When a “catfish pond” becomes a massive excavation operation, you know something fishy is going on.
In 2006, Roads Inc., Escambia County’s largest road contractor, applied for a stormwater permit to dig what they called a “catfish pond” on Hillock Drive in Cantonment. What followed was a two-year saga that exposed the ugly underbelly of local government corruption, cronyism, and the lengths some officials will go to protect their friends in high places.
We became involved with Jacqueline Rogers contacted us in 2007. I had helped Dave and Mary Hoxeng launch News Radio and had a one-hour show that ran from 1-2 p.m. on weekdays. The show, “IN Your Head Radio,” helped us build public support for Rogers and her neighborhood.
The Permit That Started It All
The original permit, issued on March 14, 2006, seemed innocent enough. Roads Inc. president Cody Rawson claimed he wanted to “dig a pit, use the material offsite and let the pit fill with water once excavation has ceased. Pit will become a pond to be stocked with fish.”
But here’s where it gets interesting: the permit application was later modified. “Catfish pond” was crossed out and replaced with “Single Family Residence.” “Dig a pit” became “construct a lake.” These weren’t minor clerical corrections—they were fundamental changes to what was supposedly being built.
What Was Really Happening
While Roads Inc. maintained they were building a recreational catfish fishing pond, everyone who visited the site knew better. County officials, reporters, citizens, and even Roads Inc.’s own truck drivers all agreed: this was a borrow pit operation, plain and simple.
For 20 months, massive trucks rolled in and out, hauling away dirt and clay to various construction projects—including some that had nothing to do with Roads Inc. One company even sold the excavated material to neighbors in the area. This wasn’t pond construction; it was commercial mining disguised as aquaculture.
- On “IN Your Head Radio,” I interviewed a Mississippi State University catfish pond expert, Professor James Steeby, who said no holes are dug for a catfish pond; berms are usually built up, and construction takes about four months.
- BTW: Belzoni, Miss., is the catfish capital of the world, and even has the World Catfish Festival annually. The expert said catfish ponds are built above ground, not in pits.
The Conflicts of Interest
The most disturbing aspect of this story wasn’t the illegal excavation—it was the web of personal relationships that allowed it to continue unchecked:
- County Administrator George Touart’s son worked for Roads Inc.
- Touart regularly went on hunting trips with Roads Inc. principals
- The same county-contracted attorney who served as magistrate in the Roads Inc. hearing later served as Touart’s personal agent for a real estate transaction
- Commissioner Mike Whitehead attended a fundraiser hosted by Roads Inc. owner Cody Rawson—even after the county attorney explicitly warned commissioners to avoid contact with Roads Inc. representatives during pending litigation. Whitehead later stepped down as commission chair because of the backlash.
The Neighbors Fight Back
Local residents, led by Jacqueline Rogers of the Knollwood Neighborhood, weren’t fooled. They documented trucks hauling away material, photographed the growing excavation, and repeatedly complained to county officials about the obvious violations.
Their concerns weren’t just about permits and regulations—they were about safety. The massive pit had unstable, unsloped sides and was never properly fenced, despite state law and county ordinances requiring such safety measures. Children were accessing the dangerous site, sometimes camping overnight around the water-filled pit.
The Cover-Up Unravels
County officials initially told neighbors that no permits had been issued, and none were necessary. When that lie was exposed, they shifted to claiming the excavation was legitimate under the stormwater permit. When pressed for a “definitive timeline” to complete the project, County Administrator Touart promised swift action.
- Instead, Assistant County Administrator Bob McLaughlin produced what neighbors called a “lame letter” that essentially gave Roads Inc. an indefinite extension to continue operations. The letter that was supposed to set firm deadlines instead offered more time and excuses.
The controversy finally reached a breaking point in February 2008 when the Escambia County Commission voted to revoke Roads Inc.’s stormwater permit. The company immediately sued, claiming the county was violating its rights.
But the damage was done. What started as a simple permit for a backyard fish pond had become a symbol of everything wrong with local government: the insider dealing, the selective enforcement of regulations, and the willingness to ignore the law when it benefits well-connected contractors.
In June 2008, the county reached a settlement with Roads Inc., giving them six months to complete their “pond” with restricted working hours. By then, the excavation had been ongoing for over two years—quite a long time to dig a simple catfish pond.
The residents of Knollwood Neighborhood deserve credit for their persistence in exposing this corruption. Their vigilance and documentation turned what could have been a quiet backroom deal into a public scandal that ultimately led to accountability.
Today, the area is fenced off- no catfish, no recreational lake.
