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Georgetown County Airport has 61 based aircraft and averages 60 daily operations.
Jim Taylor arrived at his office one day last summer assuming the typical day’s routine—that is, until he became aware of unexpected activity. A group of workmen had gathered along with their equipment in a wooded area nearby. And then trees began falling.
To Taylor, the actions were surprising and concerning, even potentially alarming. He went to investigate and learned that the trees covering a 29-acre section of land were being cleared to make way for a high-density development of 274 private homes. Hearing that, he started telephoning.
- Two-hundred seventy-four homes on short final
- Doolittle warned of inappropriate land use
- Power rests with local zoning
The property had been annexed in 2005 by the coastal city of Georgetown, South Carolina—a key fact, since Taylor kept abreast of county activities, but less so of municipal matters. Consequently, he was unaware of the project and its approval by the city’s planning commission, whose interim director was the recipient of Taylor’s first call.
The problem, Taylor explains, was the site’s location 2,500 ft. from—and directly under—the final approach to the end of Runway 23 at Georgetown County Airport (KGGE), of which Taylor is the longtime manager. He further says that the work violated state ordinances and that the project, if built, would endanger aircraft and occupants, all within the development, and threaten the viability of the county-owned airport’s 6,000-ft. primary runway. Taylor recalls the bureaucrat’s response was an unenthusiastic “We’ll look into it”—a too-familiar reaction to airport encroachment concerns.
Taylor’s next call was to Gary Siegfried, executive director of the South Carolina Aeronautics Commission.
Whereas states commonly entrust zoning matters to local authorities, South Carolina has a special regard for its 58 public-use airports, which annually generate multibillions of dollars in economic impact and hundreds of millions in state tax revenues.
Accordingly, state law requires local planning officials to regulate densities around those airports and their approaches. State law also empowers the aeronautics commission to abate hazards to aviation including land uses; require local officials to consider aviation safety in land-use planning decisions near airports; and to notify the commission of any proposed changes to such locations, including zoning changes. The commission in turn determines whether the changes are compatible, need specific modifications or are incompatible with safe air operations. If the project proceeds despite a negative finding, the commission can take legal action.
While the federal government has long recognized the importance of compatible land use near airports—as was urged by a presidential commission led by Jimmy Doolittle back in 1952—it was never made federal law. The FAA provides guidance instead. Meanwhile, the steady creep of “progress” out toward once-remote airports continues with sometimes tragic and often expensive consequences.
Siegfried uses actual examples to underscore that threat, including a 2007 accident at Cantrell Field in Conway, Arkansas. A Citation 500 landed long on a wet runway, and the pilot attempted a go-around but clipped a blast deflector, crashed through the perimeter fence, crossed a residential street and slammed into a house. He and a woman resident were killed. A similar accident had occurred years before, and the community decided twice was too many. It took seven years and $30 million, but the area is now served by Conway Regional Airport (KCXW), located 7 mi. from the former in-town facility.
Then there’s Ridgeland-Claude Dean Airport (3J1), a South Carolina facility dating back to 1938. Seven decades later—and before the full array of state statutes addressing such actions was in place—local leadership decided to build a public school across the street and directly in line with Runway 21. To help safeguard students and teachers, the airport eventually built a north-south runway and closed the old strip for $22 million in federal, state and county funds.
After months of inaction by Georgetown and with the land prep continuing, Siegfried wrote to the city’s recently installed director of planning, notifying him that the housing project needed commission review and failing that, legal action could follow. That halted further issuance of permits and a restart of the planning process.
Ultimately, Siegfried suspects the construction project will proceed, but with restrictions imposed to ensure safe operations. That, Taylor says, is absolute: “We have to protect our airport and our approaches.“
But KGGE’s supporters are resigned to another seeming absolute: As each new home is occupied, those new residents will come to regard activity at the 83-year-old facility next door to be so noisy and dangerous that it should be bulldozed to make way for more housing.
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