A Piece of the Rock

A Piece of the Rock

government watch by Jean Gruss | Editor/Lee-Collier

A small but vocal band of residents in southeast Lee County is threatening Southwest Florida's economy. Who will stand up to them?

Lee County is sitting on a gold mine.

Actually, it's limestone rock, but in Florida it's as good as gold. That's because limestone rock is a critical ingredient in every sort of construction project - from roads to buildings - that has fueled Southwest Florida's economic boom.

By some estimates, there could be as much as $10 billion worth of this rock under a sparsely populated, 83,000-acre area of southeastern Lee County.

What makes the limestone rock in Lee County so special is that it's a rare form that is strong enough to use in most types of construction. Only a few areas of the state have it: Miami and Brooksville are two others with substantial veins.

It's so critical to Florida's economy that state legislators have threatened to take away local officials' power to decide where new mines can or can't be developed. Legislation inserted into a transportation bill signed into law by Gov. Charlie Crist this spring gives legislators just such authority.

It's easy to understand why: Halting mining of such an essential commodity would send construction materials soaring, boosting the cost of such critical projects as the widening of Interstate 75 and threatening to hurt the now struggling construction-dependent economy of Florida.

But a small, vocal band of about 400 recent residents who moved into that area of southeastern Lee County in recent years is demanding a halt to decades of mining. Some environmental groups who also oppose mining have joined them, albeit for different reasons. In response - and despite the area already planned for mining - Lee County commissioners are scheduled to impose a one-year moratorium on all new rezoning applications and plan amendments starting in about a month.

How could a small group of people who moved into an area they knew was set aside for mining hijack a $10-billion industry that could significantly hurt the state's prospects for economic growth?

"You now understand why people get real upset," says Thomas Missimer, a Fort Myers expert on the area's geology who has performed numerous studies in the area.

Mining companies are looking aghast at what's happened to similar operations in Miami-Dade County, where a legal assault by residents and environmentalists earlier this year prompted a judge to halt limestone rock mining on hundreds of acres in an area known as the Lake Belt.

The economic result of that lawsuit already has been dramatic. The cost of limestone rock for road construction is expected to double to $30 per ton by January, according to calculations by the Florida Department of Transportation (FDOT).

"That's the reason the DOT is coming forward and speaking at county commission meetings urging them not to impose moratoriums," says Deborah Snyder, district materials engineer for the DOT in Bartow.

"We're following it very closely," says Scott McCaleb, vice president of Florida Rock Industries. The Jacksonville-based company owns 8,000 acres in southeast Lee County. "It's the highest quality rock in that area."

"The entire building industry needs mining," says Richard Friday, chief financial officer of Youngquist Brothers. The company owns 2,000 acres in southeast Lee County and is partners in another proposed mining on 1,360 acres. "It's not like they have other places to go; that's where the right rock is."

Commissioners utter the M word

How did it come to a moratorium?

After all, imposing a moratorium is the most radical action a county commission can take. Right or not, it suggests that local government is unable to manage complex problems. Moreover, it sends a signal that the county is hostile to the specific industry and unfriendly to business in general.

The 83,000 acres that contains the coveted limestone rock is an area county commissioners set aside in 1989 to comply with the state's planning requirements. At the time, southeastern Lee County was far from residences in Fort Myers, Bonita Springs and Naples.

A number of uses have been allowed in this area for decades, including agriculture and mining. Residences are allowed too so long as each home sits on at least 10 acres. But for a long time, few people lived in that area. Mining, citrus farming and cattle grazing takes place on over half of the land. Over the years, the county has purchased over one third of the land and set it aside for conservation and to dig wells from which to pump fresh water for fast-growing municipalities.

But as Lee County's population grew dramatically in recent years, people started moving to this remote part of the county in search of a rural lifestyle. Now, they're banging on commissioners' doors urging them to stop mining near their homes.

Meanwhile, environmentalists are jumping into the fray, arguing that sensitive wetlands and precious water supplies in that area are at risk. "It's not like our water problems are getting any better around here," says Andrew McElwaine, president and CEO of the Conservancy of Southwest Florida in Naples. "It's a high priority for us."

Commissioners say a one-year moratorium is needed to develop a comprehensive plan for that area. "It's not drastic," insists Ray Judah, the county commissioner whose district encompasses the area in question.

But clearly Judah and other commissioners are worried that their power to regulate where mining takes place might be taken away by the legislature. "I don't see halting mining," Judah says. "The legislature would take action and preempt local government. The state is looking at it as a state resource."

"We need to move as quickly as possible," says Tammy Hall, another Lee County commissioner. If the legislature decides the county is dawdling on the issue, it may take over mining decisions in Lee County as early as the next legislative session in March, she warns.

No lines in the sand

Behind the scenes, various interests are wrangling over what will happen next. Most likely, the county will establish a committee to study the issue and make a recommendation to the county commissioners.

The makeup of the committee will be crucial to the outcome of the decision. "It may be politically appointed," says Judah.

But that's one thing many large landowners fear.

Dennis Gilkey, a consultant to some of the major mining and agriculture interests, says there should be an emphasis on landowner participation. Landowners should pick representatives to any committee, not politicians, he says.

"People have to be very careful not to draw lines in the sand," says Ron Inge, president of Development Solutions and chairman of the business climate task force of the Horizon Council, an economic development group in Lee County.

Landowners who have an economic interest in the area should be the ones who have the most say in any outcome. "They have to have a seat at the table," says Hall, one of the more pro-business commissioners.

For now, mining companies are conciliatory, arguing that mining can coexist with homes, agriculture and environmental protection. "I feel for the people who are out there and I am not diminishing their rights for quiet enjoyment of their property," says Youngquist's Friday. In fact, Youngquist Bros. patriarch Harvey Youngquist Sr. lives across the road from a proposed mining project. "There are ways for mines and residences to coexist."

Meanwhile, some environmental groups realize any planning involves compromise. "We're not going to take the position that you can't mine anywhere at any time," says McElwaine. "We recommend a comprehensive analysis."

One positive outcome is that any plan will create certainty for landowners in southeast Lee County. "It's about time for the county to start looking at this," says Russell Schropp, an attorney with the Fort Myers law firm of Henderson Franklin who represents large landowners. "It's time to do this once and for all."

Paving over the limestone

They call it Tamiami Limestone.

It's the two-million-year-old limestone rock found in some parts of Lee and Collier counties that is durable enough to be used in construction projects across the region, from roads to office buildings.

According to a March report by Lampl Herbert Consultants and commissioned by the Florida Department of Transportation, the area's remaining limestone rock reserves are literally being built over because of rapid land development.

For example, the Rinker Mine in south-central Lee County has reserves through 2014 and development of surrounding land has blocked any future expansion.

This matters because FDOT is the largest consumer of this kind of rock in the state, which itself is the third largest consumer of crushed rock in the country. It's understandable why the state considers it a strategic resource.

REVIEW SUMMARY

Industry. Mining

Trend. Residential encroachment threatens Florida mines

Key. Miners face activist judges, environmentalists and not-in-my-backyard residents who want them shut down.