Data center brings hope, apprehension to parish
When I started in newspapers 43 years ago, it took a building full of people to put one out.
Even a small paper required half a dozen people setting type, developing film and waxing strips onto lifesize galley sheets. We had darkrooms, chemicals and strange equipment we proudly showed to school kids on tour.
Today, I’d show them a computer on my desk.
We don’t give many tours anymore.
The change didn’t happen overnight. Someone would quit. I’d fill in. A month later, the boss would decide we didn’t need a replacement after all because the work was getting done. You’ve all been there.
Technology did the rest.
Desktop computers meant I no longer had to type my stories, hand them to someone else to retype, then pass film to someone else to cut and paste onto a page. Those jobs disappeared. Me? I was usually at the courthouse, drinking coffee while someone insisted nothing interesting was happening in their office but the guy down the hall had something going on. That’s how we got stories before texting and Facebook messenger was invented.
Progress, at least for me, meant more time chained to a desk and less time doing the part of the job I love.
Now things are changing again.
The Beacon has new owners, Craig and Kim Franklin of Jena. They’re upgrading hardware and updating systems. The result is less time chained to my desk and more time back in the field.
That’s why I got into this business. Believe it or not, I enjoy police jury and school board meetings. If you like people-watching, they’re better than the Super Bowl.
I love hearing someone talk about their kid’s first deer. One of my favorite memories at the Beacon was trying to find the perfect angle to photograph a giant watermelon Perry Smith grew so readers could appreciate just how massive it was. I love taking pictures of kids with their animals at the Stock Show.
These days it might be the DCS Vidreams team showing off a prizewinning robot or a group of students demonstrating an app they designed. Instead of photographing chalkboards and transcribing notes later, I can ask a teacher to email the PowerPoint from a smartboard.
Yes, I’m that old. That’s also why the new data center doesn’t terrify me as much as it does some people. I’ve covered more ribbon cuttings at shiny new plants than most people have had hot breakfasts. None of them dramatically altered anyone’s life.
Anyone who says the data center is pure evil and will destroy Richland Parish is probably wrong. Anyone who says it’s the greatest thing ever and will make everyone better off is just as wrong.
We’re about to become something close to a boom town as construction workers pour in. More tax money. More traffic. More noise. More, well, just more.
It will help some people and hurt others.
People like to say the data center will be the size of Manhattan, an island where 1.6 million people live. In Richland Parish terms, that’s roughly enough space to graze 3,000 head of cattle. I’ll let you decide what that says about New York.
That’s a lot of land out of production. Wildlife pushed somewhere else. Trees that won’t be producing oxygen. Water and electricity redirected.
Meanwhile, trees are being clear-cut in other parts of the parish as farming operations move off land sold to developers in Holly Ridge. More wildlife relocating.
So much for the Sportsman’s Paradise. Maybe the next license plate will feature robots playing laser tag.
There’s plenty to dislike.
On the plus side, schools will receive more tax dollars. STEM classes are expanding. Kids who once thought there was no future here may study computer science or electrical engineering.
The data center is expected to bring about 500 permanent jobs once construction ends. That’s far fewer than the 5,000 workers arriving to build it, but it represents opportunity.
Richland Parish’s young people desperately need opportunity. They need hope.
Like all change, we have to weigh what we gain against what we give up. I think about those kids and their first deer or their first big fish, but I also see the kids learning to build robots not having to leave the parish when they graduate.
Politicians and business leaders talk about legacy and building a future. Few understand what that really means. Say the names Dave Treen or Buddy Roemer and many people will pause. Half the readers don’t know who they were, and most don’t care.
No one remembers who their senator was the year they were born or who the richest person in town happened to be. Wealth, power and reputation are temporary.
What lasts are the memories people carry of where they grew up and what that place gave them.
As work on the data center continues, I hope the people shaping Richland Parish’s future are thinking less about headlines and dollar signs and more about the kind of community they want their grandchildren to inherit.
If they are, we’ll be fine.
Darryl Riser is editor of the Richland Beacon-News.
