Equity First Means Planning First — Before Any Property Is Sold

What our leaders have said — and why it matters now

Mayor Ken Welch and many community leaders have been clear: equity is not just a word. It means acknowledging past harm, understanding how it happened, and making different choices going forward.

They have said the Gas Plant site matters because:

• It carries deep historical weight

• Decisions made here will last for generations

• Getting it wrong again would deepen distrust

• Getting it right requires doing things differently than before

They have also said—clearly and repeatedly—that equity means not continuing systems that physically separate and disadvantage Black communities.

Yet the proposals on the table today would do exactly that. They would leave the highway and the wall in place, continuing to cut off the Black community from downtown and locking in the same physical separation that followed the destruction of the Gas Plant neighborhood.

That raises a hard but necessary question:

If redevelopment moves forward this way, does anyone care that the separation continues?

Those statements—and that question—create a responsibility. Not just to build new buildings, but to look honestly at the infrastructure decisions that replaced a community and still shape daily life.

That responsibility starts with planning.

What happened — step by step

This did not happen all at once. It happened through a series of decisions that reinforced each other.

1. A connected Black community existed
   The Gas Plant neighborhood was a thriving Black community that ran east–west, largely south of where I-175 now runs. Homes, churches, businesses, and daily life were connected across that corridor, with natural access into downtown.

2. The community was torn down
   Through urban renewal, the Gas Plant neighborhood was cleared. Families were displaced. The physical neighborhood was erased.

3. A highway replaced the neighborhood
   Instead of rebuilding community fabric, a short urban highway spur was built along the edge of where the neighborhood once stood.

4. A wall reinforced the divide
   A wall was added along the highway, limiting crossings and creating a hard physical boundary.

5. Temporary decisions became permanent
   Over time, the highway and wall shaped how people move, where investment flows, and who feels connected to downtown.

Each step made the next easier.
Each step reduced future choices.
Each step deepened separation.

The Gas Plant and I-175 are part of the same story

The Gas Plant community was not replaced by nothing. It was replaced by infrastructure that made reconnection harder.

The highway and wall did not just follow the demolition — they locked the loss into the city’s physical structure.  The wall is not just concrete. It is a symbol of separation — of who was removed, who was cut off, and whose access was treated as negotiable.

That is why it is impossible to talk honestly about redevelopment without talking about I-175. They are part of the same system.

Literal, physical segregation — still felt today

I-175 is not symbolic. It is a real, physical barrier.

• It cuts across what was once an east–west Black community

• It restricts natural access into downtown

• It signals where the city connects — and where it stops

You feel it walking.
You feel it driving.
You feel it in where growth happens and where it doesn’t.

Over time, physical separation becomes emotional separation:

• “Downtown isn’t meant for us.”

• “That side of the road isn’t ours.”

• “These decisions were already made.”

That is segregation as lived experience.

A real safety issue, not just a planning debate

This spur also creates daily danger.

Cars come off the interstate at high speed, hit short ramps and tight curves, and are suddenly dropped into city streets. The result is:

• Frequent crashes

• Abrupt braking

• Confused drivers

• Unsafe conditions for pedestrians and cyclists

This is a known problem with short urban highway spurs. They encourage speed—then abruptly end.

That kind of road might make sense on a highway map.
It does not make sense in a neighborhood.

These highway spurs don’t do what they were supposed to do

Across the country, cities have learned that short, dead-end highway spurs like I-175 rarely deliver what they promised.

They were supposed to:

• Improve traffic

• Support downtown growth

• Help nearby neighborhoods

Instead, many:

• Carry less traffic than expected

• Duplicate surface streets

• Take up valuable land

• Act as barriers instead of connectors

They don’t solve congestion.
They don’t heal communities.
They mostly just persist—especially once more money is spent reinforcing them.

That’s why other cities at least studied these roads before locking them in forever.

Do we really need this spur for access?

Some people argue that I-175 is necessary for emergency access to Bayfront Health St. Petersburg, or for easier access to downtown museums and cultural destinations.

That concern deserves to be taken seriously. But it also deserves to be examined honestly.

• Bayfront Hospital is already served by multiple surface streets and alternative routes.

• Emergency vehicles operate throughout downtown and surrounding neighborhoods without relying on short highway spurs.

• Many cities with major hospitals and cultural districts function safely and efficiently without highways running into their downtown cores.

High-speed ramps that abruptly end do not improve emergency response.
They often complicate it.

Likewise, museums and cultural destinations thrive in places that are:

• Walkable

• Connected

• Easy to navigate at city speeds

They do not depend on interstate-style access.

The idea that this spur is indispensable has never been fully tested through a City-led planning process. It has simply been assumed.

Planning first is how the City separates real needs from inherited beliefs.

A City-led planning process would also force a clear-eyed look at facts that have never been fully examined together. Removing I-175 could return dozens of acres of land from state control back to the City—land that could be planned for reconnection rather than locked under a highway footprint. The spur carries far less traffic than a permanent urban barrier would suggest, while creating safety problems where high-speed ramps abruptly empty onto city streets, with accident rates well above typical levels nearby. Hospitals have raised concerns about access, but those deserve analysis alongside existing disruptions, including frequent flooding tied to Booker Creek that has already forced cancelled medical procedures. Even today’s “connections” fall short: pedestrian bridge ramps over the highway do not meet modern ADA standards and have never been meaningfully improved. And within the next decade or two, this infrastructure will require major rebuilding. Planning first is how the City weighs safety, access, equity, land value, and long-term cost together—before any irreversible decisions are made.

Why a “signature bridge” is not the answer

Mayor Ken Welch has described the Ellison proposal as strong, including its signature bridge. What has not yet been fully addressed is whether building over the highway also leaves the wall — and the separation it represents — in place.

Some proposals highlight a large, expensive bridge over I-175 as a symbol of connection.

Here is the plain truth:

A bridge like that would end any real chance to remove or rethink the road.

Once the City:

• Spends major money on a landmark structure

• Builds development around it

• Treats it as permanent infrastructure

…the highway becomes untouchable.

A bridge does not remove the barrier.
It says: The barrier stays.

For a community that already lived through irreversible decisions, that should give everyone pause.

What happens if the City skips planning and sells all at once

If the City skips a full, City-led planning process and sells the site all at once to a single proposal, several things happen immediately—and they cannot be undone later.

• Control shifts away from the public
  Streets, blocks, infrastructure, and phasing become shaped by a private proposal, not by public goals.

• Infrastructure assumptions become permanent
  The highway stays. The wall stays. Any chance to rethink I-175 disappears.

• Equity becomes a negotiation, not a framework
  Community benefits turn into deal terms instead of principles embedded in a public plan.

• Risk increases
  If the chosen developer struggles or stalls, the entire site is tied up rather than moving forward in phases.

• Future leaders lose flexibility
  Decisions made today lock the City into one vision for decades, regardless of changing needs.

This is how cities lose long-term value and repeat past mistakes.

Why planning must come first — before land is sold

A developer proposal starts with fixed assumptions:

• The road stays

• The wall stays

A City-led planning process starts with questions:

• Does this road still serve today’s needs?

• Is it safe?

• Does it reconnect the east–west Black community — or keep cutting it off?

• Does it live up to the equity commitments our leaders have made?

If equity is real, it has to apply to streets, highways, and barriers, not just buildings and benefits.

The bottom line

The Gas Plant community was taken down.
The highway and wall locked that loss in place.

This moment — before any property is sold — is the City’s chance to honor its equity commitments with action, not just words.

Planning first does not guarantee removal.
It guarantees choice.

Once land is sold and bridges are built, that choice is gone.

Equity first means planning first — before any property is sold.