It starts around 6:45 a.m.—a faint, faraway boom, followed by a low growl that makes my stomach tighten and hands clench. Within seconds, the growl turns into a low rumbling, then a loud rumbling, then an intensely loud roar and whine, up to 70 decibels, as a 737 shoots over its low path across the Mulholland Corridor.

This goes on constantly for the next four hours as the planes of Southwest and other airlines fly west from Hollywood Burbank Airport and over Studio City, where I live, and the homes of 200,0000 of my fellow San Fernando Valley residents, from Toluca Lake to Encino.

In the late morning, the frequency of these flights slows down, though they are joined by scores of helicopter flights that follow the same path. About 5:00 p.m., the 737s pick up their pace again, along with low-flying UPS and FedEx jets.

This goes on until about 10 p.m., when the celebrity and business flights enter the narrow airspace in droves, jetting to and from Las Vegas, Salt Lake City, or even Anaheim or Santa Monica. Things die down after 11 p.m., when only the occasional American or JetBlue flight makes a connection, or when Jay-Z needs to head out to a meeting in New York.

For many Angelenos, the Burbank airport is a well-loved alternative to LAX. But 7 years ago, a sudden shift in flight patterns at Burbank airport allowed for more flights and forced more of them south of the 101 freeway. Those of us living under the changed flight paths now contend with a new level of daily noise, air pollution, and a huge amount of black plane soot in our yards, trees, and plants.

Several activist groups have labeled this jet superhighway a “sacrifice zone”—a place where others profit off residents’ health and safety degradations. An estimated 10,000 school children live and study under this jet superhighway, which also spans 75,000 acres of Santa Monica Mountains parkland that is home to a dwindling wildlife population and draws hikers and others from all over Southern California.

How did a part of Los Angeles that is both densely populated and contains legally protected green space become a dumping ground for jet fuel soot and dangerous levels of noise pollution?

In late 2016, the Federal Administration of Aviation (FAA) shifted flight paths south ostensibly to save money on fuel and modernize its flight procedures. Most communities deeply impacted by this shift did not know about the change until it was too late for residents to file petitions or protest. One day in the winter of that year, several jets in rapid succession flew so low over our home that we thought there was military action nearby. Seven years later, 100 to 200 flights per day go directly or nearly directly over my home.

At the time of the change, this specific swatch of land was governed by some of the most vocal environmental champions in the Los Angeles—City Councilmembers Paul Krekorian and Paul Koretz.

They, as well as a deputy from then-Senator Kamala Harris’ office, attended meetings with the public about the new flight paths with and formal task force meetings with the public and the FAA from September 2019 to May 2020. Former Los Angeles City Attorney. Mike Feuer and current City Attorney Hydee Feldstein-Soto have filed lawsuits against the FAA over the shift in flight patterns and the proposed airport terminal expansion, respectively. But those legal actions have not stopped the FAA.

Congressman Adam B. Schiff has asked the FAAA for a review of noise around the airport, and Congressman Brad Sherman wants the project halted until the FAA can reduce the noise and environmental impacts on the community. But the FAA informed Sherman that the recommendations made by the task force didn’t meet federal safety criteria. The agency recently issued a draft Environmental Assessment on the proposed changes to the airport’s southern departures. The public can submit comments until January 24.

Meanwhile, the airport is growing, with more flights now than in 2016. The airport’s proposed expansion of its NextGen satellite system, an upgrade to one of its terminals, and a change in airport configuration will almost certainly bring even more flights and more noise to the Mulholland Corridor.  The airport will also be using federal funds designated for its terminal expansion in litigation involving the project.

Who benefits from a larger, busier airport, and this flight path? Southwest and other airlines, which boost the tax revenue for the city of Burbank. No single community should have to bear the brunt of the airport’s noise and environmental impact. The airport should fairly disperse the flights and revert to higher altitudes.

Los Angeles City and County leadership, the state’s Santa Monica Mountains Conservancy, and the Mountains Recreation and Conservation Authority all have stakes in the impacts caused by the Burbank airport. They may be the only people able to bring the federal regulators to the table. Meanwhile, my neighbors and I, as well as the animals and plants of the Santa Monica Mountains, are suffering.

The post No Sleep for Those Under the ‘Jet Superhighway’ appeared first on Zócalo Public Square.

Mayor Garcetti, make no mistake, this is a citizen’s cry for help. You may not know me, but you know of 50,000 of my like-minded denizens. And in a city where less than 10 percent of the four million inhabitants ever actually deign to vote, that’s a fairly solid demo. You even look like one of us.

Oh I know, we downtowners neither engender nor practice much sympathy, but trust me, all our geo-local social media push-polling demonstrates that the DTLA dweller is an upwardly-mobile, future-grasping, diverse demographic, crying for segmentation, and ripe for political cultivation. We are each and all keenly aware of the problem.

No doubt there’s a lot to love and recommend about emergent DTLA. We host several of America’s finest new restaurants, boast avant-garde architecture, and toast a vibrantly evolving cultural tableau.

As well as plenty not to love. For there is nearly as much to despise as adore about this molten stage downtown nouveau. Inexplicable traffic seizures, an onslaught of hoverboards, and usurious rents. For each of these reasons and more, I hereby humbly apologize. Please, send help.

Whether one regards the emergence of DTLA as a modern positive parable, or derides this rise as rife with negative socioeconomic displacement, you’re both right. And if you’re conflicted, all you need to do is live here a week to experience the stimulating heights and schizoid depths of this constantly changing ecosystem. Enthralling scenes of playful resurrection, punctuated by wafts of wayfaring weed, attended by throngs of natural-acting Airbnb schleppers. Forgive us, we lifelong suburbanites are still new to the sprawling perils and Faustian bargains of urban living.

And then, at 6:30 am each weekday comes the pain. It registers deep in the inner ear and shoots right up your temple.

There is a dramatic decibel difference contrasting the inescapable ear-piercing drone of downtown L.A. daylight hours, and the tranquil buzz of DTLA at night and weekends.

But the only noise that really matters wakes up six mornings a week: And it’s those God forsaken backup beepers every misbegotten construction adjacent vehicle in the county blares on stadium mode everywhere they idle. These devices, also known as vehicle motion alarms, chime at a jarring 97 to 112 decibels. Hearing damage starts at 80 decibels. Each of these tens of thousands of blasted daily pleats are audible up to 3 kilometers away.

To place the situation in perspective, there are 220 blocks to Downtown Los Angeles, comprising 16 districts. And per Los Angeles Downtown News, there are at present no less than 106 different major construction projects. Each with its own attendant fleet of loudly reversing vehicles. Each with their yawping beeps audible up to 1.5 miles away. Sneaking in their pleat daily, teasing that magical pre-6:30 am dawn, mildly traumatizing all of those consigned to live within earshot.

In fact, pretty much all of them are in reverse at all times. Why? For the same reason you use reverse to parallel park your car: because tractors, diggers and forklifts all angle far better when handled in reverse. Even the cherry-pickers, which are stationary beasts, chime mercilessly as their basket ascends upward, apparently to warn any lingering airspace faeries. Which truly points up the rampant silliness of the entire situation. Machines blare chimes at teeth-jarringly amplified pitches, ostensibly to protect innocent bystanders, none of whom are actually ever present on any of these professional construction lots.

So you assume these maddening bleeps are mandated to alert bypassing fellow construction workers. No. It would make sense, but in actuality they are not. For it is plain to see and galling to observe that all the nearby-working laborers sport thick noise-muting ear wear designed principally to snuff out the very signal that must by OSHA decree be blared in their honor.

Hammering, loading, garbage hauling—all are legitimate and necessary byproducts of urban development and city living. Backup beepers are decidedly not. They’re a scourge, and a needless one. The City of London valiantly banned these gratuitous noisemakers, to muted fanfare and soothed senses citywide.

This is where you, Mayor Garcetti, can lead with the pen to galvanize and command a struggling generation of poised online donors, community shakers, and platform tastemakers. Stop the insanity, ban the beepers, silence the chimes, and make L.A. great again. Let me rephrase that. Help us common sense innovate to embody that transcendent modern city on a hill that innovatively holds the line against widespread urban noise pollution. Which San Francisco will just haaate.

Please, we beg of you, legislate these needless nuisances out of circulation, Mr. Mayor, and you will surely be hailed and rewarded by your grateful subjects. And suddenly the coolest new city in America will also rank most blissfully at peace. Like Vancouver.

The post The Noise That’s Polluting Downtown L.A. appeared first on Zócalo Public Square.