Eminent Domain: 13, Harrisburg Descends, Engineers Ascend

13 Harrisburg Descends; Engineers Ascend
Saturday Feb. 13, 1988

It’s a good thing there aren’t surveillance cameras in the Engineers’ Office of PennDOT District 13, Alex thought as he surveyed the chaos.

Maps were thumbtacked on every spare wall. They had each thrown in twenty bucks and purchased a cheap couch from Fisher’s Big Wheel. The store had actually delivered it to the door, and they had all three dragged it up into the spare office with Phyllis holding the doors and giving directions. Then they had placed a standing order for two large pizzas to be delivered on Monday, Wednesday, and Friday. And since they had been on the phone, they ordered pizzas for today too.

“I will bring crockpot soup and homemade bread every Thursday,” Phyllis promised. “I can’t bear to see you eat junk all the time. It won’t be good for your stress levels. Or mine,” she added. “And also, I don’t mind cleaning up after you, but you can’t be Total Slobs.” She bent to pick up the pizza boxes.

“Ah, Ma, come on…” Henry teased. He got up and hugged her. “We won’t be total slobs, we promise.”

“Right,” said Keith. “Especially if we want to impress Dana.”

“We need a coffee table,” said Alex.

“I can bring in my coffee table,” said Keith. “We need a Barcalounger, too.”

“We are working in here, not watching movies,” Alex said.

“I thought this was going to be our lounge and napping office,” Keith said.

“Speaking of work, let’s go look at some of these maps and brainstorm.”

The three of them were actually working, discussing possibilities, looking at topography, and throwing out ideas, when the phone rang. Phyllis appeared and looked at Alex. “It’s Ross.”

Alex disappeared into his office, and though they all listened, no one could tell what Ross was saying by listening to Alex’s end of the conversation. Until he said, “But Ross… that’s impossible.”

Phyllis wondered aloud if every one of Ross’ phone calls would involve this much stress.

“Count on it,” Keith said. “It’s the man’s middle name.”

“I think it’s the nature of this project,” Henry said. “We knew it when we signed on. I think we also need a kitchen cabinet filled with Excedrin, Antacids, and maybe a bottle of vodka.”

Alex walked out of his office and all eyes turned to him. “There’s good, there’s bad, and there’s messy,” he said. “Which first?”

“Good,” “Bad,” “Messy,” Phyllis, Keith, and Henry all spoke at once.

Alex shook his head. “Maybe we should retire to the lounge.”

They had just sat down when the door to the office opened and in walked a slender girl with short blonde hair. She was loaded down with a bulging brief case and a large green flowered duffle bag. “Hi guys,” she grinned. “I’m Dana and I’m early.”

They all stood up. Henry was the closest, so he took her duffle bag and stuck out his hand. “You’re just in time for our first staff meeting,” he said. “I’m Henry, this is Phyllis, the ugly guy over there is Keith, and the tall guy is Alex. He’s the boss, so be nice to him.”

Alex walked over to shake her hand. “I hope you have a sense of humor,” he said. “And if they start to drive you crazy, Phyllis will take care of you. Or them.” He smiled. “Welcome. Henry was telling the truth; we were just about to have our first bit of good news/bad news. So would you like to join us, or do you need some time to gather yourself before you jump in?”

“Just need a place to put my coat and boots, and I’m ready. It didn’t really take that long to drive — I actually drove over Rte. 592 to get here.”

Phyllis took her coat. “What did you think?” she asked.

“It’s an old fashioned country road that’s beautiful but not suited to the modern desires for speed, efficiency, or safety.”

“Yep. A one sentence summary,” Keith said. “Bill Clancey should hire you.”

Dana looked puzzled.

“He’s the newspaper editor, who covered the front page and the second page, and, in essence, got Harrisburg interested in this whole mess, in a single day,” Keith said. He handed her a copy of Wednesday’s Adamsford Chronicle.

“And has Ross Fowler calling us twice a day,” added Henry. “I hope our illustrious boss informed you of the dangers involved in accepting this job.”

“He did. Our mission, should we choose to accept it…” and she whistled the beginning tune to “Mission: Impossible.”

“Okay, someone get Dana a chair.”

“As long as it doesn’t self-destruct in five seconds,” Henry grinned.

Phyllis stood up. “Here, have mine. I just want to hear the good bits, and then I have to get back to work. My job is not the same as yours. Thank goodness.” She smiled at Dana.

“Ross has been having meetings with Con-Oil executives and he met with the governor yesterday,” Alex began. “Apparently attorneys are doing most of the talking, but Con-Oil wants to give the appearance of doing everything on the up and up. The secrecy of the project is off, but Harrisburg is taking the reins as to what gets said and when. So we don’t say anything until we’re given the okay to do so.

“The second thing is that Con-Oil is not interested in having the road go through the State Game Lands. So one of our ideas is out the window already, before we even got to develop it.”

“Well, that sucks,” Henry said. “That was going to be the best way to avoid taking people’s houses.”

“Yes,” Alex agreed. “I told Ross that if he wanted us to take fewer houses, we had to use the public lands instead, but he was firm — no State Game Lands.”

“Yeah, but we knew that whole wetlands issue made it iffy,” Keith added. “If you ask me, they don’t want to have to wait on variances from DER.”

“Wait,” Dana said. “You mean after we draw up the plans, there aren’t going to be meetings or any public hearings or anything? The Transportation Commission won’t allow them to get away with that, will they?”

“There has never been any public input on this road. The plan was drawn up before the PennDOT that we all know and love existed — when a bunch of local Highway Departments were loosely run by the state. No Twelve Year Plans, No Three Year Plans… so there were no meetings for it. No input, just an engineer drawing up the road on some Harrisburg engineers’ and senators’ request. Ross says that the legislature rammed it through quickly. This whole project is crazy, so there you are: seems to me like anything can happen, and we should try to be as prepared as possible.”

Alex paused. “I saved the best for last.”

Henry groaned.

“On Monday afternoon at 1:00, weather permitting, there will be a helicopter at the Adamsford Airport waiting to give us an aerial tour of the countryside down SR 592. We have it for four hours. The pilot will land at the airport outside Hattiesville if we want, so we can talk and decide what we might like to see from the air on the way back.”

“Are you serious? Cool.” Henry said. “Wait. Is Ross coming too?”

“Uh, that wasn’t made plain to me, but I wouldn’t be surprised if he does. I couldn’t really ask, ‘Ross, are you coming with us?’ But I also wouldn’t be surprised if the Honorable Tom Del’Olio is invited.”

Henry groaned again. “My first helicopter ride, and it’s ruined by some jerk I didn’t vote for. How big is this chopper anyway?”

Alex shrugged and shook his head. “Can it get much stranger than this?”

Phyllis stood up. “I’m afraid it will. And it’s not going to be pretty.”

“Tomorrow we’ll spend the day getting Dana up to speed, comparing topos, and the old plan. Have questions in your minds that you want to see on that chopper ride. The maps tell us the terrain and the contours, but they don’t show us where all the buildings are. I’d like to have a photographer. When Ross calls tomorrow, I’m going to request that he bring one. Unless any of you have skills?” He looked at Dana.

“I do have a good camera in my duffle, and I’ve taken shots from the air before, but I’m no expert.”

“Well, you win, unless these guys are holding out on me about their expertise?”

Keith and Henry both shook their heads.

“Great! You’ve got the honors,” he said to Dana.

This is a chapter from my novel Eminent Domain. They’re long and not for everyone, but I’d be glad for comments if you read it…

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