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Sunday Edition: Benches and Trees and Film Grants, Oh My!

Editor's notes on a week packed with news stories: The DSA’s homemade bus-stop benches cause different flavors of furor, a former Wilmington councilman has some harsh words after the city cuts down oak trees on his street, and the state’s film grant program has spent through its reserve fund — now what?

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Bench Press

A bench built by the Wilmington Democratic Socialists of America at a bus stop on Market Street.
Benjamin Schachtman
/
WHQR
A bench built by the Wilmington Democratic Socialists of America at a bus stop on Market Street.

Last week, my colleague Kelly Kenoyer wrote a story about homemade benches being distributed to bus stops around town by the Democratic Socialists of America’s Wilmington chapter.

The DSA has built over 30 benches, made with reclaimed wood and leftover paint, in an intentional effort to minimize both cost and waste. The benches are adorned with quotes and slogans, some more overtly political — like “rent freeze now” — than others, like a call to protect native Venus Flytrap plants or Prince’s classic chaismus about the music business, “if you don’t own the masters, the masters will own you.”

You can probably guess which type prompted complaints for residents.

In an online statement, DSA said they don't find any of their slogans to be controversial, although many obviously disagree, including those who reached out to city council and staff at the Cape Fear Public Transportation Authority (WAVE), the public transit agency run by a board with appointments from Wilmington and New Hanover County.

Since then, Port City Daily and WWAY have also run stories on the benches, and I’ve heard WECT is planning to report on the issue, as well. There’s also been a fair amount of social media debate among Democrats, and some amusement and anger among Republicans.

There are basically two different issues here.

The first is the bureaucratic and liability problem: these benches haven’t been engineered or permitted, and it’s not clear the DSA can legally put them at the bus stops, which are located on City of Wilmington or NCDOT right-of-ways. There are state guidelines for benches and bus stops that these benches don’t appear to meet. And, as WAVE officials told WHQR, they’re not bolted down — which could make them both dangerous and a potential legal liability in the event of a storm, or even if a litigious bus rider falls off a bench, or sits on one that breaks.

Getting a properly permitted, engineered, and installed bench costs about $5,000; a full bus-stop shelter costs closer to $20,000. And less than 25% of bus stops have either a shelter or even just a bench.

WAVE did receive a $765,000 grant to add 19 full shelters and 19 benches, which doesn’t feel like a tremendous bang for our buck — and it will still leave plenty of stops with no amenities at all.

DSA members admitted they didn’t research the code requirements, because they just wanted to help solve what they saw as a clear problem no one else was addressing. But even if you find the DSA’s politics to be objectionable or silly — as many Republicans and even some Democrats do — I think you can understand the frustration here. We’re a thriving, affluent, economically successful community, but we can’t fund public transportation enough to build benches? Ok, then, why shouldn’t the community be able to provide bus stops, at no cost to the taxpayer, if the government won’t? Maybe just paint “sit at your own risk” on them.

There’s a certain Venn diagram overlap between a DIY ethos and a Libertarian anti-regulatory perspective (hell, even Reason magazine tipped its hat to NYC Mayor Zohran Mamdani’s recent red-tape cutting).

But most small-government goodwill from the right probably evaporates when they see calls for collective action, mass public housing, and other progressive slogans. And that’s the second problem: government speech.

Basically, if these benches become a public amenity, part of the public transportation system, can they have political slogans on them?

From a legal point of view, there are echoes of the City of Wilmington’s numerous debates in 2020 around the “Black Lives (Do) Matter” installation and the suggestion of an accompanying “free expression” area, which ironically caused more headaches than it soothed. I’m not sure WAVE or the city have the appetite to referee which bench slogans are allowed and which aren’t. Kurt Cobain, yes? Karl Marx, no?

But more generally, as both Democrats and Republicans have noted, transposing our hyper-partisan rhetoric onto bus stop bench slogans seems destined to aggravate everyone. Do Democrats want to see ‘Stop the Steal’ and ‘Build the Wall’ and ‘Trump 2028’ on benches? Probably not.

According to the DSA, they're currently in discussions with WAVE and city council to work out a solution.

As Port City Daily reported, Wilmington Councilwoman Salette Andrews, who also sits on the WAVE board, suggested a bench and shelter donation program, which would “establish clear, content-neutral standards regarding design, ADA compliance, engineering review, placement, maintenance, and donor recognition.”

“Content neutral” kind of kills the DSA vibe, but if helping the community is really the goal, more so than sloganeering, then it might be a good way forward.

Luke the Lorax?

Stump of a laurel oak cut down in Wilmington.
Benjamin Schachtman
/
WHQR
Stump of a laurel oak cut down in Wilmington.

For the last week and a half, former Wilmington councilman Luke Waddell has been documenting efforts to prevent three mature laurel oak trees from being cut down in his neighborhood along the aptly (and now perhaps ironically) named Live Oak Parkway.

Waddell initially posted his alarmed reaction to a tree-cutting crew on July 14, and that day added an update that he’d contacted Council Member David Joyner, Council Member Salette Andrews, and Mayor Bill Saffo. They intervened, the tree work was paused, and a community meeting was scheduled for the following week. Waddell, a Republican, thanked his former Democratic colleagues. It was a lovely and seemingly apolitical moment, our collective bipartisan aboreal concerns rising above the partisan fray.

The mood didn’t last, nor did the trees.

On Thursday afternoon, a couple of days after the community meeting, Waddell posted a dramatic update: “Today the City of Wilmington, NC Government cut down three mature oaks on South Live Oak Parkway. Trees that took decades to grow, gone because of a work order.”

Waddell blamed the “City of Wilmington leaders who signed the death warrant and then killed them.” He added that while he and his neighbors had met with the city arborist and asked for an independent second opinion, the city had said no.

Waddell voiced his frustration with the Alliance for Cape Fear Trees (ACFT), criticizing their inaction and questioning their funding model (ACFT has a special agreement to receive some of its funding from fees and fines paid by developers as part of the city’s tree removal mitigation program).

“And where was the Alliance for Cape Fear Trees through all of this? Silent. The City has an active agreement to fund this organization through city tree mitigation dollars, an appropriation you won't find named anywhere in the City's public nonprofit funding disclosures,” Waddell wrote. “Three mature oaks came down on their watch, funded in part by the same city cutting them down, and we didn't hear a word from them. If you won't speak up when the City itself is cutting down trees, what exactly are our tax dollars funding?”

Waddell closed by criticizing the city’s bureaucracy and invoked the ultimate North Carolina boogeyman: becoming Charlotte (also called ‘Mecklinification’ by some).

“Don't Charlotte our Wilmington,” Waddell wrote, a slogan that began popping up as a meme later that day, sometimes as “Don’t CLT our ILM.”

Waddell’s post eclipsed the other local news of the day (including our piece on the Front Street Bridge contract) with hundreds of comments and shares. Some certainly picked up on the conservative-minded criticisms Waddell threaded through his post (including skepticism of nonprofit funding, and the spectre of Charlotte). But I saw plenty of apolitical or left-leaning folks share Waddell’s post and his frustration.

It’s a very Wilmington response. People here genuinely love trees — see also the outrage year when the developer of the Galleria cut down several live oaks.

Several city council members waded into the comment section — a brave if risky proposition — including J.C. Lyle, who wrote, “The laurel oaks that had to be removed were at the end of their life span and could have fallen on a home or a person. We're in hurricane season, remember. The City held a community meeting with the City Arborist last week to explain it to the residents. No one wants to remove trees unnecessarily; it sucks to lose them.”

Lyle also rejected suggestions that there were any ulterior motives.

“We have no motivation to spend the money and political capital to cut them down without a legitimate reason. There's no scandal here,” she wrote.

And ACFT also took to social media to politely push back on Waddell’s criticisms, saying they understood the passionate response but had, in fact, been involved.

“We understand why. Losing mature canopy is emotional—and it should be. We felt that loss, too,” ACFT wrote. “But loving trees also means understanding them.”

ACFT noted that they had their own independent arborist review the trees.

“His conclusion was unequivocal: It was no longer possible to mitigate these hazards through pruning. Large limbs—or the trees themselves—could have failed during a moderate storm or even without warning. In his words, they had reached the end of their life cycle and had become hazardous from an arboricultural standpoint,” ACFT wrote.

ACFT noted even though the trees looked healthy and “majestic,” there were subtler outward signs of internal decay.

“Up close, the story was different. Large pockets of decay had formed near the trunks while thousands of pounds of branches extended over the roadway and sidewalk. Shelf fungi—clear indicators of advanced internal decay—were visible throughout the trunks and major limbs. The trees had already entered retrenchment, a natural process in which aging trees begin dying back from their outer canopy toward the center in an effort to survive,” they wrote.

I spoke to Waddell, who was understandably upset. He stands by the statements he’s also made online, saying that he watched the trees come down limb by limb, without seeing any rot. I can verify, having looked at the stumps of the three trees myself, that the base of the tree didn’t appear heavily rotted.

But other evidence does show significant damage.

Now, I'm not an expert ('dammit Jim, I'm an editor not an aborist'), but the city's staff report apparently cites similar concerns to those from ACFT’s independent review (I’m waiting to see a full copy of the city report, and will update this when I do). And photos, shared by Lyle and the city's social media page, do show considerable decay, at least in parts of the tree.

Images of the trees from the Wilmington staff report, provided by Councilwoman J.C. Lyle, who noted the damage to the tree's interior.
City of Wilmington
Images of the trees from the Wilmington staff report, provided by Councilwoman J.C. Lyle, who noted the damage to the tree's interior.

Could selective trimming have saved the laurel oaks? I don't know. But I do know if the city overturned their arborist's recommendation, and a tree (or a sizeable part of it) came down and damaged a car or, worse, struck someone, there would certainly be hell to pay.

As I told Waddell, my trusty Hanlon’s Razor suggests the issue here wasn't malice. It does sound like communication could have been better. While the city did host a community meeting, it was only after Waddell raised Cain over the issue.

If there's a part of this story that resonates more broadly with people, it's the sense that their government is disconnected from them, and only brings them into the loop on decisions once they're already a fait accompli. Things can go exactly by the book of city code and still deeply frustrate residents.

I’ll note that Waddell obviously benefited from having councilmembers and the mayor on speed dial. Not everyone can simply call Bill Saffo and say, ‘hey, what the hell is going on with the trees on my block?’ And Waddell, who will almost certainly return to politics, still has some residual bully pulpit power. Wilmingtonians get rightly upset anytime a heritage tree is cut down, anywhere, but here Waddell was clearly able to amplify the message.

As pointed out in response to my Facebook post about this on Saturday by Emily Donovan, an environmental activist who has championed PFAS regulatory reform, there’s a broader picture here, too.

The affluent neighborhood along Live Oak Parkway is the very picture of lush suburban tree canopy. And while neighbors are justifiably sad and angry, the city says it will plant live oaks in the fall to replace the downed laurel oaks. That hasn't historically always been the story on some blocks in lower-income neighborhoods, especially where Hurricane Florence took a significant chunk out of the tree cover. As veteran StarNews and USA TODAY journalist Gareth McGrath reported a few years ago, the city has been trying to pivot towards providing tree cover in lower-income neighborhoods, which deal with higher ambient temperatures and increased flooding risks.

If you’d asked me ten years ago what the top issues I’d expect to see a local conservative hammer on social media, I don’t think Wilmington’s arborial policies would have made the top ten. Reducing taxes, supporting first responders, encouraging economic development, yes. “SAVING TREES,” as Waddell wrote in all caps, not so much. But now there is an image circulating of Waddell in the style of Dr. Seuss’ Lorax, exaggerated mustache and all, with the slogan “for the trees" (once you see it, you can’t unsee it).

Recently, Republicans have been doing a better job of reading the room when it comes to public frustration with development and the related issue of deforestation. Now, both parties are trying to focus on greenspace. That can be both genuine concern and also political savvy. It probably changes the political calculus a bit, especially for unaffiliated voters, though it obviously doesn’t mean Democrats will vote for conservatives if they don’t share their other policy preferences (a tree-hugging Reaganite is still a Reaganite).

Still, Waddell’s frustrations clearly struck a chord across party lines, though some of his harsher allegations aren't supported by the evidence I've seen so far.

So, what do we make of the whole debacle? Some will see it as political grandstanding, others as a valuable spotlight on a compelling issue. Reducing a topic that most Wilmingtonians care about to partisan sniping would be a shame. But, I will say, if there’s added attention to our region’s greenspace, across the city’s wealthier and poorer neighborhoods alike, that itself would be a good thing.

What’s Next for Film Grants?

North Carolina Film Office
North Carolina Film Office

I don’t have a cheeky sub-hed for this one, just a genuine question: now that North Carolina’s film grants program has spent down its once-sizeable reserve fund, what happens?

As I wrote earlier this week, for years the state’s film grant program spent less than its annual $31 million budget, rolling over unused money into a reserve fund. That meant that, in more recent years, the program could disperse far more than $31 million a year — during the post-Covid boom of fiscal year 2022-2023, more than $90 million in grants were given out.

Because the grants are paid out after post-production, which can take a year or longer, there’s a long trailing edge to the dispersals. That means the existing grant agreements have spoken for money for the next two years. This year’s budget included higher caps for grants, meaning what funding remains could be eaten up more quickly by fewer projects.

Long story short, if a project comes to North Carolina today, they might not have available funding, depending on the turnaround time of the show or film. Initially, officials would only talk to me on background, but after we published, the Department of Commerce, which oversees the grants, put out an official statement saying there would be “little to no program activity for the coming years."

As the Greater Wilmington Business Journal reported, Republican Senator Michael Lee has strongly disputed the Commerce Department’s characterization of the situation.

"A program whose funding is booked solid is not a program going dark. Those productions will be shooting in North Carolina, hiring our crews and spending money in our communities. Anyone who leaves my constituents with the impression that film in this state shuts down until 2029 is purposely ignoring the facts,” Lee told the Business Journal. "Repeating the myth that North Carolina is closed until 2029 is doing Georgia's marketing for free."

The proof of the pudding is in the eating – or in the case, the filming. As Lee noted, even without the reserve fund, the grant is actively supporting film projects. And given that the grants are paid at the end of the production process, a major project might still sign on next year, knowing grant money will be available in the 2028-2029 or 2029-2030 fiscal years.

However, film is a mercurial business with limited loyalty. If production companies start to drift away from North Carolina towards the nearest or best tax incentive or grant program, then concerns shared by state officials on background will be vindicated — although I imagine it will be a bitter “I told you so.”

One possible test case, the upcoming Days of Thunder reboot. The film promises to be big dumb fun, a massive production, with Jerry Bruckheimer and Tom Cruise officially attached. That means thousands of employees and likely a nine-figure production budget.

Principal photography for the 1990 original took place at Charlotte Motor Speedway, with additional filming around the state. Earlier this year, I heard rumors that Paramount planned to return to Charlotte. Now, I’m hearing the production may move to Atlanta. We should hear an official announcement soon. If the film is headed to Georgia, that could serve as an inflection point for legislators, who will likely get questions about it right as they’re headed into the election season.

Speaking on background, officials told me they always knew the reserve fund would get spent down eventually. What’s less clear is what they thought would happen once the grant program hit that point. It’s possible they hoped Lee would help push through additional funding when legislators briefly return to work next week. Perhaps they thought that, once news coverage spread — which is, I’ll note, happening kind of slowly — public pressure might move that along.

The film grant program, despite its troubled and uneven history, has had some real successes and earned bipartisan support. If there’s one criticism I hear, especially when I’m on the road, it's that the Cape Fear region has seen more of that success than a lot of other areas. If reformers want to try to spread that around the state, I think that’s fair. But if the program can’t compete with other states, that’ll be a moot point.

Ben Schachtman is a journalist and editor with a focus on local government accountability. He began reporting for Port City Daily in the Wilmington area in 2016 and took over as managing editor there in 2018. He’s a graduate of Rutgers College and later received his MA from NYU and his PhD from SUNY-Stony Brook, both in English Literature. He loves spending time with his wife and playing rock'n'roll very loudly. You can reach him at BSchachtman@whqr.org and find him on Twitter @Ben_Schachtman.