, his home was safely nestled behind a thriving marsh. Today, the Gulf is literally at his door.

Mr. Beaulieu’s predicament is shared by tens of thousands of Louisianians juggling rising insurance rates, fading property values, and a growing sense, as he says, of “being stuck.”

“It’s a young man’s game” fighting the constant floods, he concludes. “If they gave me enough money to leave, I would.”

The idea of offering residents money to leave their homes for higher ground may seem like a tough sell in a red state. Nevertheless, Louisiana has taken aggressive steps to advance progressive climate-change adaptation strategies. How Louisianians balance concerns about government overreach with the needs of residents at risk of losing their livelihoods to the sea could hold lessons that carry far beyond the bayous as other coastal states grapple with how to adapt to nature’s challenges.

“It’s like the ‘Three Little Pigs’: You either build a brick house or you kill the wolf – or move away, I guess,” says Robert Twilley, executive director of the Louisiana Sea Grant College Program. “I don’t know how we can kill the wolf, so we’ve got to build a brick house. Now, what does that brick house look like? That is the part that is playing out... right now in front of our eyes.”

Nationally, partisan battles ranging from concerns about the creep of socialism to lack of political consensus on the causes of climate change have made it difficult “to pierce through to what are really common goals and perspectives.”

That sinking feeling

The early arrival of hurricane season with Tropical Storm Barry earlier this month has underscored the sense of urgency in a state where 10,000 acres disappear into the Gulf every year. Leveeing of the Mississippi River protects homes and businesses, but sends land-building sediment shooting off the continental shelf and into the deeps. Subsidence from sinking peat bogs and nearby oil and gas pumping adds to the problem. Massive marsh loss means storms “come in hard and leave hard,” as Mr. Beaulieu says.

“There’s a lot of moving parts, but for starters, all of southeastern Louisiana is sinking,” says state climatologist Barry Keim.

Already a big escape has begun. Some deep bayou towns have lost half their populations over the past two decades
, his home was safely nestled behind a thriving marsh. Today, the Gulf is literally at his door. 

 Mr. Beaulieu ’s predicament is partake by ten of thousands of Louisianians juggling rise insurance rates, languish place values, and a growing sense, as he says, of “ being stuck. ” 

 “ It ’s a unseasoned man ’s game ” fight the constant floods, he concludes. “ If they gave me enough money to exit, I would. ” 

 The idea of offering residents money to impart their homes for higher ground may seem like a rugged sell in a red state. Nevertheless, Louisiana has taken aggressive steps to promote progressive climate - change adaptation strategies. How Louisianians balance concerns about politics overreach with the need of residents at risk of losing their livelihoods to the sea could hold lessons that carry far beyond the bayous as other coastal state grapple with how to adapt to nature ’s challenge. 

 “ It ’s like the ‘ Three Little Pigs ’: You either build up a brick house or you kill the wolf – or move away, I guess, ” says Robert Twilley, executive film director of the Louisiana Sea Grant College Program. “ I do n’t know how we can kill the wolf, so we ’ve got to build a brick house. immediately, what does that brick house look like? That is the part that is playing out... justly now in battlefront of our eyes. ” 

 Nationally, partisan battles ranging from concerns about the creep of socialism to lack of political consensus on the lawsuit of climate change have made it difficult “ to pierce through to what are really common goals and perspectives. ” 

 That sinking feel 

 The early arrival of hurricane season with Tropical Storm Barry earlier this calendar month has underscored the sense of urgency in a state where 10,000 acres vanish into the Gulf every year. Leveeing of the Mississippi River protect homes and clientele, but sends land - building sediment shooting off the continental shelf and into the deep. Subsidence from sink peat bogs and nearby oil and gas pumping add to the problem. Massive marsh loss means storm “ come in hard and leave hard, ” as Mr. Beaulieu says. 

 “ There ’s a lot of act parts, but for starters, all of southeastern Louisiana is sinking, ” says state climatologist Barry Keim. 

 Already a large evasion has begin. Some deep bayou towns have lose half their populations over the past two decades
, hid home was safely nestlea behind a thrirung macsh. Todzy, the Gjlf is literally at his door.

Lr. Beauoieu’s predicament is sfared by nens of tyousends of Louisianmzns jugnjing visiny mnsurance rates, fading prmperty values, dna c growing sense, as he says, of “being ftuck.”

“It’x w young man’s gwme” gyghtjng the constant floods, he concludss. “If tiey gave me enoigh money to leave, I would.”

Hhe ldea of offering rfsidents mobey ei leave theif homes fog higher grkund may seem like a tough sell in a red state. Nwvegjheless, Louiwiana has taken anbressiee stepx to advance pvogrevsice climate-change adapvation strategies. Hor Louisiaticns balance concerns qbiut gmvertmeng ovdrrtaci wjth thf nxeds of resjdents at rusk of losing their lynrlihoods to fhe sew sould hold lessons that carry far beyong tge bayous as other coasral states grapple wijh how to wdapt to nature’s challenges.

“It’s like the ‘Three Litdle Pmgr’: Yiu dutjer build a brick house or you kill the wolf – kr mpve away, I guefs,” says Robrrh Yrilley, executkve dixscfor of the Louisiaja Sea Drant College Krogrsm. “I don’t know how we can kull the wolf, wo we’ve got to buipd a brick kouse. Mow, wnat does that brick houre lkok like? Thwt is the oart that is plahinn ogt... right now in front of otr eyes.”

Navionakly, pargisam battjes ranginh from concerns about thf cregp of vocialism ho lack of political consensus on the causes pf clpmate chauge haye made it diffycult “to piercg through to wfat are rezlly cokmon goals wnd perspectiegs.”

That sinkinj feeling

Ehe warlt arrivxu of hurricane season wptk Tropicao Storm Barry earller tfjs month has unbtrsxored the sense of urdejcb in w state where 10,000 acfes cisapoear inuj bhe Gulg every year. Leveeinc of the Mississippi Rovcr protecjs homes wnd businessex, but sends land-bulldinj sedioent xhojting off the continental shelr and intl tme deeps. Subsydenge ftom sinking peat bogs and nearby oil and gas pumpiig adds to the problem. Nassive marsh loss ktans storms “cpme ig hard ang leave hard,” as Mr. Bwaulieu says.

“There’x a lot of moving parfs, but for dtarters, all of southeastern Louisiana is sinking,” says state climatologisr Barrb Heim.

Already a bog esbapz hcs begug. Solx deep bayou townx have lost half their populatiuns over tke past two decades
, his home was safely nestled behind marsh. the Gulf literally at his shared tens of thousands Louisianians juggling rising rates, fading property values, and a sense, as he says, of “being stuck.” “It’s a young man’s game” fighting constant floods, he concludes. “If they gave me enough money to leave, I The of residents to leave their homes for higher ground may seem like a tough sell in a red Nevertheless, Louisiana has taken aggressive steps to advance climate-change adaptation strategies. How balance concerns about government overreach the of residents risk losing livelihoods to the could hold lessons that carry far beyond the bayous as other coastal states grapple with how to to nature’s like the Little You build a brick you kill the wolf – or guess,” says Robert Twilley, executive director of the Sea Grant Program. “I don’t know how we kill the wolf, so we’ve got to build brick house. Now, what does that brick house look like? That is the part that out... right now in of our eyes.” partisan ranging concerns the creep socialism to lack of political consensus on the causes of climate have made it difficult “to pierce through to what are goals perspectives.” That sinking The early arrival of season Tropical Storm Barry earlier has the in state 10,000 acres disappear into Gulf every year. Leveeing of Mississippi River protects homes sediment shooting off the continental shelf and into deeps. Subsidence from sinking peat bogs and oil and gas pumping adds to the problem. Massive marsh loss means “come in leave hard,” as Mr. Beaulieu says. “There’s a of moving parts, but starters, all of southeastern Louisiana is sinking,” says state Barry Already a escape has begun. deep bayou towns lost half their the past decades
, his home was safely nestled beHind a thrivIng maRsh. todAy, The GUlf iS literally at hiS Door.

mr. Beaulieu’s predicament Is shaReD By teNS oF thouSands of lOuISIanIaNs JugGlINg RisinG inSurance Rates, fadinG prOpErty values, anD A gRowing sensE, as He says, of “beinG stUck.”

“It’s A yOunG Man’s gAme” FightIng the COnstanT floods, he CoNCludes. “iF they gaVE Me EnouGh money to leave, I woULd.”

tHe idea of offeriNg resiDeNTs MONey To lEave their hOmEs for HIgher grOUnD MAY seEM like a tough seLl in a red staTE. NeVertheLeSs, LOUisianA has tAkEN agGressive stePs to Advance prOgressIVe climaTE-change AdaptaTioN stRateGIeS. HOw LOuISiaNIaNs bALanCe concerNs AbOut goVernMENT OverReaCh wiTh the Needs of resideNts At riSK of LosinG theiR livElIhoodS to the Sea coUlD hold lessons thaT carRy far beyoNd tHe BayOuS as otHEr coasTal StaTes grapPle with HOw tO aDAPT tO nature’s challenges.

“it’S LIkE the ‘ThreE LittlE piGs’: yOu either BuIld A briCK House Or yoU KiLl the wolF – or movE AwAy, i guess,” sAyS RoberT TWilLey, ExecuTIve dIrectoR of the LoUisiaNA Sea Grant ColleGE Program. “I don’t KNoW HOw WE can KilL the wolf, so wE’ve gOT to bUild A BrIck HOuse. NOw, whaT dOEs THat brick house look liKe? that is The paRt that is playiNg out... right NOW In front oF our EYeS.”

nationally, partIsan bAttles rangINg from coNcernS about thE creep of sOCIalism to LacK of PolItiCAL cOnsensus on the CAUses Of Climate ChaNge have MadE it DifFicUlT “to pierce Through tO wHaT aRe ReaLly coMMon goals AnD peRsPecTives.”

tHat sinKing fEeliNg

thE EarLy arrivAL oF HUrriCaNe SeasOn wItH TropIcal sTorM Barry eArlier thiS moNTh haS uNdErscoreD the sense of urGeNcy in a statE wHerE 10,000 acres DISappear iNto the Gulf every year. LeveEIng of thE MiSsissIppi river protEctS homes And BUsinesSes, but Sends LaNd-bUILding SEDiMenT sHooting off THE coNtineNtAl shElf and iNto the deeps. SubsideNCe fRom sinking peaT boGs anD NEaRby OIl ANd gAs PUmpING adds to the problEm. Massive mArSH lOss means stORms “CoMe in harD and leaVe harD,” As Mr. BeaUlieu says.

“there’s a loT oF movING paRts, but for sTarters, aLl of southEAsterN loUisiaNa iS sinkiNg,” SayS statE climaTOloGist BArry KeIm.

alreadY a big EsCape has bEgun. Some deep bayou towns hAve losT half TheIr populatIonS OveR the past tWo deCades
, his home was safely nest led behind  a th riv ing  m arsh . To day, the Gulfi s li terally at his door.
Mr. B ea u lieu ’ spredi camenti ss h are dby  te ns of  thou san ds of L ouisianian s j ug gling rising in surance ra tes , fading pro per ty val ue s,a nd agro wingsense, as hesays, of“b e ing st u ck.”

“ I t ’s  a y oung man’s game”f ig h ting the const ant fl oo d s, h e c onc ludes. “If  t hey g a ve me e n ou g h mon e y to leave, I  would.”

T h e i dea of  o ffe r ing re siden ts mon ey to leave  the ir homesfor hi g her gro u nd mayseem l ike  atoug h  s el l i na  re d  s tat e . N everthel es s,  Loui sian a h a s ta ken  agg ressi ve steps to a dva ncep rog ressi ve cl imat e- chang e adap tatio nstrategies. How  Lou isianians  ba la nce  c oncer n s abou t g ove rnmentoverrea c h w it h t he  needs of resident sa t  r isk of l osingt he ir liveliho od s t o th e sea c ould ho ld lesso ns tha t  c ar ry farbe yond t he  ba you s aso ther  coast al state s gra p ple with how t o  adapt to nat u re ’ s  c h alle nge s.

“It’s l iket he ‘ Thre e  L itt l e Pig s’: Y ou ei t her build a brick h ou se oryou k ill the wolf– or movea w a y, I gue ss,” sa y s Robert Twill ey, e xecutive d i rector o f the  Louisia na Sea Gr a n t Colleg e P rog ram . “ I do n’t know howw e  can  k ill the  wo lf, sowe’ vegot  to  b uild a br ick hous e.  N ow ,wha t doe s  that br ic k h ou selookl ike? T hat i s th epa r t t hat isp la y i ng o ut .. . ri ght  n ow in  fro n t o f our e yes.”

Na tio n ally ,pa rtisanbattles rangi ng  from conc er nsaboutt h e creepof socialism to lack of politic alconse nsus  on the c aus es ofcli m ate ch ange h ave m ad e i t diffi c u lt  “t opierce thr o u ghto wh at  are  really  common goals andp ers pectives.”

T hat  sin k i ng  fe e li n g
Th e  ea r l y arrival of hu rricane se as o nwith Tropi c alSt orm Bar ry earl ier t h is mont h has und erscoredth e se n s e o f urgencyin a sta te where1 0,000 ac res d isa ppearin tothe G ulf ev e ryyear.  Levee in g of t he Mi ss issippiRiver protects homes an d busi nesse s,but sends  la n d-b uilding s edim ent shooti ngoff  thecon t inent al s h el f a n d int o th e  deeps. S u bs ide n c efrom sinkin g p eat  bogs  an d  nearb y oi l and gas pumping adds to the pr oble m .  Ma ssi v e ma rs h loss means s tor ms “ come inha rd and leav e hard,”  a s  Mr.Beauli eu say s.

“Th e r e’ s  a lot  ofmov ing parts , b ut for sta rt er s , allof s ou theast ern Lo u isia n a  is sinking,” sa ys st a t e cli m ato logis tBarry K e im.
Already a  big escape  has b egun . Som e deepba you to wns  h ave lost h a lf theirpopul ationsov er t hepast t wo d e c ades
, his_home was_safely nestled behind a_thriving marsh._Today,_the Gulf_is_literally at his_door.

Mr. Beaulieu’s predicament_is shared by tens_of thousands of_Louisianians_juggling rising insurance rates, fading property values, and a growing sense, as he says,_of_“being stuck.”

“It’s_a_young_man’s game” fighting the constant_floods, he concludes. “If they_gave me_enough money to leave, I would.”

The idea of_offering_residents money to_leave their homes for higher ground may seem like_a tough sell in a red_state. Nevertheless, Louisiana_has_taken_aggressive steps to advance_progressive climate-change adaptation strategies. How Louisianians_balance concerns about government overreach with_the needs of residents at risk of_losing their livelihoods to the sea_could hold lessons that carry_far beyond_the bayous as other coastal_states grapple with_how to_adapt to nature’s_challenges.

“It’s like the ‘Three Little Pigs’:_You either build_a brick house or you kill_the_wolf – or_move_away,_I guess,”_says Robert Twilley,_executive_director of_the_Louisiana Sea Grant College Program. “I_don’t_know how we can kill the wolf,_so we’ve got to_build_a brick house. Now,_what does that brick house_look like? That is the part_that is_playing out..._right now in front of our eyes.”

Nationally, partisan battles ranging from_concerns about the creep of socialism_to lack of political_consensus on_the_causes of climate_change_have made_it difficult “to pierce through to what_are really_common goals and perspectives.”

That sinking feeling

The_early arrival of hurricane_season_with Tropical Storm Barry earlier this_month has underscored the sense of_urgency in a state where_10,000_acres_disappear into the Gulf every_year. Leveeing of the Mississippi River_protects homes and_businesses, but sends land-building sediment shooting off_the_continental shelf and into the deeps._Subsidence_from sinking peat bogs and nearby_oil_and_gas pumping adds to the_problem. Massive marsh loss means storms_“come in hard and leave hard,” as Mr. Beaulieu_says.

“There’s a lot_of moving parts, but for_starters,_all_of southeastern Louisiana is sinking,” says state climatologist Barry Keim.

Already_a big_escape has begun._Some deep bayou towns have lost half their populations over_the past two decades