Our fears confirmed

The last trees have fallen. What was once a thriving woodland—home to owls, songbirds, and the quiet beauty of nature—now lies in piles of broken branches and upturned earth. The construction crews have temporarily halted work, perhaps due to recent rains, perhaps because our questions are growing louder. But after exhaustive research, the truth about this project has become clear: the City of Little Rock failed its residents at every turn.

A Pattern of Neglect

When we first heard the sounds of chainsaws and heavy machinery, we assumed there must have been some mistake. Surely the City would have notified residents before approving such drastic changes to our neighborhood. But as we began investigating, we discovered a troubling pattern of secrecy and disregard.

While City officials claim they distributed mailers about the project, the reality is quite different. After speaking with dozens of households and helping elderly neighbors comb through years of saved mail, we found that only those living immediately adjacent to the property received any notification. Standard procedure for developments of this scale requires notices to be sent to residents within at least a 300 to 1,000-foot radius—a basic courtesy that was ignored.

Following the Money

Public records reveal the City purchased this land in 2021 using federal grant money. By May 2023, they had contracted Garnat Engineering, LLC for 125,000 to design the project—the same firm responsible for organizing the community meeting that was canceled and never rescheduled. Shortly after, Escamilla Excavating, LLC was paid 125,000 to clear the land, despite their workers refusing to communicate with concerned residents The same ones that couldn’t speak English. Most baffling of all, Gene Summers Construction, INC received $462,938.40 for unspecified work, with no public explanation provided. How were these companies vetted? Why were they chosen?

A Conspicuous Silence

What is most alarming is the City’s deliberate silence. Despite the scale of this project—and the use of federal funds—there have been no updates on the City’s official website and it’s online calendar. The Mayor’s social media accounts mention it only once, in passing. Our Ward Director, who regularly posts about smaller developments and meeting changes, has said nothing about this project at all.

What Was Lost

Now, all that remains is a scarred landscape. The great owl that once lived in those trees now perches on the excavator that destroyed its home, a haunting symbol of what has been taken. Some residents are ready to take action—to demand accountability through petitions and protests. Others worry that too many neighbors will remain indifferent, that the City is counting on our silence.

But this is not just about one patch of forest. It is about transparency, fairness, and the basic respect a community deserves. If the City can disregard us here, where else will they decide we don’t matter?

The trees are gone. But we are still here—and we are not done asking questions.