Government Street
- Samantha Morgan
- Apr 4
- 5 min read

There are those who travel to downtown Baton Rouge by car, those who take public transportation, and those who ride bikes. Many believe the last group is responsible for the four-lane road being reduced to three—an opinion that has sparked some seriously heated debates.
“The needs of the many were sacrificed for the wants of a few. We have an antiquated interstate, no inner loop around the city, and far too much congestion leaving downtown each evening. What’s the solution? Obstruct one of the few routes out of the city to make traffic worse. Next, they should close a lane of outgoing traffic on the interstate for a meandering farmers market and craft booths!”
That Facebook comment, posted in 2021, was just one of many expressing a similar sentiment.

But according to Gordon Mese, that thinking misses the point.
“The idea to do this has absolutely nothing to do with bicycles. Zero,” Mese explains. “It’s [the Government Street project] about all kinds of other things—and the last thing it was about was bicycles. Think about it: if it were really about the bicycle community, there would be more to protect cyclists than a thin white line of paint.”
Mese is quick to say he wasn’t responsible for making the project happen—but he was, and remains, one of its loudest champions. In fact, he pitched the idea of converting it into a three-lane road nearly twenty years ago—long before the phrase “road diet” became common.
“Nobody really knows the whole story, because not many people are interested in hearing it,” he said. “People don’t look beyond their nose, and I gave up trying to explain the engineering behind why and how it works. People understand money.”
So I got him to tell me the whole story—from beginning to end—as seen from his side of the street. Literally.
Mese grew up in the neighborhood behind Government Street. As a kid, he’d help his grandfather at the Esso gas station his family owned.
“We pumped gas, washed cars, did everything,” Mese recalled. “When it rained, me and my brothers would set up a bench on the curb to watch the accidents—we knew there’d be one. Then we’d tell the police what happened.”
After graduating from LSU with a degree in landscape architecture, Mese opened Garden District Nursery—right next door to that same street corner.
“I did this for very selfish reasons—my business,” he said. “The whole thing, for me, was: how can I slow traffic so people will notice my business?”
That concern was shared by other business owners in the area.
“The state of Government Street was something Mid City Merchants addressed from our founding in 1993,” said Mary Ann Caffery during a 2003 press conference. “I have minutes from board meetings where this was the only topic discussed.”
Why does one road require so much attention? A look into Baton Rouge’s history offers clues. Government Street has long been a central corridor and played a pivotal role in the city’s expansion.
“In 1908, when Governor Sanders was inaugurated, he personally oversaw the extension of Government Street,” Caffery noted in her speech. “He said this road would be the model for all roads in the state. In fact, it was almost named Model Road.”
Through the years, Government Street powered the local economy, hosting major retailers and small shops alike. But like many American cities, the inner city began to decline during the 1980s.
“Perception is reality,” Mese said. “People saw broken curbs and weeds and assumed Government Street was dangerous. It wasn’t—it was just ugly.”
Big-box retailers left, but many local business owners, including Mese, stayed. They knew revitalization would require effort—and a new approach.
“My neighbor—an older, smart guy—read an article about three-laning streets and said Government could be a grand boulevard: trees, wide 15-foot lanes,” Mese said. “I wasn’t sold on the trees, but the three-lane idea was interesting.”
His degree in landscape architecture, from the nation’s top-ranked program, gave Mese a planner’s insight.
“My job is to find lost space and use it,” he explained. “I saw those big lanes as dangerous. If we reduced lane size, drivers would slow down. The bike lanes were added not for bikes—but to slow bad drivers.”
He pitched the idea at a public meeting in Bernard Terrace.
“They asked the public for ideas, so I submitted mine—sarcastically,” Mese laughed. “I wrote, ‘Sorry none of the bubbas are going to make money—it’s just restriping.’”
The idea was casually mentioned to a reporter, made it into the newspaper, and that set things in motion.
“Baton Rouge General was backing Mid City Redevelopment, trying to stop mid-city decay,” Mese explained. “Perry Franklin saw the article and dug into it. Research showed it could work. That’s when the project got support.”
Still, the plan stalled repeatedly. So, in 2012, Mese ran for mayor—just to get people talking.
“It had been 16 years, and the plan had already been vetted and added to FutureBR. World-renowned planners said it was solid,” he said. “But I was tired of waiting, and the mayoral race was just career politicians. So I ran to start a real conversation.”
He ran with no party and came in third. Kip Holden won. But about six months later, Holden announced the Government Street plan would move forward.
The project, dubbed a "road diet," didn’t sit well with everyone.

“Though the concept has won plaudits in many circles, it’s also generating opposition from community groups who think the city’s intentionally making it miserable to drive,” wrote Andrew Keatts in a 2015 Rice Kinder Institute article. “But as far as the federal government is concerned, road diets work.”
Construction began in February 2018. More than two years later, the first cyclist rode the new lanes.
“The wheels of government are slow—and sometimes that’s a good thing,” Mese said. “It keeps rash decisions in check. I just submitted an idea. I got the ball rolling. But this was never ‘my project.’”
Unfortunately, Mese’s business didn’t get to enjoy the benefits. Before the section near his shop was completed, he announced its closure on January 30, 2020.
“This February marks 34 years for the Garden District Nursery and 91 years of my family working this property... I had to come to terms with my health. The nursery served its purpose. Now it’s time for the next vision.”
Another nursery moved in, but it has since closed. The old Esso station, however, now serves tacos as part of the popular Barracuda restaurant group.
Since its completion, Government Street has seen a burst of life. A Strong Towns article by Jake Polansky noted that business tax revenue along the corridor has grown 26% faster than the citywide average.
More cars use the road now—but accident rates have been cut in half. And new businesses keep coming, creating a vibe reminiscent of Magazine Street in New Orleans.
Still, challenges remain. Cyclists say the thin, unprotected bike lanes don’t feel safe. The posted speed limit—still 40 mph in places—only adds to that discomfort. Worse, the bike lane disappears at two key intersections, breaking the flow and the vision.
Even so, the project proved something important: removing lanes doesn't mean removing life from a city. In fact, it can help a city thrive in new and exciting ways.
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