Mayor Mudhole

Maybe the Trinity project will sort out these mayoral candidates

This moment shall not pass. Sorry, but I have to ring the timeout bell right here.

The first major public political unraveling of the Trinity River expressway project took place last week in direct response to criticisms raised by Dallas City Council member Angela Hunt. Thanks to Hunt, the Trinity has become an issue in the mayor's race.

That's major.

Former airline CEO and turnaround artist Sam Coats, who is running for mayor, is one of several candidates concerned about the Trinity River project.
Brian Harkin
Former airline CEO and turnaround artist Sam Coats, who is running for mayor, is one of several candidates concerned about the Trinity River project.

I'm talking about the multibillion-dollar public works project to build a new freeway in the middle of that big park we were supposed to get along the Trinity River downtown.

Serious top contenders for the mayor's job in the upcoming May election—not dingbats, not wing nuts, not Dallas Observer columnists—raised serious concerns about the direction the project seems to be taking away from parks and toward roads.

At a forum sponsored by the political action committee of the MetroTex Association of Realtors, moderator Keven Ann Willey of The Dallas Morning News said, "What I am interested in hearing, what I think members of the audience would be interested in hearing, is each of your perspectives on whether you view this project more as a road project or as a park project.

"In other words, which priority would you pursue if you had to choose—giving up park land for the road to assure transportation goals, or would you realign the road, if necessary, to achieve recreational goals?"

Ring-ring, ring-ring. The bell. Please let me point out what is so surprising about that question, especially coming from somebody who works for the Morning News, which has long been a ham-fisted pusher of this project: That one question threatens to let a very big cat out of a very big bag.

For years the game has been never to admit there could even be a conflict between building lakes and parks next to the river and building a highway. Most people probably still think the project is OK. Why rock the boat, unless you happen to be in the boat-rocking business like me?

The vast majority of people in the city still think the Trinity River project consists of what they voted for in 1998—a beautiful lake downtown with sailboats and whitewater kayaking, surrounded by lovely parks and pavilions, very much like Town Lake in Austin.

But there is also an apathy about this project. When city council member Mitchell Rasansky was considering a run for mayor, he paid a pricey New York consultant to measure the importance or value of the Trinity project as a campaign issue. Rasansky showed me the results.


The Trinity project is just not very high on very many people's priority lists. It's not that people don't care. It's that people in this city have too many other concerns to care about first—crime, streets, schools, all the stuff we elected Laura Miller to take care of that she didn't. People just don't have time for the Trinity.

Plus, the Trinity project is impossibly complicated. The project has always been a set of clever public lies that fit one inside another like matryoshka, those little Russian nesting dolls. One is that the main purpose of the project is flood control. Another is that the project somehow achieves racial justice by linking north with south.

Another lie is that the expressway inside the park is necessary to relieve congestion in the "Mixmaster" freeway interchange downtown. A major lie is that the whole project, lakes and all, is paid for with federal and state highway dollars for the six-lane expressway in the park. In other words, the story is that the road pays for the lakes.

But the biggest lie is that it all nests together. Everything works. We can have the expressway, and we can have lakes, and we can have flood control, and we can have parks. Not a problem.

The backers of the project are morbidly sensitive to criticism of any kind, for good reason. They know full well that if people start to poke this thing at any point on its surface, the whole contraption of deceits falls apart in shambles.

An irony at the mayoral forum last week was that Councilman Ed Oakley, one of the project's biggest cheerleaders, said basically what I just said. But he thought he was defending it:

"If you start pulling out one of the threads, it's just like a suit," Oakley said. "It will unravel. You cannot pull out one piece or the other."

Pretty cheap suit, Ed.

These are decisions that will determine the future of the single biggest most important natural asset in the city after White Rock Lake—the river. These decisions will determine the nature of downtown for the foreseeable future.

Look how important this is, and then think about what Oakley is telling us. "You cannot pull out one piece or the other."

Why the hell not? Whose river does he think this is, anyway? The river does not belong to individual landholders. It's our river. The city's river. If we want to pull pieces out of the program, we damn well can.

But here is where they want to pull you back into the nesting lies: Oakley will tell you that you have to have the road, because it's money from the road that pays for the lakes and parks.

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