The Commonwealth of Virginia uses as its slogan “Virginia is
for Lovers.” After watching hurricane
Isaac make its way toward the United States, I figure Virginia’s slogan should be “We Listen to Civil
Engineers.”
For hours on end, reporters dripping water and peppered with
beach sand, from The Weather Channel, broadcast seemingly endless stories from
various locations along the Gulf of Mexico about what they perceive to be the
beginning of the end of sunny Florida.
But, as a bonus, this year is special because the Republican
National Convention was scheduled to be held in Tampa, Florida. Tampa is located mid-way up the west coast of
Florida, and the only reason to hold anything there in August is the fact the
snow birds are gone. Otherwise, Florida
in August can best be described as hot, humid, geriatric, and miserable during
the summer months. I know; I’ve been
there.
Pictures from those weather reports show one bay after
another, full of yachts and Red Cross workers, dotting the landscape awaiting
the next significant weather report form the Hurricane Center. In the background is a large building where
this convention is to be held except for the delegates and speakers that
cannot, or will not, attend due to the weather which may, or may not, be
inclement.
Yes, originally anticipated to make shore – calculated with
the help of scientific algorithms – near Tampa, many attendees have chosen to
remain absent from the festivities. This
is not a slam against Republicans, who need to get their hands on a good
almanac. Rather, it is a slam against
the people who thought it would be a brilliant idea to build this convention
center on the water, at water level.
Woes of flooding this venue caused hand-wringing rarely seen
before in history. All of this angst
could have been prevented if only the Tampa, Florida, planners has taken a page
from the Virginia Book for Civil Engineers.
Actually, there may not even be a book with that title but,
rules for building on The Eastern Shore come from somewhere. And that somewhere now appears to be pretty
valuable.
The Eastern Shore, like Florida, is a place you either love
or hate. The Shore, however, consists of
a major road – Route 13 – surrounded by homes and farms and swampland. Already pretty wet and pretty low-lying, this
territory is prone to flooding under the best conditions.
Maps in the Accomack Planning Office are color-coded red to
denote areas that are inclined to be affected by some high tides, nor’easters,
and hurricanes. For your information, most
of those maps are entirely red.
Therefore, building anything new – other than an ark - in those areas
require the living structure be elevated high enough off the ground to
accommodate most kinds of water damage.
Period. End of discussion.
But, it seems as though similar rules don’t apply to similar
areas in Tampa. If a hurricane flood
surged eight-feet four years ago, so what?
No need to take any precautions in case another storm meanders through
the general vicinity.
Just as with The Shore, I like Florida, although Florida
doesn’t have nearly enough mosquitos.
And based upon Florida’s penchant for building at levels predisposed to
flooding, their civil engineers would do themselves a favor by visiting
Accomack County, Virginia.
I’m just sayin’.
