The Tantalizing Prospect of Moving On

Today's print column.

This sales tax campaign in Cedar Rapids has exposed one of my weaknesses.

I've been working here only three-and-a-half years. So I still lack an encyclopedic understanding of this city's past failures and governmental missteps. I have yet to internalize all the grudges, rivalries and feuds spawned in the decades before I arrived, or which side I'm on.

That's a pity, because it makes it much harder to figure out where to stand on important issues such as this. It seems a lot easier for others. They simply fall back on historic impulses and act accordingly. Lucky ducks.

I still think my adopted city and region have a lot of untapped potential, when I probably should get it through my thick skull that all these ambitious plans are never going to work. Never. Downtown's full of scheming elites. East hates west. Everything elected leaders touch will be a disaster.

When will I get it?

But I was here for the real disaster. The big one. I, like many of us, marveled at the initial, selfless response by a united community. And I've seen an arduous recovery that's shaken away our early resolve and sparked plenty of anger.

Old divides widened. New ones cracked open.

We've been exposed to the failures, limitations and lapses of democratically elected governments from City Hall to the White House. Our trust has been shaken and our institutions damaged in ways that most communities, luckily, never endure. It's no wonder that so many people look upon nearly every decision with seething skepticism.

I'm skeptical, too, but I'm also certain about one thing: Another massive flood will not make this better.

It will make it worse. Unthinkably worse. And I believe the weather watchers and flood experts who say it's not if, it's when. I don't believe an outdated Army Corps of Engineers model that says, based on history, we have little to fear.  There's too much at stake to risk the future by taking false comfort in the past.  

So what do we do? If I were in charge, I'd start a massive effort to change the way we use land in our watersheds. I'd marshal the vast power of state and federal government to alter the landscape, slow raging runoff.

But I'm not in charge. And those who do run the show aren't interested. It may be years, decades, before they summon the courage or bucks. Sad, but true.

The city has a protection plan, approved by two elected councils. It's not perfect. It's expensive. But it would vastly cut the city's risk. And if the tax passes, there's a decent chance the state and feds will chip in. Hopes for that help will fade if we wait much longer.

It also offers the tantalizing prospect of finally moving on, planning for the future instead of fighting over the past.

I've looked at many reasons to vote no. With each, I wondered whether it would sound reasonable when I explain it years from now to someone who just lost everything in the next big flood.

I haven't heard one that does. So I hope the tax passes.

Comments: (319) 398-8452; todd.dorman@sourcemedia.net