Current News
Florida panther mortality update
Florida Fish & Wildlife Conservation Commission sent this bulletin at 01/13/2020 10:22 AM EST The FWC has updated the “Panther Pulse” page with mortality information through January 13, 2020 at 10:15 a.m. This information can be viewed at: https://myfwc.com/wildlifehabitats/wildlife/panther/pulse/ The remains of UCFP374, an adult female Florida panther, were collected on January 9, 2020 in Collier County, Florida (460486, 2920839). The suspected cause of death was a vehicle collision. The remains of UCFP375, a Florida panther of unknown age and sex, were collected on January 1, 2020 on CR 833 in Hendry County, Florida (487362, 2937555). The suspected cause of death was a vehicle collision. The remains of UCFP376, an adult male Florida panther, were collected on January 4, in Polk County, Florida (446286, 3061169). The suspected cause of death was a train collision. Biologists gain valuable information by examining panther remains. Report injured or dead panthers to the FWC Wildlife Alert Hotline at 888-404-FWCC (3922). |
The Juliana 21 Continue to Fight for Justice in the Biggest Climate Lawsuit in America
Decision of Divided Ninth Circuit Court of Appeals Finds Primarily for Juliana Plaintiffs, but Holds Federal Judiciary Can Do Nothing to Stop the U.S. Government in Causing Climate Change and Harming Children Eugene, Oregon - Today, a divided panel of the Ninth Circuit Court of Appeals “reluctantly” concluded that the youth plaintiffs’ case in Juliana v. United States must be made to the Congress, the President, or to the electorate at large. The decision finds federal courts cannot provide the youth with a remedy for their climate change injuries. In her dissent, District Judge Josephine L. Staton wrote that the youth plaintiffs brought suit to enforce the most basic structural principal embedded in our system of liberty: the Constitution does not condone the Nation’s willful destruction. Judge Staton would hold that the youth plaintiffs have standing to challenge the government’s conduct, have articulated claims under the Constitution, and have presented sufficient evidence to press those claims at trial. Counsel for the youth plaintiffs vowed to ask the full Ninth Circuit to review the determination that federal courts can do nothing to address an admitted constitutional violation. Julia Olson, executive director and chief legal counsel of Our Children’s Trust and co-counsel for the youth plaintiffs, commented: “The Juliana case is far from over. The Youth Plaintiffs will be asking the full court of the Ninth Circuit to review this decision and its catastrophic implications for our constitutional democracy. January 17, 2020 Contact: Julia Olson, 415-786-4825, julia@ourchildrenstrust.org | ||||
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Money for broadband access near Florida toll roads advances in Senate
By John Kennedy USA Today Network With Senate President Bill Galvano’s push for building three new toll roads drawing stiff opposition from communities in their path, a bill cleared a panel Tuesday promising $5 million to improve broadband access for residents near the highways. Senate advances Ben Albritton’s bill to revitalize broadband expansion By Renzo Downey Florida Politics Legislation to revitalize broadband expansion unanimously passed its first Senate committee Tuesday, a week after making the same milestone in the House. Buchanan Wants Panthers Safe As Heartland Parkway Starts By Jacob Ogles SRQ Magazine Environmentalists long sounded alarms about whether the planned Heartland Parkway puts the Florida Panther population at risk. Now, U.S. Rep. Vern Buchanan, R-Sarasota, has echoed their concerns in a letter to Gov. Ron DeSantis. Tracking the Florida panther’s tenuous comeback By Rachel Love Nuwer Salon Excerpt: Meanwhile, roads, which regularly claim the lives of panthers that venture out of their southerly nook, prevent their natural expansion, while development — now the top threat to panthers — shows no signs of slowing. More than 900 people on average move to Florida each day, and Florida just approved three new toll roads that will cut directly through panther habitat. FDOT talks MCORES By Mark Berryman Chiefland Citizen The Florida Department of Transportation (FDOT) hosted an Open House at the Levy Campus of the College of Central Florida on Tuesday night. The event featured a short film on the M-CORES (Multi-Use Corridors of Economic Significance) and several stations that provided information about all three projects. Norris updates council on Suncoast Connector By Jamie Wachter Suwannee Democrat In 10 years, travelers may have another major path south through Florida. FDOT Community Open House for M-CORES projects Staff Report Citrus County Chronicle The Florida Department of Transportation (FDOT) announces a Community Open House to which all persons are invited. Opinion columns, editorials and letters to the editor Put the brakes on Florida toll roads By Preston Robertson Fort Myers News-Press At the end of the 2019 legislative session, legislators passed a law that will create three new massive toll roads in what remains of rural parts of the Florida peninsula. These roads were not part of the Florida Department of Transportation (FDOT) plans but were mainly supported by road builders and potential developers. |
$13.5 Million to Address Harmful Algae Blooms (HABs)
NJDEP Provides $13.5 Million to Address Harmful Algal Blooms By Juliet Kaszas-Hoch | Jan 08, 2020 TRENTON, NJ — The NJ Department of Environmental Protection is making $13.5 million in funding available for local projects to improve water quality and help prevent, mitigate and manage harmful algal blooms in lakes and ponds, building upon the state’s HAB response strategy announced by Gov. Phil Murphy in November. According to the DEP, “Harmful algal blooms, also known as HABs, are not true algal blooms. Rather, they are caused by naturally occurring cyanobacteria that can reproduce to unhealthful levels under certain conditions, including sunlight, nutrients from sources such as fertilizers and improperly operating septic systems, warm weather and stagnant water. They frequently form dense mats, resembling pea soup or spilled paint.” Exposure to blooms can cause adverse health effects, including rashes, allergy-like reactions, flu-like symptoms, gastroenteritis, respiratory irritation and eye irritation. Exposure to a bloom that is actively producing cyanotoxins may even result in liver toxicity and neurological consequences. People, pets and wildlife are all susceptible if they come into contact with or ingest water experiencing a bloom. “Harmful algal blooms are creating real hardships for the people of New Jersey, affecting livelihoods, local economies and tourism,” DEP Commissioner Catherine R. McCabe said. “The Murphy administration is committed to moving forward quickly to make financial resources available for local projects that will reduce the occurrence of harmful algal blooms, improving our quality of life and better protecting public health and the environment.” The DEP has formally issued requests for proposals for $3.5 million in grants to fund planning and projects to help local management, response and mitigation of HABs through proven and innovative projects. This program is open to a wide variety of potential applicants, including local government agencies, academic institutions and nonprofits. In addition, the department has issued a draft Intended Use Plan for public comment that earmarks $10 million in Clean Water State Revolving Fund money as principal-forgiveness funding for projects that address HABs by improving water quality. DEP is encouraging interested potential applicants – primarily local and county government agencies – to apply for funding through this program as soon as possible. Murphy announced the funding as part of a comprehensive effort to address the increasing number of harmful algal blooms that occurred across the state last year. More than 70 suspected blooms were reported, with 39 confirmed. These blooms resulted in health and water-contact advisories and closures of bathing beaches and, in some cases, had direct impacts on tourism-related businesses. This effort also includes an enhanced program of science-based prevention, mitigation, study and response. “Specifically, the DEP has issued a request for proposals for harmful algal bloom management matching grants totaling $2.5 million to fund the implementation of innovative or proven projects to manage HABs through prevention and mitigation,” a department press release reads. “Through this 2:1 matching grant, the DEP will enhance its local partners’ investments in HAB prevention and mitigation projects by providing $2 in funding for every $1 invested by a grant applicant. “The DEP has also set aside $1 million from a $3.5 million nonpoint source pollution grant program for watershed or lakeshed planning to address harmful algal blooms by reducing nutrients in stormwater. No local match would be required for an applicant to be eligible for these planning funds.” To view the requests for proposals, including requirements for proposal submissions, and for more information about the state’s Water Quality Restoration Grants Program, visit nj.gov/dep/wms/bears/npsrestgrants.html. In addition, the $10 million DEP has proposed to make available as principal-forgiveness funding through the Clean Water State Revolving Fund provides potential applicants with a cost-effective way to implement projects, such as wastewater and stormwater improvements, that will reduce pollutants that help fuel harmful algal blooms. “The principal-forgiveness funding (capped at $2 million per project) could cover as much as half the cost of these projects,” said the department. “The DEP and the New Jersey Water Bank will provide the balance through a blend of zero-interest and market-rate funding that results in low-interest loans for applicants.” For information, visit nj.gov/dep/dwq/cwpl.htm. “We strongly encourage interested parties to reach out to us as soon as possible to take advantage of this unique funding opportunity,” said Michele Putnam, assistant commissioner for water resources management. “At this stage, all applicants need is an idea. We will assign a project manager for each project to help guide applicants through design, permitting and program requirements.” For more information on harmful algal blooms, visit state.nj.us/dep/hab. —J.K.-H. |
Florida’s Waters Are Rising, But So Are Its People
Residents and city leaders rally around climate resilience strategies, in the absence of federal leadership.
By Alison Cagle | January 17, 2020
In 2017, the most powerful Atlantic storm in history hit Florida. Longtime Florida resident Crystal Johnson remembers how cars clogged every highway leading out of the state as people fled to overcrowded hotels in Alabama or Georgia. Outside Johnson’s apartment, Hurricane Irma unleashed 110-mile-per-hour winds that tossed garbage cans and smashed windows. By the time the hurricane made landfall, over 77,000 people around Florida had crammed themselves into emergency shelters.
Down in the majority African-American neighborhood of Dunbar in Fort Myers where Johnson lives, Hurricane Irma flooded streets and knocked out power for 12 days. After the storm, Johnson and her fellow Dunbar residents made their way to the neighborhood community center, which they expected to function as a basecamp for emergency services.
Instead, they found locked doors.
“This should have been a respite site after the storm, where we could come and recharge, share food, connect with people,” says Johnson. “It was really disheartening.”
Johnson is well known as a staunch advocate for her community. The same year Irma flooded Dunbar’s streets, Johnson ran for city council, aiming to represent the voices of her community amid Fort Myers’ large population of wealthy vacationers. Prominent real estate developers grumble at the mention of her name, while local patrons of a family-owned restaurant along Dunbar’s main road jump to greet her with updates.
After Irma cut Dunbar’s power, Johnson asked the city government to aid her community, which lacks hospitals or even a major grocery store. With no city response forthcoming, Johnson stepped in to get Dunbar back on its feet. She set up a makeshift aid site in front of the community center’s locked doors, and organized the distribution of food cooked by local church members and her city councilwoman. Using social media as her bullhorn, Johnson shared emergency updates from her state representative, including locations where people could get food, water, and other supplies. As word spread, residents started showing up to lend a hand.
“We took care of each other,” Johnson says. “Even though it was a devastating time, it was also something that brought the community together.”
Dealing with the whiplash effects from climate change — sea level rise, record-breaking heat waves, monster hurricanes, and sunny day flooding, when seasonal tides send Florida’s groundwater rushing into city streets — is Florida’s new normal. Yet for all these planetary distress signals, state leaders vacillate between pushing climate mitigation legislation and climate denial. In 2015, for example, former Governor Rick Scott banned the words “climate change” from policy discussions.
Like many Floridians on the frontlines of climate change impacts, Johnson isn’t waiting for her government to see the writing on the sea wall. City leaders and grassroots advocates are pushing for climate resiliency plans, rallying voters, and collaborating on infrastructure projects that will protect cities from the rising sea.
Hurricane Irma was a turning point for many Floridians who hadn’t previously thought about climate change affecting their lives.
“I would hear about climate change on the news and think the problem was so big,” says Miami resident Bereatha Howard. “There was nothing I could do within my power. What am I going to do — get a rope and tie it around the sun? It just seemed the solution would be so out-of-this-world, it was hard to understand that our actions can make a difference.”
That view changed after Howard decided to take the CLEO Institute’s Empowering Resilient Women class, where speakers described the trickle-down effects of an ecosystem in chaos. Howard learned that she could strengthen her and her family’s resilience to climate change by preparing for hurricanes, increasing her financial literacy, pushing for access to green jobs, and demanding climate action from her local leaders through civic engagement.
“We encourage average citizens to use their voice,” says Yoca Arditi-Rocha, the executive director of CLEO. “We tell them they have three superpowers: the power of their voice, the power of their purse, and the power of their vote. We give them the tools, knowledge, and empowerment they need to become change agents in their community.”
Howard was most inspired by how the speakers shifted the conversation from an amorphous scientific concept to an issue that directly affected vulnerable communities.
“You can’t get people engaged just by saying ‘climate change,’” Howard explains. “How does that relate to my life? You get people’s attention by saying their children won't get enough to eat after a hurricane closes grocery stores, or explaining why only some neighborhoods won’t have power.
According to the UN, women suffer disproportionately from climate change’s effects due to gender inequity both in the home and professionally. That’s why the CLEO institute centers women as leaders within their families.
“It really does make a difference when a woman who is head of her household is informed,” Howard says. “When I was living with my elderly father during Hurricane Irma, I was confident because I had prepared everything we would need.”
The need for climate resilience doesn’t end at people’s doorsteps — it extends to their jobs, where climate change can hinder a person’s ability to work. In a city known as the fern capital of the world, farmworkers are pushing for actions that will help them survive a warming planet.
On a 95-degree day in Pierson, a town of less than 2,000 residents in Central Florida, workers sweat as they harvest soft, leathery plants destined to grace the air-conditioned environment of corporate offices.
During these hot days, farmworkers can suffer from “heat stress,” an innocuous-sounding term for an agonizing physiological attack that can lead to heat stroke and even kidney failure if not treated properly. At the fernery in Pierson, where farmworkers are paid by how much they can produce in a day, any worker can describe the agony of heat stress, and the fear that pausing will jeopardize their daily quota.
“I feel like I’m drowning,” says Griselda Lomeli, a worker at the nursery who has experienced heat stress. “I’m suffocating. My heart beats very quickly, and I can hear it accelerating.”
The Centers for Disease Control recommend that employers limit farmworkers hours during very hot days, so that their workers’ bodies can safely acclimate to the punishing environment. But a bunch of ferns yields only 30 cents per barrel, and missing a day’s quota reduces an already low paycheck.
Faced with this untenable situation, farmworkers are uniting to agitate for better conditions. Antonia Aguirre, who began working at the ferneries when she was 14, now organizes with the Farmworker Association of Florida, a grassroots group that aims to build worker power.
A key demand of the group’s 10,000 members is the creation of state-level policies that protect farmworkers from extreme temperatures. This year, in coordination with the association, two Democratic state legislators introduced bills that would require company training on recognizing and treating heat stress. The bill also requires employers to provide outdoor laborers with water, breaks, and protection from the sun.
“The industry isn’t prepared to handle climate change,” says Aguirre. “Employers need to give workers at least a paid hour when they have to rest. The temperatures have gotten too hot.”
While Floridians push for stronger climate change policies in their communities, city leaders are joining forces to strengthen resilience to the climate crisis across the region.
In 2010, the counties of Broward, Miami-Dade, Monroe, and Palm Beach established the Southeast Florida Regional Climate Change Compact, which created an action plan to prepare cities for flooding, sea level rise, and economic and social disruption from climate change.
“The compact has provided an acknowledgement from the elected level of county and city government, that this is an issue we couldn’t avoid — we can’t wait for the right governor [to take action],” says Jim Murley, the chief resilience officer for Miami-Dade County.
To enact solutions that match the scope of the climate crisis, Florida communities will ultimately need buy-in from state leaders. Last year, they began to come around. In August, Governor Ron DeSantis appointed Florida’s first chief resilience officer, Dr. Julia Nesheiwat, whose job is to prepare Florida for the environmental, physical, and economic impacts of sea level rise. Additionally, legislators have introduced bills aimed at encouraging energy conservation and renewable energy (efforts that Earthjustice policy staff are supporting). Meanwhile, the state’s agricultural commissioner is leading a campaign to fund climate impact research on Florida’s farms.
Residents and city leaders rally around climate resilience strategies, in the absence of federal leadership.
By Alison Cagle | January 17, 2020
In 2017, the most powerful Atlantic storm in history hit Florida. Longtime Florida resident Crystal Johnson remembers how cars clogged every highway leading out of the state as people fled to overcrowded hotels in Alabama or Georgia. Outside Johnson’s apartment, Hurricane Irma unleashed 110-mile-per-hour winds that tossed garbage cans and smashed windows. By the time the hurricane made landfall, over 77,000 people around Florida had crammed themselves into emergency shelters.
Down in the majority African-American neighborhood of Dunbar in Fort Myers where Johnson lives, Hurricane Irma flooded streets and knocked out power for 12 days. After the storm, Johnson and her fellow Dunbar residents made their way to the neighborhood community center, which they expected to function as a basecamp for emergency services.
Instead, they found locked doors.
“This should have been a respite site after the storm, where we could come and recharge, share food, connect with people,” says Johnson. “It was really disheartening.”
Johnson is well known as a staunch advocate for her community. The same year Irma flooded Dunbar’s streets, Johnson ran for city council, aiming to represent the voices of her community amid Fort Myers’ large population of wealthy vacationers. Prominent real estate developers grumble at the mention of her name, while local patrons of a family-owned restaurant along Dunbar’s main road jump to greet her with updates.
After Irma cut Dunbar’s power, Johnson asked the city government to aid her community, which lacks hospitals or even a major grocery store. With no city response forthcoming, Johnson stepped in to get Dunbar back on its feet. She set up a makeshift aid site in front of the community center’s locked doors, and organized the distribution of food cooked by local church members and her city councilwoman. Using social media as her bullhorn, Johnson shared emergency updates from her state representative, including locations where people could get food, water, and other supplies. As word spread, residents started showing up to lend a hand.
“We took care of each other,” Johnson says. “Even though it was a devastating time, it was also something that brought the community together.”
Dealing with the whiplash effects from climate change — sea level rise, record-breaking heat waves, monster hurricanes, and sunny day flooding, when seasonal tides send Florida’s groundwater rushing into city streets — is Florida’s new normal. Yet for all these planetary distress signals, state leaders vacillate between pushing climate mitigation legislation and climate denial. In 2015, for example, former Governor Rick Scott banned the words “climate change” from policy discussions.
Like many Floridians on the frontlines of climate change impacts, Johnson isn’t waiting for her government to see the writing on the sea wall. City leaders and grassroots advocates are pushing for climate resiliency plans, rallying voters, and collaborating on infrastructure projects that will protect cities from the rising sea.
Hurricane Irma was a turning point for many Floridians who hadn’t previously thought about climate change affecting their lives.
“I would hear about climate change on the news and think the problem was so big,” says Miami resident Bereatha Howard. “There was nothing I could do within my power. What am I going to do — get a rope and tie it around the sun? It just seemed the solution would be so out-of-this-world, it was hard to understand that our actions can make a difference.”
That view changed after Howard decided to take the CLEO Institute’s Empowering Resilient Women class, where speakers described the trickle-down effects of an ecosystem in chaos. Howard learned that she could strengthen her and her family’s resilience to climate change by preparing for hurricanes, increasing her financial literacy, pushing for access to green jobs, and demanding climate action from her local leaders through civic engagement.
“We encourage average citizens to use their voice,” says Yoca Arditi-Rocha, the executive director of CLEO. “We tell them they have three superpowers: the power of their voice, the power of their purse, and the power of their vote. We give them the tools, knowledge, and empowerment they need to become change agents in their community.”
Howard was most inspired by how the speakers shifted the conversation from an amorphous scientific concept to an issue that directly affected vulnerable communities.
“You can’t get people engaged just by saying ‘climate change,’” Howard explains. “How does that relate to my life? You get people’s attention by saying their children won't get enough to eat after a hurricane closes grocery stores, or explaining why only some neighborhoods won’t have power.
According to the UN, women suffer disproportionately from climate change’s effects due to gender inequity both in the home and professionally. That’s why the CLEO institute centers women as leaders within their families.
“It really does make a difference when a woman who is head of her household is informed,” Howard says. “When I was living with my elderly father during Hurricane Irma, I was confident because I had prepared everything we would need.”
The need for climate resilience doesn’t end at people’s doorsteps — it extends to their jobs, where climate change can hinder a person’s ability to work. In a city known as the fern capital of the world, farmworkers are pushing for actions that will help them survive a warming planet.
On a 95-degree day in Pierson, a town of less than 2,000 residents in Central Florida, workers sweat as they harvest soft, leathery plants destined to grace the air-conditioned environment of corporate offices.
During these hot days, farmworkers can suffer from “heat stress,” an innocuous-sounding term for an agonizing physiological attack that can lead to heat stroke and even kidney failure if not treated properly. At the fernery in Pierson, where farmworkers are paid by how much they can produce in a day, any worker can describe the agony of heat stress, and the fear that pausing will jeopardize their daily quota.
“I feel like I’m drowning,” says Griselda Lomeli, a worker at the nursery who has experienced heat stress. “I’m suffocating. My heart beats very quickly, and I can hear it accelerating.”
The Centers for Disease Control recommend that employers limit farmworkers hours during very hot days, so that their workers’ bodies can safely acclimate to the punishing environment. But a bunch of ferns yields only 30 cents per barrel, and missing a day’s quota reduces an already low paycheck.
Faced with this untenable situation, farmworkers are uniting to agitate for better conditions. Antonia Aguirre, who began working at the ferneries when she was 14, now organizes with the Farmworker Association of Florida, a grassroots group that aims to build worker power.
A key demand of the group’s 10,000 members is the creation of state-level policies that protect farmworkers from extreme temperatures. This year, in coordination with the association, two Democratic state legislators introduced bills that would require company training on recognizing and treating heat stress. The bill also requires employers to provide outdoor laborers with water, breaks, and protection from the sun.
“The industry isn’t prepared to handle climate change,” says Aguirre. “Employers need to give workers at least a paid hour when they have to rest. The temperatures have gotten too hot.”
While Floridians push for stronger climate change policies in their communities, city leaders are joining forces to strengthen resilience to the climate crisis across the region.
In 2010, the counties of Broward, Miami-Dade, Monroe, and Palm Beach established the Southeast Florida Regional Climate Change Compact, which created an action plan to prepare cities for flooding, sea level rise, and economic and social disruption from climate change.
“The compact has provided an acknowledgement from the elected level of county and city government, that this is an issue we couldn’t avoid — we can’t wait for the right governor [to take action],” says Jim Murley, the chief resilience officer for Miami-Dade County.
To enact solutions that match the scope of the climate crisis, Florida communities will ultimately need buy-in from state leaders. Last year, they began to come around. In August, Governor Ron DeSantis appointed Florida’s first chief resilience officer, Dr. Julia Nesheiwat, whose job is to prepare Florida for the environmental, physical, and economic impacts of sea level rise. Additionally, legislators have introduced bills aimed at encouraging energy conservation and renewable energy (efforts that Earthjustice policy staff are supporting). Meanwhile, the state’s agricultural commissioner is leading a campaign to fund climate impact research on Florida’s farms.
