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TECO's power is still with residents

By MARLENE SOKOL
Published January 12, 2007

We moved out of Egypt Lake because, for one thing, the elementary school looked like base camp at Guantanamo.

Three cats had pretty well trashed our rental house. The backyard pool was hard to clean.

And Carrollwood seemed a more fitting place for a growing family.

Since then, we've revisited Egypt Lake many times. Apart from fond remembrances of Al Lopez Park and the great ethnic restaurants along Armenia Avenue, there have been news stories about the power poles.

Ah, if Erin Brockovich had come to Florida a few years earlier.

As it was, Egypt Lake had crusading ex-prosecutor Paul Antinori and Hillsborough County Commissioner Kathy Castor to make the case that no, a utility company can't just throw 125-foot steel poles on people's front lawns without so much as telling them first.

You know the story.

The poles just kind of went up in summer 2003, as if the good people of Egypt Lake wouldn't notice. They did notice.

They wondered about health effects and complained about aesthetics. They pointed out traffic hazards. And they worried about their property values.

There were protests. There were placards.

At one point, Tampa Electric Co. talked about replacing the hulking poles with smaller ones.

But by that time, the county had enacted new rules that, ironically, complicated the replacement plan.

And my former neighbors had lawyered up.

They wanted the poles gone.

Writers like to use the label "working class" when describing Egypt Lake.

But the place is more eclectic, a mix of block homes with burglar bars, lush lakefront properties and, here and there, an architectural gem.

Kirby Street, where the poles stretch clear to Armenia, has setback lots and mature oaks to provide camouflage - if you don't look up.

The poles are a bit more conspicuous on Sitka Street, a winding road with small front yards.

Every once in awhile, you see a pole right on somebody's neat, little lawn.

The lawsuit had its fits and starts. Judges recused themselves for a variety of reasons.

The neighbors suffered two big losses.

Then, this week, as quietly as the poles went up, the lawyers announced a cash deal.

End of lawsuit, end of story. The poles stay.

Today, Castor is in Congress. The neighborhood school still could use a paint job.

A Syms store draws bargain shoppers from everywhere, and the best tailgating is at Al Lopez Park.

Carrollwood has lighted billboards and cellular towers, high-speed cable and Internet.

With plenty of power to run them all.

[Last modified January 11, 2007, 11:54:32]