Making A Stand Planning Official Sues His Bosses Over Plan To Allow Machine Shops On 150 Acres Over Aquifer

George LaValley, known to colleagues as “Old Faithful,” will not be corked.

Kootenai County’s senior planning commissioner is fighting the political battle of his life.

He is taking his elected bosses to court over protection of the Rathdrum Prairie aquifer.

It is an unusual move, but LaValley says commissioners’ approval of an industrial development over the aquifer risks contaminating drinking water with small quantities of heavy metals.

Some fear the fight may cost LaValley the volunteer position he’s held for 11 years. County commissioners say it won’t; they say they respect LaValley.

“We’re not upset with George,” says Commissioner Dick Panabaker. “He’s done a good job for a long time, but we don’t think he’s right.”

Panabaker says commissioners are disturbed only by the spice of LaValley’s rhetoric: “I don’t have skin that’s thick as a door.”

LaValley, a retired railroad worker known for speaking his mind, says he’ll gush like the famous geyser until his message gets the attention it deserves.

“The human beast hates to admit he’s wrong and he hates like hell to apologize,” LaValley says. “But I don’t accept bullheadedness. Sometimes, you just have to say ‘we goofed.”’

During a reprieve last week from his long-running battle with a rare strain of leukemia, the 75-year-old said filing his court papers had perked him up for the first time in months.

“It made my day. It ruined theirs,” he said of the county commissioners. “But my conscience is clear.”

LaValley jumped into this war after a February decision by commissioners to allow machine shops on 150 acres near the Coeur d’Alene Airport. Commissioners didn’t force developer John Pointner to sign an agreement requiring him to hook up to a sewer system.

LaValley threatened to resign.

While health officials will require Pointner to truck away oil and grease, they don’t have the resources to enforce it.

“I’m not saying Pointner would do anything, but what if the business someday changes hands?” LaValley asked.

“The name of the game is money,” he said. “If you can save $1,000 a week, are you going to pay to have that crap towed away? Or are you going to look over your shoulder and flush it down the drain?”

Commissioners argued that the only alternative presented to them was to allow homes to be built below the airport’s flight path.

LaValley admits that would be disastrous, but he says the choice is simple: “Just say no.”

LaValley is waiting for a court hearing.

“I’ve seen screw-ups before, but never one with consequences that could be this far-reaching,” he said. “I couldn’t just sit by and watch.”

LaValley never has been one to shy from a fight. As mayor of Harrison in the early 1980s, the self-described rabble-rouser earned the enmity of many.

The Clarkia, Idaho, native embarrassed residents by referring to a popular campground as a “dust bowl.” He later apologized, claiming he hadn’t been honest: “When it rains, it’s actually a mud bowl.”

He once narrowly survived a recall drive, but he claimed losing his $25-per-month seat would have saved him money on long-distance calls to other government officials.

“Way I figured it, a recall would put me $3 ahead,” he said.

A city worker once lost a signed - but blank - city check, sending residents into a panic. Not LaValley.

“It wouldn’t have done anybody who found it any good,” he said. “We only had $3.18 in the bank.”

That kind of honesty endeared LaValley to planning colleagues.

“George may shoot from the lip, but he doesn’t shoot from the hip,” said commission Chairman Jon Mueller. “It takes a lot to get him really riled up. When he does get upset, it’s for good reason.”

Kathy Marcus, the county’s former planning director, dubbed LaValley “Old Faithful” during the battle over the county’s comprehensive plan. Despite living 40 miles from Coeur d’Alene, he was too dedicated to miss a meeting. She convinced him to sign on for a fourth term.

“I made her promise it wouldn’t end like Franklin Roosevelt’s,” LaValley said. “My one requirement: I have to live through it.”

These days, LaValley says, he’s living well. He coughs a lot from chemotherapy, but he says the cancer treatments are working. He spends free time fishing, reading history and Westerns and planning.

“George isn’t afraid of anything,” said his wife, Stella. “He keeps his mind working.”

LaValley agrees. “Too many old folks sit in their rockers and stagnate,” he says. “That won’t be me. I’ve got things I want to do.”