Save Cypress Parkway
Dear Editor:
We have lots of problems in this community that all start with some administration somewhere. Washington, Tallahassee, Osceola, and Kissimmee. Each pushing and pulling us to do things their way. Right now, in our community, the last outpost of Poinciana, our county Commissioner wants to put an end to the business center we all depend on. He is doing this as the Chairman of the Central Florida Expressway Authority. He’s got two big cannons and both are pointed at Poinciana.
Our businesses, our jobs, our services, destroyed by the big earth moving equipment they use to build roads. Just like expanding Poinciana Boulevard, he wants to rip up Cypress Parkway to build a super elevated highway to take trucks, trailers, boats, and buses from Interstate 4 to the Florida Turnpike. We get to keep the pollution.
We need roads. We need good roads. Three lane roads without tolls from John Young to High Tower Road and beyond. We need to widen Marigold to at least two lanes in each direction from one end to the other. We need to widen Doverplum, connect Koa Street to Poinciana Boulevard and build another east-west connector as AV Homes originally planned. We don’t need the Great Wall of Poinciana splaying us like the big chicken they think we are.
So what can we do to save Poinciana?
Wake up, get moving, and save your community. Everybody in the Associated Villages of Poinciana in Osceola County and Polk County need to raise their voices to demand they build this somewhere else.
Those homes in the Golf Villas that now back up to Cypress Parkway and those homes along Flag Street will have the wall in their back yard if you don’t stop it.
The small shops and restaurants in the Publix Palisades will be forced to close their doors. The same will be happening in City Center to every independent business and some chain businesses. Lots of jobs will be lost.
This is your job. Save Cypress Parkway before it is too late.
Bill Dalton
Poinciana
Poverty in Plain Sight
Dear Editor:
As part of my graduate internship, I travel from Orange to Osceola County several times a week. On mornings when I stop at the Wawa off U.S. Highway 192 near the Turnpike, I often see individuals seated on inverted paint buckets or milk crates near the Liberty Commons traffic light. Their signs read, “God Bless You” and “Any donation is appreciated.”
They sit quietly—not walking between cars, not causing disruptions. I have watched law enforcement drive by without stopping or engaging. Their presence is easy to miss unless you change your routine. But once you see them, it is impossible to unsee what they represent: poverty in plain sight—quiet, persistent, and too often ignored.
A 2012 Osceola County prohibits roadside solicitation on county roads, yet it is unclear how this applies to connector roads. In 2018, the county also passed an ordinance banning public habitation along the U.S. 192 corridor. Are these policies reducing homelessness—or just pushing it out of sight?
The individuals I have seen are Black, with a few White individuals. This raises deeper questions. Would public reaction be the same if they were Hispanic—particularly those perceived as undocumented? Would silent tolerance shift to louder outrage?
We cannot continue to rely on selective enforcement or quiet avoidance. Poverty should not be judged by race or hidden by discomfort.
We must ask ourselves: Have we normalized poverty in public spaces? Do we enforce policy with equity? And most importantly, are we addressing needs—or just avoiding discomfort?
Karen Robinson
Orlando
