Stay tuned for future updates… 

The controversy over proposed changes to Thomasville Road in midtown Tallahassee generated overwhelming opposition from local businesses, commuters, and residents alike.  

On one hand, it’s a great example of how broad and admirable visions – in this case, improving the overall attractiveness of Midtown – don’t always survive the descent into the nitty gritty details of implementation. 

Folks spent a lot of time developing a vision for Midtown and, in many ways, it is a good one – a more vibrant, walkable destination area where businesses can flourish.  

But as the Midtown plan pertains to the southern end of Thomasville Road, it simply didn’t pass the common sense test – eliminating a left turn lane would have been disastrous move for commuters and businesses. And it likely wouldn’t have mattered because few of them would have survived two years of the vital road being converted to one way southbound. 

We are relieved that FDOT killed the Blueprint-driven plan, sparing businesses and commuters from what could have been an economic disaster for that area of town. 

Taking a step back, however, Red Tape Florida believes this is a symptom of a larger problem – Tallahassee seems to be a one-trick pony of “placemaking,” without a true vision or understanding of how to grow a retail economy.  While murals, landscaping, and wider sidewalks may enhance an area’s aesthetic appeal, they are not enough to grow a thriving retail economy. 

Midtown’s future success requires more than cosmetic changes; it demands a serious strategy for attracting and sustaining retail businesses. 

While it is now clear that Blueprint citizen engagement badly missed the mark, something else caught our eye. The survey of residents about what to do in Midtown was notable for what was NOT included as options for a response. Blueprint asked survey takers to rank the following in importance: bicycle facilities, bus stops and amenities, congestion relief, pedestrian facilities, placemaking, travel speeds and signage and wayfinding.  

Notably absent from the survey? Business development and parking. The entire survey is devoid of anything that might help drive some actual commerce. 

Making a difference is going to require some new thinking, not just from local government, but from folks in nearby residential areas who too often take a NIMBY (not in my backyard) approach. 

The area will never become a thriving walkable area until there is a critical mass of places to walk. Right now, a smattering of wonderful restaurants and retail establishments are surrounded by non-retail establishments such as associations, law offices, accountants, office parks and even an oil-change shop.  But, visionary public officials would realize that we need a level of retail density in the area that attracts and engages strolling shoppers.   

How can they help achieve that vision?  Re-write our local building code so that it embraces flexibility in retail design and makes it easier and faster to get building permits.  Usher in a cultural change so that Tallahassee’s permitting bureaucracy looks for a way to say “yes” instead of tolerating a bureaucracy that loves to say “no.”  And, expand to the Midtown area the successful grant programs, such as the ones used by Tallahassee’s Community Redevelopment Agency. These are programs that help finance new retail construction and façade improvements.    

And then, of course, the issue of parking simply must be addressed. There isn’t nearly enough of it, even for existing businesses. A plan for a garage was shouted down by nearby residents who want their cake – a quiet walkable area – and eat it, too (preferably at a place they can walk to).  

The irony? A central parking facility encourages walking by getting people out of their cars and onto the sidewalks. And perhaps a surge in retail activity would make it easier for business owners to survive new traffic patterns rather than take it in the teeth while lipstick is put on the pig. 

Tallahasseeans often look longingly north to the bustling downtown across the Georgia state line. But downtown Thomasville isn’t a destination because of cobblestone streets and fancy light fixtures. It works because of a healthy glut of retail. Parking is easy. Shopping is prolific. It’s safe and easy and thriving …. that’s what real placemaking looks like. 

The intersection of local government and private business is never simple. But it’s time for Tallahassee to run some new plays – and one of them should be to develop a strategy specifically designed to grow retail. Midtown seems as good of a place as any to start. 

In other words, let’s take a sharp turn toward a business-first approach to placemaking. 

An inside look at Tallahassee’s midtown debacle 

By Skip Foster, Red Tape Florida 

The story of last week’s Thomasville Road controversy started 15 years ago. 

But the key date was, believe it or not, Nov. 9, 2019, when a small group of people unwittingly set into motion the series of events that culminated with a community-wide uproar. 

Before we get there, let’s start with some background. 

When vision collides with common sense 

About 15 years ago, a committee of local residents set out to make Midtown Tallahassee a more livable, walkable, and vibrant place. These well-intentioned volunteers came up with a grand plan that sounded like something anyone would support – spacious sidewalks, lush landscaping and vibrant public spaces aimed at boosting economic development. 

But a funny thing happened on the way to actual implementation. It turns out, what the local bureaucracy thought was appropriate public engagement and communication, actually resulted in just 30 people deciding the future fate of Midtown.  

And what those 30 people chose was not just wildly unpopular, it was viewed as openly hostile to businesses and to workers who commute through one of the city’s most vital arteries. 

Most critically, the conversion of Thomasville Road to one-way traffic for two years — a move that could cripple businesses — was never disclosed to the very property owners with whom local government was negotiating for right of way access. As a result, business owners only recently learned about a change that could devastate their livelihoods. 

In fact, the two-year, one-way plan doesn’t appear in any documents reviewed by Red Tape Florida. 

Not in the Midtown placemaking committee. Not in any documents of the Capital Regional Transportation Planning Authority (CRPTA). Not in Blueprint. Not in either the Tallahassee City Commission or Leon County Commission. 

Some Midtown property owners only found out after they had negotiated the sale of their property rights. Heartbreakingly, multiple business owners shared that their employees  started asking last week if their jobs are in jeopardy because of the plan.  

While Friday’s decision by FDOT to kill the Blueprint Midtown placemaking plan was welcomed by most in Tallahassee, it almost didn’t happen.  

Red Tape Florida has learned that even the office of Florida Governor Ron DeSantis became engaged on the issue, making it clear to all stakeholders that Blueprint-proposed changes to Thomasville Road were a non-starter. 

Here is Red Tape Florida’s inside story of how a Tallahassee “placemaking” project collided head on with common sense.  

From idea to implementation 

The Midtown Action Plan – which became a part of the Blueprint process — was the product of discussion that began as early as 2009. A working group was formed, consisting of heads of local business and neighborhood associations, private business owners and two retailers. Sadly, the two retailers have since gone out of business. 

The plan that resulted from this effort is filled with aesthetic and brand improvements to the area which encompasses part of the Thomasville Road and N. Monroe corridors, such as murals, colorful planters, “xeriscaping” and such. 

Then the plan moved into an implementation phase. For years, elements of the plan materialized in small increments, such as the North Monroe/Lake Ella pedestrian crossing. 

However, initial references to Thomasville Road were vague and the plan initially only spoke only in broad generalities. 

By 2019, some specifics were taking shape and a communications plan was implemented. Blueprint, in collaboration with CRPTA, held a public meeting at the Tallahassee Senior Center on November 9 and asked attendees to vote on three options for changes to Thomasville Road in Midtown. 

Options 1 and 2 both eliminated the turn lane and had minor differences with regards to sidewalks. Option 3 kept the turn lane, except it converted to a median where there is no place to turn. 

There were 49 total votes. That’s less than 2 ten thousandths of the county’s 2019 population of just over 293,000 residents. Option 2 — eliminating the turn lane — was the “winner” with just 30 votes.  

Did commissioners understand the vote? 

Those 30 people voting at the senior center ultimately led to the solution that was approved by the CRTPA board, which included three Tallahassee City Commissioners (Jeremy Matlow, Curtis Richardson and Dianne Williams-Cox) and four Leon County Commissioners (Bryan Desloge, Kristin Dozier, Nick Maddox and Rick Minor) 

But what presentation was shown to the CRTPA board that led to its approval on Oct. 19. 2020? 

Well, let’s look at two consecutive slides. First, a slide showing how many people were engaged in the process. 

While 883 people were reportedly engaged in the public process, the vast majority of those were from a survey that didn’t clearly include the elimination of the turn lane on Thomasville Road as an option. It also remains unclear how many “unique” participants this entails – that is, were there repeat attendees? 

Now, here is the next slide commissioners on the CRTPA would have seen: 

See that 61 percent number? Well, remember the vote at the senior center? 30 votes for Option 2, divided by 49 total votes equals … you guessed it … 61 percent. One has to wonder if commissioners thought that 61 percent of the total number of people engaged in the process supported eliminating the turn lane, rather than just 30 people (note: Blueprint literature does not mention whether other stakeholders were surveyed on those three specific options). 

Blueprint board buried in paperwork 

Next stop for the Midtown plan was the Dec. 10, 2020, meeting of the Blueprint IA board (made up of all five city commissioners and all seven county commissioners). 

The Midtown plan appeared in what is called “consent” — a block of items that are approved together, usually unanimously without any discussion. The 595-page Blueprint agenda included 62 pages of information on the Midtown placemaking plan. References to the elimination of the turn lane were on pages 110 and 112. There was no mention of the road becoming one way for the two years of work on the project. 

The minutes show that the consent package, including the Midtown placemaking plan, were approved 12-0 without discussion of the plan. 

Businesses Left in the Dark 

The next major development in the project seems to be September of 2024, when property owners along Thomasville Road received a letter about right of way acquisition. The letter included the same literature and renderings about eliminating the left turn lane. 

But it did not include any mention – none – of Thomasville Road becoming one-way for two years. In fact, there is no mention of that reality in any Blueprint literature reviewed by Red Tape Florida. And, of the four business owners contacted by Red Tape Florida, none knew of the “one way for two years” plan until the last week or two. 

It should also be noted that there does not appear to be any media coverage of the plan to eliminate the turn lane and at least two business owners on the impacted stretch of Thomasville Road did not know about that facet of the project until just a couple of weeks ago. 

For perspective, here is how Blueprint describes its public engagement policy: 

Did FDOT save the day? 

So, where does the Florida Department of Transportation come in? 

The Blueprint project was initially aligned with a planned Florida Department of Transportation (FDOT) repaving project. The idea was to complete both projects simultaneously, along with utility maintenance. 

But, ultimately, all parties must agree to the entire scope, including the Blueprint plan. Put another way, as FDOT officials made it clear to multiple attendees during the March 4 open forum on the project: “It’s our road.”  

FDOT officials were already strongly hinting to some in the overwhelmingly opposed-to-the-new-plan March 4 crowd that the state would likely reject the plan, given the level of opposition. Three days later, they made it official. 

To FDOT’s further credit, in the days before the public meeting, Project Manager Travis Justice and his team took steps to inform Midtown businesses by proactively visiting  them to alert them about the impact of the project and make them aware of the public meeting.  

FDOT was concerned there hadn’t been adequate communication. 

Where do we go from here? 

It will be interesting to see how city and county commissioners deal with the fallout from this meeting. Red Tape Florida has learned that more than one commissioner has expressed frustration that Blueprint so badly missed the public’s wishes when it comes to this plan. Blueprint apparently went to some lengths to engage the public, but why aren’t they getting a true sense of what the community wants? What other decisions have been made with incomplete or inaccurate community input? 

For now, when it comes to Thomasville Road, FDOT has bailed out the community and prevented Blueprint from taking a wrong turn. 

By Skip Foster, Red Tape Florida 

Tallahassee — While the stories of red tape in Tallahassee are legendary and will be chronicled on this site, Red Tape Florida is also committed to showing when things are done the right way. The City of Tallahassee’s urban design studio, called DesignWorks, is a good example of a local government success story. 

Here’s how it works: DesignWorks serves as a problem-solving hub for builders, developers, and citizens navigating local regulations. Citizens, builders and developers bring a problem to DesignWorks. The team goes to work coming up with solutions, all the while getting input from all the potential stakeholders, such as the local government teams that regulate stormwater, traffic and engineering, etc. 

The DesignWorks team then comes back with potential solutions that have already incorporated feedback from all the individual departments from which the builder would have had to seek approval. 

The result? A collaborative approach that helps projects move forward efficiently, with solutions crafted upfront to avoid bureaucratic roadblocks later. 

Todd Sperry, of OliverSperry Renovation, is a big fan. 

“Regular permitting is black or white,” Sperry said. “But with this you can work with them more conceptually. The attitude is ‘how can we make you compliant with regulations.’ 

“If they can’t, they can deviate on the project because they have been in it with us from the start,” Sperry said. 

The list of DesignWorks-aided projects is impressive – Champions Ranch, the new Charlie Ward-led sports and recreation complex; Camelia Oaks, a 55-plus residential neighborhood off Mahan Road; Il Lusso and the Ballard building, an urban project in downtown Tallahassee; and smaller projects in the Bond neighborhood.  

For Sperry, it was a project in the All Saints neighborhood. 

“We had a lot that stretched between two streets – it was in violation of four different zoning regulations,” Sperry said. “They said: ‘We aren’t going to let a black-and-white interpretation get int the way of the whole project – we’re going to look holistically first.’” 

The project was ultimately completed successfully. 

Artie White, the Director of the joint city-county organization PLACE, which is over DesignWorks, said the program has its roots as far back as 2000, but was formalized in 2012.  

White says that while 75 percent of DesignWorks projects are in the private sector, government projects are also run through the program to maximize efficiency and creativity. The department handled 151 projects in the last full fiscal year. 

Mike Alfano, Administrator of Special Projects and Neighborhood and Urban Design, said inquiries to DesignWorks are usually quite open ended. “People reach out or are referred to us from city or county growth management. They come into us and the ask can range from ‘hey I have a piece of property and I don’t know what I can do.’ 

“Or, ‘hey I want to do some things but how?’”  

Alfano said DesignWorks planners then develop site plan concepts that can jumpstart the development process. 

Both Alfano and White hasten to add that the program isn’t just for big builders – individuals can go to DesignWorks for smaller projects on the property. 

One thing DesignWorks does not want to do is take business away from private sector engineers or architects.  

“We are very cognizant of not competing with the private sector,” White said. “It’s more ideation and hand-drawn sketches.”  

Sperry is hopeful the collaborative mindset and spirit of DesignWorks can permeate into the lower-level regulatory departments.  

“Everybody – from environmental codes, building codes, zoning codes, solid waste, driveway people — everybody is pass/fail,” Sperry said. “If you have a problem with one, you’ve got to figure it out or you don’t move forward.” 

With the design studio, it’s more collaborative and “can do,” he said. 

“They have a mindset there that I wish we had on the regulatory side – they try to help you rather than restrict you.”