What are we willing to sacrifice for a second airport? Would we accept a clogged Sea-Tac?
In April 1942, a woman in a nightgown pointed a rifle at Ray Bishop, a surveyor who was mapping an area of farms and orchards south of Seattle. She said if he came on her property, she’d shoot.
What made her so mad? World War II was underway, the military had already taken over Boeing Field, and her land was about to be taken by the government to build an airport.
She and her neighbors lost their battle to save their homes, farms, and way of life.
The groundbreaking took place the next February. After the war, the Port of Seattle took ownership. Originally 906 acres, Sea-Tac has grown to over 2,500 acres. Its expansions have set off furious opposition from neighbors that slowed — but never stopped — the airport’s growth.
A third runway was built only after a site search for another airport failed in the 1990s.
And here we are again. Now advocates for another airport argue that new technologies and fuels will make airports better neighbors by making airplanes quieter, their carbon footprint smaller, and their operations less polluting. They insist that some community, somewhere, must make this giant civic sacrifice for the sake of our shared future, because the whole Puget Sound region’s economic growth is at stake. One rural site in central Thurston County and two in south Pierce County are the sites in the state’s sights.
Local airport opponents say, in effect, that Pierce and Thurston counties’ souls are at stake. People who live in rural areas love the land they live on and are willing to fight for it. The rural land is home to threatened and endangered species that federal law is supposed to protect. Protecting local agricultural land and food production is ever more important as the climate changes and our supply chains become unreliable.
Plus this is about more than an airport. First, there would have to be a freeway spur from I-5 to serve any of these sites. Then there would be hotels, motels, parking lots, restaurants, and sex workers. That represents a lot of jobs — but nearly all pay low wages, and people who work in them will compete for scarce affordable housing. Where once there were forests, farms and prairies, there will be miles and miles of pavement.
But to be fair, we have to ask ourselves: Can we imagine what our region would be like if that woman in her nightgown had succeeded? What would Puget Sound be like if Sea-Tac didn’t exist? If there were no international airport?
Airport advocates say demand for flights will double by 2050. If they’re right, and there’s no new airport, that demand just won’t be met for passengers or for cargo. Will it be harder for families to get here in a crisis, or for holidays? Will businesses locate elsewhere? Will young people have to move away to find good jobs? Will deliveries slow, as more big trucks on the road replace air cargo?
Or will the shortage of airline capacity speed up development of fast trains that make a dent in carbon emissions? Will innovative, climate-friendly industries be attracted to our beautiful, bucolic region, with its Mount Rainier centerpiece?
In 2050, will people care more about the problems created by the absence of an airport, or about the problems created by the presence of an airport?
We just don’t know. And even if we did, our culture is not very good at preparing for the future, especially the future that is beyond our own lifetimes. The state of climate change is an obvious case in point.
The debate about this issue will go on for a long time. In the course of it, we need to think hard about what our values are, and what our civic obligations are. We need to think about the future of our own rural and small-town areas, and of our interdependent Puget Sound region.
We need to keep our eyes and minds wide open. We need clarity about what we value, and what sacrifices we are willing to make to protect what we value. Our decision will be our legacy, affecting many generations, just as Sea-Tac has already.
