NEW ORLEANS — In Mount Pleasant, N.C., a small town 25 miles east of Charlotte, shuttered textile mills stand as relics of a bygone industrial era. Local officials had pinned hopes on federal funding to revitalize the community, envisioning a renovated historic theater and new businesses to spur the rural economy. Central to their plan was a $4 million grant from the Federal Emergency Management Agency’s Building Resilient Infrastructure and Communities (BRIC) program, intended to improve stormwater drainage and secure electrical lines against natural disasters.
But this month, FEMA abruptly terminated the BRIC program, canceling $3.6 billion in funding for Mount Pleasant and hundreds of communities nationwide. The decision has derailed years of planning, leaving local leaders scrambling.
“This was a generational investment in infrastructure to secure our future for a century,” said Erin Burris, Mount Pleasant’s assistant town manager. “It just vanished.”
The BRIC program, established in 2020 during the Trump administration, aimed to proactively strengthen communities against climate-driven disasters. Projects ranged from fortifying electrical grids in hurricane-prone Louisiana to relocating residents from floodplains in Pennsylvania and safeguarding water supplies in Oklahoma’s Tornado Alley. FEMA’s decision to end the program, which the agency called “wasteful” and “politicized,” has sparked outrage, particularly in disaster-prone, often Republican-leaning regions.
A Blow to Disaster-Prone Regions
The cancellation affects communities across the political spectrum, but many are in Republican-dominated states frequently battered by extreme weather. Since 2011, 95% of Americans have lived in counties hit by federally declared weather disasters, according to Amy Chester, director of Rebuild by Design, a nonprofit focused on disaster resilience.
“BRIC told communities, ‘We’ll help you prepare,’” Chester said. “Cutting this funding essentially tells Americans their suffering is acceptable.”
In Louisiana, Lafourche Parish President Archie Chaisson, a Republican, had secured $20 million to replace wooden electrical poles with steel and reduce skyrocketing home insurance costs. The parish, where 80% of voters backed President Donald J. Trump in November, has endured over a dozen federally declared disasters since 2011 and received more federal disaster aid per capita than any other state.
Chaisson supports streamlining federal agencies but insists disaster prevention funding must continue. “These programs make our communities more resilient, no matter your politics,” he said. A 2024 U.S. Chamber of Commerce study bolsters his case, finding that every $1 spent on disaster preparation saves $13 in damages and cleanup costs.
Criticism and Political Divide
FEMA’s move has drawn sharp criticism, though reactions split along party lines. Louisiana’s senior U.S. senator, Bill Cassidy, a Republican, called BRIC’s cancellation a mistake on the Senate floor, noting that $185 million in planned funding for his state was lost. “This isn’t waste,” Cassidy said. “It’s a lifesaver and a cost-saver.”
Democratic officials have been more vocal. Twenty-two mostly Democratic-led states and Washington, D.C., have sued to restore the obligated funds, including $50 million for a water treatment facility in Grants Pass, Ore. The facility, meant to protect drinking water for 60,000 people, is critical to prevent economic collapse if flooding disrupts supply, said Jason Canady, the city’s public works director.
In Stillwater, Okla., Mayor Will Joyce spent two years securing BRIC funds to overhaul a 36-mile water pipeline serving 100,000 people, vulnerable to tornadoes and floods. Without federal support, Joyce said, water rates may double to cover costs. “We can’t just hope disaster doesn’t strike,” he said.
FEMA said the $3.6 billion in BRIC funds would be redirected to the federal Disaster Relief Fund for response and recovery, with $882 million returned to the U.S. Treasury or reallocated by Congress. The agency declined to comment further.
Local Impact and Uncertainty
In Mount Pleasant, the loss of funding has left residents like Whit Moose, a fourth-generation pharmacy owner, disheartened. “It was going to be transformative,” he said. Yet many locals, unaware of the cuts, support Trump’s push to shrink government, assuming reductions target bureaucracy or unrelated programs, said Jim Quick, vice chairman of the Cabarrus County Republican Party.
Burris, the assistant town manager, fears unchecked flooding could devastate downtown. She points to a single utility pole—nicknamed Atlas, after the Greek god bearing the world’s weight—that supports electricity, internet, and telecommunications for the town’s 1,700 residents. “This is a special community that deserves better,” she said, her voice breaking. “There’s nothing political about helping a small town with stormwater flooding.”
As communities grapple with the fallout, the cancellation raises broader questions about balancing fiscal restraint with the growing costs of climate-driven disasters. For now, towns like Mount Pleasant must start over, their resilience hanging in the balance.
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Brook is a corps member for The Associated Press/Report for America Statehouse News Initiative. Report for America is a nonprofit national service program that places journalists in local newsrooms to report on undercovered issues.
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Follow Brook on the social platform X at @jack_brook96.
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