NEW ORLEANS (WVUE) – Supporters of Louisiana’s costliest and most controversial coastal restoration project argue the state would face significant hurdles should it decide to cancel the project.
“Where we live, the water is coming up and the land is sinking and we are so fortunate to have this giant river that we can use,” said Kimberly Reyher, Executive Director of the Coalition to Restore Coastal Louisiana.
For decades, Reyher and other coastal restoration advocates have dreamed of putting the Mississippi River to work, mimicking the power of the river to build land.
The Mid-Barataria Sediment Diversion Project would channel up to 70,000 cubic feet of river water and sediment per second — over 523,000 gallons– into Barataria Bay.
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The project aims to build 28 square miles of land over 30 years, though computer models project that total would fall to 21 square miles after 50 years due to factors such as subsidence and sea-level rise.
In December 2022, the U.S. Army Corps of Engineers granted the Louisiana Coastal Protection and Restoration Authority the necessary permits to build Mid-Barataria.
However, Plaquemines Parish recently ordered work on the project stopped while a parish lawsuit works its way through the courts.
A separate lawsuit, filed in U.S. District Court in New Orleans by the International Marine Mammal Project, contends that the Army Corps’ approval of the project violates the National Environmental Policy Act, the Endangered Species Act, and the Administrative Procedures Act.
COAST IN CRISIS
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The administration of Governor Jeff Landry has sent mixed signals about its commitment to Mid-Barataria in recent weeks, citing the lawsuits and the project’s estimated $2.9 billion cost.
“There is a better way to do things without sacrificing our fishing industries and our culture and our heritage,” said charter boat captain George Ricks, who has spearheaded opposition to the project from many fishermen who fear the effects of freshwater entering the bay.
“We killed more dolphins during the Bonnet Carre Spillway opening than the BP oil spill,” Lt. Governor Billy Nungesser said at last month’s CPRA board meeting. “Nobody’s ever going to tell you that.”
Nungesser argues the state could spread the money more evenly around the coast without the project’s more damaging effects.
“Everybody who represents a parish at this meeting should be outraged,” Nungesser said.
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However, many of the project’s supporters argue the state may find it challenging to re-direct the money.
Funding for the diversion flows, in three large pots of money, from fines and court settlements associated with the 2010 BP oil spill in the Gulf of Mexico.
The largest chunk of that money, $2.26 billion, was provided by the federal and state trustees overseeing the oil spill settlement.
The money is aimed at restoring resources damaged during the spill.
For that reason, diversion supporters argue the state would find it difficult to simply wave a magic wand and redirect the funding.
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Rehyer said channeling the money into other areas would be, “very complicated, possibly not possible.” Ricks argues that the CPRA could find a way to re-purpose the money.
“You could take that corridor that they built now for the Mid-Barataria Diversion and put a sediment pipeline and pump sediment in,” Ricks said. “We all want the sediment.”
Some critics have suggested building a smaller diversion as a compromise, but even that gets complicated since the Army Corps would have to sign off on any changes.
Through the permitting process, the Corps analyzed alternatives to the diversion, including ones that would send less water into the bay. At 70,000 cubic feet per second, the diversion would carry sediment into the surrounding waters.
However, computer modeling suggests a smaller flow of water might lack the velocity to deliver sediment while producing some of the same negative effects on fisheries and marine life. In other words, a smaller project might produce the same harmful effects without the benefits.
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By Nungesser’s estimate, Louisiana has already spent over $300 million on project design, engineering, and early construction.
If it pulls the plug on the project, there has even been speculation the state might have to pay back the boards that control the money.
Louisiana has used hundreds of millions of oil spill dollars to restore barrier islands, and over the last year, the two largest marsh creation projects in history.
“Dredging builds land now. Land you can walk on that protects our communities,” Ricks said.
Reyher argues a diversion would have more lasting power, steadily delivering sediment for decades to come.
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“As soon as you turn the dredge off, the land starts to sink,” Reyher said. “So, we can’t dredge our way out of this.”
CPRA Chairman Gordon Dove has said a comprehensive report on the various aspects of the diversion was being prepared for Gov. Landry.
Louisiana’s shift away from its signature “jungle” primary system is about to come with a serious price tag, The Center Square writes.
Beginning in 2026, voters casting ballots for Congress, the state Supreme Court, BESE and the Public Service Commission will participate in closed-party primaries—while unaffiliated voters can pick just one side. The Legislative Fiscal Office says switching to this more traditional system could cost taxpayers up to $47 million over five years, driven largely by the possibility of more runoff elections.
Each statewide runoff alone could reach $7 million, thanks to printing, staffing and overtime needs. Meanwhile, the Secretary of State’s office is preparing for more than $2 million in voter education and reprogramming costs as Louisiana overhauls ballots, party labels and election technology for 2026.
KENNER, La. (AP) — The doors of Carmela Diaz’s taco joint are locked, the tables are devoid of customers and…
KENNER, La. (AP) — The doors of Carmela Diaz’s taco joint are locked, the tables are devoid of customers and no one is working in the kitchen. It’s one of many once-thriving Hispanic businesses, from Nicaraguan eateries to Honduran restaurants, emptied out in recent weeks in neighborhoods with lots of signs in Spanish but increasingly fewer people on the streets.
In the city of Kenner, which has the highest concentration of Hispanic residents in Louisiana, a federal immigration crackdown aiming for 5,000 arrests has devastated an economy already struggling from ramped-up enforcement efforts this year, some business owners say, and had far-reaching impacts on both immigrants and U.S. citizens alike.
“Fewer and fewer people came,” said a crying Diaz, whose Taqueria La Conquistadora has been closed for several weeks now with both customers and workers afraid to leave home. “There were days we didn’t sell anything. That’s why I made the decision to close the business — because there was no business.”
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On Wednesday, convoys of federal vehicles began rumbling back and forth down Kenner’s main commercial streets as the Department of Homeland Security commenced the latest in a series of immigration enforcement operations that have included surges in Los Angeles, Chicago and Charlotte, North Carolina. Bystanders have posted videos of federal agents detaining people outside Kenner businesses and at construction sites.
Border Patrol commander Gregory Bovino also made an appearance in the city, surrounded by agents in tactical gear, to tout to reporters the launch of the operation dubbed Catahoula Crunch, a name derived from the big game hound that is the Louisiana state dog.
A community on edge
The state’s Hispanic population has boomed in the last two decades, with many of them arriving in the aftermath of 2005’s Hurricane Katrina to help rebuild. In Kenner, just west of New Orleans between the Mississippi River and Lake Pontchartrain, Hispanics make up about 30% of residents.
Diaz, who is from El Salvador, arrived in 2006 after years of doing farm work in Texas. She opened food trucks, earning enough to buy a home in Kenner, and her business has since expanded to a fleet of trucks and two brick-and-mortar restaurants.
Nearly all that is shuttered at the moment due to the crackdown, and Diaz is scraping by through making home deliveries to people fearful of being swept up by agents.
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“They don’t respect anyone,” Diaz said. “They don’t ask for documents. They don’t investigate. They slap the handcuffs on them and take them away.”
DHS says operations target violent offenders
Spokesperson Tricia McLaughlin said Thursday that federal agents have already made dozens of arrests, though the agency has not released a full list of people detained.
“Americans should be able to live without fear of violent criminal illegal aliens harming them, their families, or their neighbors,” McLaughlin said in a statement. “In just 24 hours on the ground, our law enforcement officers have arrested violent criminals with rap sheets that include homicide, kidnapping, child abuse, robbery, theft, and assault.”
The office of Mayor Michael Glaser, a former police chief, declined to comment on his stance on the operation. But it said the crackdown “falls under federal jurisdiction” and the mayor expects all agencies operating in the city to conduct themselves “professionally, lawfully and with respect for our community.” It also said the city is “not participating in or advising” on the operation.
However, the city’s police are among the hundreds of local and state law enforcement agencies nationwide that have signed agreements to be part of an Immigration and Customs Enforcement program that authorizes them to hold detainees for potential deportation.
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Fearing for vulnerable relatives
Sergio Perez, a Guatemalan immigrant and U.S. citizen who has lived in Kenner since 2010, said he has loved ones there who lack legal permission to be in the country risk and being detained or deported. He also worries that anyone who is Hispanic is at risk of abuse by federal agents, regardless of their immigration status.
While Perez considers Kenner home — a place where it’s easy to find favorite dishes like “caldo de res,” a hearty beef and vegetable stew — he’s prepared to leave the country if family members are deported.
“They don’t want us here,” Perez said. “It’s like you are in someone’s house and you don’t feel welcome. They’re just killing our spirit.”
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Cline reported from Baton Rouge, Louisiana. Associated Press writer Valerie Gonzalez in McAllen, Texas, contributed.
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Brook is a corps member for The Associated Press/Report for America Statehouse News Initiative. Report for America is a nonprofit national service program that places journalists in local newsrooms to report on undercovered issues.
At a small play area inside a newly renovated building on Canal Street in New Orleans, De Jon Muwwakkil watched her daughter work a pulley elevator on a dollhouse and tuck a stuffed panda behind a miniature cupboard — “his new home,” the child announced.
For Muwwakkil, who completed outpatient substance use treatment through Volunteers of America Southeast Louisiana, moments like that show what recovery could like when women don’t have to choose between getting help and caring for their children.
“Having my child in the program with me was the pinnacle, the top-notch service I needed,” she said.
Many women in New Orleans have never been able to consistently stay with their children throughout treatment. But on Tuesday, Nov. 25, VOASELA held a ribbon-cutting ceremony for Canal Pointe, New Orleans’ only family-centered residential treatment and recovery facility for pregnant women and mothers with children. The site, a former auto dealership across from University Medical Center, has been transformed into a 31-room center where families will live together for about 90 days while the parent goes through treatment.
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“This is an opportunity,” Muwwakkil said. “It keeps women and children safe, away from the triggers, away from the bad actors in the streets, away from the bad substances, the traumatic experiences of someone’s life.”
Keeping families together
A small library inside Canal Pointe is stocked with local children’s books, and the facility also includes a teaching kitchen, play areas, community areas for families, and private rooms equipped with cribs and trundle beds so mothers and children can stay together. Outpatient services are already operating, and residential admissions are expected to begin in December or January.
Medication-assisted treatment will be provided on site through DePaul Community Health Centers. The first week for new residents is typically a blur of medical appointments, group therapy, individual counseling and case management, staff said.
Jackie Kellett, VOASELA’s assistant vice president of integrated and behavioral health and a licensed clinical social worker, said treating mothers alongside their children is essential. Child care barriers often stop women from seeking help, but they don’t have to choose between getting help and their children at Canal Point. With everyone able to stay together, Kellett pointed out the facility would also be able to offer services to anyone in the family who needs it. She often has seen multigenerational substance use.
“I’ve worked with clients where sometimes their first substance use was with their parents, when they were as young as 9 doing heroin,” Kellett said. “It’s really important to break that cycle.”
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A growing crisis
Louisiana continues to see high overdose rates among pregnant and postpartum women. Accidental overdose is the leading cause of death among pregnant women in the state. In the most recent report, 28 women died of overdose in a single year.
Nick Albares, who helped oversee the project’s development, said the $8-million-plus facility was funded through a mix of tax credits, federal and private grants, and philanthropy. It will cost roughly $2 million annually to operate. Medicaid is expected to cover about a month of treatment per participant, supplemented by TANF dollars. But outside support will remain critical.
No one will be turned away because of an inability to pay, Albares said. “But it’s not a program that is sustainable on its own.”
“It’s going to take everyone to make it work,” said Voris Vigee, CEO and president of VOASELA.
The facility will accept women from across Louisiana.
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VOASELA leaders emphasized the project’s goal of providing long-term stability for families navigating both addiction and poverty. The organization expects Canal Pointe to serve 150 to 200 mothers and children each year.
The organization is accepting donations of hygiene items, cleaning supplies and new clothing for residents.
