Waveland Denuded, Slow to Cleanup and Recover
By Cliff Kolovson
Denuded – stripped bare. The word typically refers to removing the outside or top layer of something. In Waveland, Mississippi it takes on a new meaning.
This small city on the northern shore of the Gulf of Mexico – the point of landfall for Hurricane Katrina on August 29, 2005 – has been denuded on the outside, on the inside, and through to the heart.
Yet, though almost completely bare, the soul burns to rebuild and restore. It will be a long, slow burn, requiring more than the usual Southern patience.
Drive-by pic of yards where trees and homes are mostly gone
It’s been nearly nine months since the monstrous category 5 hurricane struck the area, and it’s just a few weeks until the start of the next hurricane season. No one’s in a panic. On one hand, there’s little left to destroy. On the other, “c’est la vie,” they say, in a nod to the French heritage of the bayou region – and with a smile.
Of course, these are the brave, mostly life-long residents who are still living in Waveland. Living, smiling, looking forward to a future of rebuilding. These are the people who are around either because they just love the place so, don’t have a choice, or whose homes were not completely washed away and fully expect to rebuild. Many others surely have left for a community with a real supermarket and where the talk is not dominated of disaster and recovery.
Surely many more were seasonal residents, wealthy vacation homeowners from the big cities nearby, particularly “NaAwlens.” Sportsmen and others flocked to Waveland like Bostonians do to the Cape and Islands. They’ll be back, but not any weekend soon. You won’t see them browsing the tiny Farmer’s Market on Saturdays in the Quonset huts with booths for rent at the old City Hall Square right on the lot where city hall once stood so proudly. Prima and her sister are smiling wide selling their small supply of Gumbo which is gone well before we looked for lunch. (Prima’s gone to every city council meeting and is ready to guard against a merger with neighboring Bay St. Louis.) A half-dozen artists were early selling jewelry and cards and bird feeders and bird houses made from Katrina rubble.
Phase 2 Cleanup
We arrived on a Friday afternoon and drove the city a couple of times around to get a sense of it all. It’s not a large place, and it didn’t take long to survey Waveland as well as Bay St. Louis next door where many of the schools in the joint school district are located.
The storm ravaged the landscape and obliterated housing, blocking streets with debris, crushing houses, snapping trees – leveling the southern third of the small city, and submerging much of the northern part.
Now… after almost 9 months, the mess is mostly gone. But rebuilding is coming slowly if at all. On the beach, only one or two houses are going back up. These are big mansions. A small neighborhood of newer homes just off the beach are being remodeled, but owners are not yet back in. Further inland, some people are back in their homes, but most are still living in trailers on their front lawns.
In the business district along Highway 90 that runs east and west about 2.5 miles north of the shoreline… less than half the businesses are reopened. They were flooded for several hours with 5-10 feet of water. A new Lowe’s – which broke ground only a month after Katrina’s visit – is just taking shape and won’t open for some months. Home Depot just announced plans to build, a super market (finally) might be ready to announce it plans to locate there. The Wal-Mart is still under construction but operating at about two-thirds capacity. Building supply outlets are fiercely busy. The police department runs out of a double-wide behind where their building was – a third of the former force is all that’s left.
Not as much recovery as we’d expected.
Denuded is the land south from the railroad tracks that divide the town to the gulf’s shoreline. This sweeping strip of once-magnificent vacation shore reminds me of the southern Maine coastline of glorious white crescent beaches, stretching far into the misty air.
The scene here is eerie. There is virtually nothing… barren landscape. The trees that were left standing are mostly dead or just hanging on. A few trailers dot the area, but house lots are mostly clear except for the slab foundations. And even many of those are being broken up and piled by the street side for the Corps of Engineers to scoop up and haul off. This work goes on, seven days a week as we witnessed. Hulking trucks carrying the concrete chunks off.
There is little activity, no joy, and only an odd beauty in the now still water and mild breeze. The mix of grand old waterfront houses, bustling shops, the pier by the Veterans Memorial Park, the families and fishermen, the boats, the barbeques, the church steeples and the hordes of people enjoying the beach. All just a memory.
Denuded also describes most of the houses north of the tracks. While most still stand, These now are barren on the inside. Stripped clean of walls, flooring, furniture… right down to the studs. You drive by what at quick first glance looks like a normal house, painted, green lawn, bushes, trees… but then you notice there’s no door, no windows… and all that’s inside are sticks… studs, you see right thru.
Crowding the scene are the ubiquitous ‘FEMA trailers.’ These are not what you might think. They are NOT rectangular mobile homes. These are campers. Small, cramped, streamlined-for-the-road, short-term living quarters. At best they are okay for a two-week family vacation. This has been home for months, with no real end in sight for most of these people.
The clean up continues each day in Waveland, MS. The storm season is virtually here. Rebuilding isn’t going to begin soon. The mayor is involved at every level studying options, jockeying for opportunity and money with the Feds, the State and all the while keeping people’s spirits up even as he deals with his own family’s needs (including soccer and baseball games for his boys).
Katrina Strikes Again
Denuded also describes the heart of many people. Hurricane Katrina struck Waveland yet again while we visited last week when the St. Clare Church announced it would be closing its school to afford to rebuild the church.
We attended 8:30 am church services Sunday in the packed Quonset hut. There we met our friend and partner in our construction project (more later) Miss Melanie who graduated the church’s school as a youngster a few decades ago. The news was crushing to many we talked to outside just steps from the beach. The school will combine with two other private schools in a similar bind – forming the new Trinity School.
Denuded describes the life of people living in this disaster zone as they endure and hope to recover. Their lives are stripped down, open for all to see. They don’t have much. They have waited for insurance company decisions – at least those that had insurance. They wait for FEMA payments – those that qualify. They wait for ministerial groups to come and help. Or they make small requests to City Hall for help by volunteers who visit from around the country – like us. It comes a bit at a time, and completely haphazard. Yet, it is cherished.
Wayland Pitches In
Our small band of three Wayland guys (Tom Fay, an attorney and co-chair of the Wayland to Waveland Relief Steering Committee; Tom Galvin, a Wayland native and Police Officer; and myself, a 22-year Wayland resident and computer-driving marketing consultant) came to help in any way we could. We had a vague plan to build a small deck for 78-year-old ‘Miss Hazel’ so she can sit outside her FEMA trailer next to her gutted house.
Miss Hazel, it turns out, was out of town on vacation with her 83-year-old boyfriend, Mr. Harvey, who looks out for her. Miss Hazel was ‘adopted’ by the previous Wayland troupe that visited a few months ago. This group included three other co-chairs of Wayland to Waveland (Pam Lessor and Cindy Lombardo and Kathie Steinberg). They purchased her a patio set including a glass-topped table, two chairs and an umbrella.
Alas, the yard was quite uneven and our task was to make an area for the patio set where Miss Hazel could relax in mechanical shade to replace the now gone arching live oak and cedar trees in her yard.
We had no tools or truck and weren’t sure how we would build anything resembling a deck or patio. We got lucky first by finding the property and then by finding a wooden frame on site perfect for a deck. We also got lucky in connecting with Miss Melanie, Miss Hazel’s next-door neighbor who tapped her family for a pickup truck, power tools and more.
Another neighbor helped us level the yard with a front-end loader his contractor had let him use. We moved the old frame and repaired it. We bought new decking planks and screwed them on tight. We built her some simple steps and hand rails, and then, finally, assembled the new furniture.
On one hand, this was a great and heart-warming project. We did a few other things. And I know, just our presence there is appreciated, and makes a difference. But it doesn’t feel like it. It feels like so little is being done. The Yankee, bull-by-the-horns-doer in me wants to shout and stomp and wring a politician’s neck or something to jump start some action. It’s just not right.
But, it’s not a dread disease. It’s not going to make the evening news cycle. There is war, and corruption, and sports, and business takeovers, and new weather calamities, and volcanoes. Waveland and Katrina are last year’s news. It’s hard to get outraged at what you can’t see and what’s not being done.
What Can You Do?
First thing might be to say a prayer for these people in the coming season. Let’s hope no hurricanes come their way this year. Not even a small tropical storm.
Second is let them know they are not alone. Support the Wayland to Waveland group in its efforts to rally support from around the US to help this tiny city. It wants to fund projects like helping Miss Hazel get back into her home. It wants to help the town rebuild its Civic & Cultural Center building, it’s library. Every donation counts toward Federal and State matching grants.
Third, watch for future projects in which you might participate to help rebuild Waveland.
Finally, get angry, get frustrated. Make calls to rally support. Let your representatives know Washington is failing these people. Let them know someone is watching.