(Citizens for a New Louisiana) — It’s October — the time of year when one of the major networks invariably airs the 1939 classic, The Wizard of Oz. However, in Abbeville, Louisiana, the road to public utilities isn’t paved with yellow bricks. It’s lined with code violations.

At the end of that road sits Mayor Roslyn “Roz” White, who—like her cinematic namesake—rules her emerald city from behind a curtain of ordinances, inspections, and ‘activation holds.’ What once required a plumber and a payment now demands a pilgrimage through bureaucracy. And in the Land of Roz, the first thing a property owner learns is that the faucet only turns when City Hall says you’re worthy.

The City Behind the Curtain

Property owner Jay Cassidy stood in front of one of his rental homes in Abbeville, the porch light glowing behind him, recording with his cell phone. The house had power, it had a tenant, and by all accounts, it was in good condition. But the City refused to transfer the electricity into the new tenant’s name.

Cassidy filmed the encounter to show just how absurd the process had become. Speaking directly into the camera, he listed the City’s demands—his tone wavering between disbelief and dark humor:

• Install a cap on a drain—except, as he points out, the drain isn’t even on his property.
• Add a water-shutoff valve to a line that had never been disconnected.
• Trim the shrubs and trees, all of which belong to the neighbor.
• And finally, he pans to a small pile of sticks, which for many would form the basis of a compost pile —clean this up before utilities can be transferred.

“The city will not transfer our power until we pick up this small pile of sticks,” Cassidy said. “They can’t provide you with any paperwork to appeal it… Speak up, people—it might happen to you next.” In most towns, a few sticks are kindling. In Abbeville, they’re apparently grounds for administrative exile.

On October 3, 2025, the paperwork arrived, and the City issued a Code Violation Notice to JJ Cassidy Investments, LLC. Scrawled across the bottom, in red ink that might as well have been a wax seal from Oz itself, were the words:

“Utility/Water Activation Hold Due to Code Violations — utility/water services will not be activated or transferred until full compliance is achieved.”

What the Law Actually Says

Pull back the curtain and the illusion evaporates. Neither Chapter 15 (Sewers and Drains) nor Chapter 18 (Water) of Abbeville’s Code of Ordinances contains a single sentence authorizing the City to deny or delay connection over general property-maintenance issues. The only lawful reasons involve failure to pay (Section 15-29), violation of rules and regulations pertaining to water (Section 18-2), and technical violations that endanger the sewer or water system itself (Section 15-23) — for example, tampering or contamination—not property upkeep or occupancy issues.

Everything else—the vegetation, drainage, and “pile of sticks” requirements—exists solely in the imagination of the Land of Roz. Even the wizard had a rulebook; Abbeville appears to have a wish list.

Many of these things that face municipalities across the state are already covered by state law. Administrative processes can remedy dilapidated structures. Blighted properties and yards are remediated through grass and weed cutting liens. This is simply not the case. None of these situations can be seen in the video taken by Cassidy. And no reasonable person would ever consider denying a person essential services and utilities to force compliance except in the Land of Roz, where most sensible people are fleeing.

A Constitution Somewhere Over the Rainbow

Louisiana’s Article I, Section 2 guarantees that no person shall be deprived of life, liberty, or property without due process of law. Not allowing someone to use their property as intended constitutes a constructive deprivation in certain situations, so be cautious if you are looking to buy a home in Abbeville. You may be deprived of the opportunity to live in it. Article VI, Section 7 limits the powers of municipalities and requires that they remain consistent with the Constitution.

Refusing to connect water or power implicates property and liberty interests. Doing so without any hearing or judicial review flips that promise of due process on its head. Abbeville’s version of “due process” is more like a scavenger hunt: prove you’re compliant first, and maybe the City will let you live indoors. And we are not talking about privileges and luxuries. We are talking about electric and water services, something our Public Service Commission classifies as ‘essential services.’

At the October 7th, 2025 Committee Meeting of the Abbeville City Council, the City Attorney argued that the City already had authority to deny utilities under ordinances that date back to 1957. But those provisions deal only with water tampering and contamination, not with a home’s habitability. Mayor White then remarked that “we just never took the time to read our own ordinance and apply it,” effectively admitting that Abbeville reinterpreted seventy-year-old plumbing language into a modern housing-control scheme.

The City Has No Discretion in Disconnecting Utilities

The City Attorney continued saying the City has no discretion in disconnecting utilities, citing Section 18-2 which reads in part: “…service shall be cut off from the building or place of such violation (of the rules and regulations of that chapter which pertain solely to water) and shall not be turned on again except by written order of the mayor or his designee…”

Broussard went on to reference Section 18-30 – “A brass stop valve of the T head type must be installed at the curb as near as possible to the connection with the water main, with a service valve box of two and one-half (2½) inches in diameter or larger over the valve; the valve box shall be of extension type.”

Lastly, he relied on Section 6-7, catch-all language in the electrical code, for further authorization. It reads: “The owner, tenant, or occupant of each occupied residential or commercial structure, located within the corporate limits of the City of Abbeville, shall comply with all applicable provisions of this Code, including but not limited to chapters 5 (Buildings), 6 (Electrical Utility), 7 (Fire Prevention and Protection), 9 (Health), 15 (Sewers and Drains), and 18 (Water), and shall lawfully connect said structure to all available city utility systems.” But it doesn’t authorize the suspension of electric, water, or sewer service; the refusal to connect utilities; or the conditioning of connection on code compliance or inspections.

The 1957 City Ordinance Is Preempted by State Law

What the City Attorney also failed to discuss is how the 1957 City Ordinance is preempted in several respects by state law. Louisiana Revised Statute 40:1730.33 provides that when an inspection is conducted to allow occupancy or reconnect utilities, the inspector must apply the building codes that were in effect when the structure was originally permitted. Further, the law explicitly forbids inspectors from using personal discretion to decide which codes apply. Abbeville’s approach does exactly the opposite. Its unlicensed code officers apply no recognized code at all. Instead, they use vague terms like “intact” and “sufficient” to determine whether families can have water or power. In short, state law already defines the limits, and Abbeville’s ordinance ignores them.

Courts have already said what should be obvious: access to public utilities is a protected interest, not a mayoral favor. Yet Abbeville’s new proposed ordinance would codify the opposite, granting inspectors and “mayoral designees” the authority to play Wizard with the utility meter.

No Water in Munchkinland

If landlords and business owners are already hitting bureaucratic brick walls, imagine the families on fixed incomes. In the Land of Roz, poverty can constitute a violation of the building code. But perhaps that is precisely the point. Further targeting of low-income residents, something which many people have already voiced concerns over when residents were hit with thousand-dollar liens against their property.

Residents whose service is cut off for non-payment discover that paying the bill isn’t enough. When they walk into City Hall with cash or a money order, they’re told their reconnection depends on ‘bringing the property up to code.’ That might mean trimming trees, replacing a fence post, or installing a new shut-off valve—repairs they don’t own the tools or the funds to perform. Until they do, their homes remain officially ‘unfit for habitation,’ and therefore ineligible for utility services.

So people live in houses that are legal for taxation but illegal for essential utility services. It’s a paradox only government could invent: the same city that warns against unsafe, unhealthy, and unsanitary conditions creates them by policy, leaving families without water, sewage, and electricity.

From a constitutional standpoint, the distinction between refusal to connect and refusal to reconnect doesn’t matter. Both are deprivations of a basic necessity without due process. From a human standpoint, it’s worse. Denying utilities to a family already behind on bills isn’t enforcement—it’s punishment by thirst, stench, and heat exhaustion.

Or, to borrow a line from the movie The Wizard of Oz, “Some people without brains do an awful lot of talking.” In this case, the talking comes from the Mayor’s office, where the brains are optional.

Policy Overreach and Risk

The proposed Minimum Standards of Living Conditions Ordinance doesn’t fix this injustice—it formalizes it. It gives Abbeville’s unlicensed inspectors and “mayoral designees” the power to declare a property unfit for habitation and to withhold utilities until it meets arbitrary standards.

We already covered those standards being defined with words like “intact,” “sufficient,” “excessive,” and “safe means.” They read more like creative-writing prompts than legal definitions. Yet the ordinance ties those terms directly to essential utilities—water, sewer, and electricity. Compliance becomes a guessing game, and losing means darkness and thirst.

The ordinance also requires no specific training for inspectors. A determination that would ordinarily demand a structural engineer, electrician, sanitation expert, and life-safety officer may now rest with anyone the mayor designates. When the wizard appoints her minions to report and inspect alleged violations, expertise is optional.

Timely Appeal? Not Quite

Even the appeal process reads like a parody: ten days to file, thirty days for a hearing. A resident could sit forty days in a dark, waterless house waiting for the City to confirm what we innately know: this is inhumane. Due process is not a luxury feature. It is a protection from this type of insanity.

When questioned at the Committee Meeting, Public Works Director Chris Gautreaux explained that they denied service for everything from broken windows and tree limbs to cardboard in air-conditioner frames. “Who deserves to live in a house with broken windows?” he asked. “If they die in that house, that’s on the landlord’s conscience, not mine.” His statements revealed what the ordinance truly is — not a safety code, but a weapon, enforced by personal opinion rather than law. And when a resident dies on the streets because they have been made homeless by the City, who should shoulder that blame? The landlord? Or the government agent who forced them out?

When Approval Becomes Liability

There’s another irony hiding in the proposed ordinance. If Abbeville insists on tying utility service to a property’s structural, electrical, and sanitary condition, then every time the City turns on a meter, it’s certifying that the property is safe habitation. And it’s being “certified” by unlicensed and untrained personnel.

Water flow becomes a stamp of approval. Power service becomes a municipal warranty. If something goes wrong—a fire, a collapse, or a sewer backup—the City has already declared, through its own ordinance and inspection, that the structure meets minimum standards and is now assuming responsibility.

Louisiana law doesn’t reward that kind of ambition. Once a municipality undertakes a duty, it must perform it with reasonable care. By acting as a de facto building inspector without the training, credentials, or legal authority required, Abbeville isn’t reducing liability—it’s importing it by the gallon.

Even the Wizard would think twice before certifying every home in Oz as disaster-proof. Rather than abandon an unlawful practice, City Hall now wants to make it official — and that’s the real illusion worth exposing.

There’s No Place Like Home

Abbeville’s leaders speak often of ‘public health and safety.’ But no city can protect health while withholding water and sewer services. No ordinance can defend safety by cutting off electricity to occupied homes. And no mayor (wizard or otherwise) should decide who may live comfortably within the city limits.

In the end, every citizen has a stake in whether their government follows the law and respects the rights of each of us. If City Hall can deny you water today over a pile of sticks, it can deny someone else tomorrow over nothing at all. That is at the heart of what Jay Cassidy stepped forward to warn us about. And many more before him if you bother to listen.

Even members of the council seemed shaken by the actions of City Hall. Councilwoman Terry Broussard spoke through tears about a young mother and her children facing months without electricity because of $1,400 in required repairs. “Everybody doesn’t have it like that,” she said. ‘We need to enforce, but we need to have a heart.’ Her plea cut through the procedural noise — reminding everyone that ordinances written for “public safety” can quickly become policies of punishment.

The curtain may be green, but this isn’t Emerald City—it’s Abbeville, Louisiana. And the people of Abbeville deserve a city run by law, not by magic.