Lost and forgotten communities of the Gulf

During the one-year anniversary of Hurricane Katrina, national attention was focused on the continuing disaster in New Orleans, and rightfully so. But there are other communities along the Gulf Coast that, relative to their size, suffered similar devastation (thankfully without loss of life on the scale of New Orleans) and are enduring similar struggles to rebuild.

One such forgotten community is Bayou La Batre, Alabama:

The sleepy fishing village on the southern tip of Mobile County still bears Katrina's scars. More than 700 Mobile County families still are living in trailers issued by the Federal Emergency Management Agency, almost half of them in the Bayou and in neighboring Coden.

Daughtry's neighborhood resembles a makeshift trailer park, as FEMA trailers sit outside houses in various states of repair or disrepair.

"I know FEMA's in a hurry to get the trailers out. I'm like, `Why?'" said Tommy Reynoso, Bayou La Batre's busy building inspector.

Rebuilding has been slow. Reynoso estimated that more than 80 percent of the damaged houses weren't insured. Daughtry's wasn't. Many were built in the 1940s and were passed down from generation to generation without mortgages that mandate insurance.

Also complicating matters is the high number of rental properties - about one-third of the city's 769 housing units are renter-occupied, according to the 2000 census - that landlords might or might not be interested in repairing.

Well, at least they have FEMA trailers. Otherwise, the housing situation is similar to the situation in New Orleans. The article says bulldozers are ready to roll, with plans to demolish unsafe structures in the fall. Apartment buildings are needed for former renters, but the town's sewer system isn't up to the task. There are also concerns about the character of the reconstruction:

Cheap shrimp from Asia and expensive diesel fuel have taken an economic toll on the area's seafood industry. After the blow from Katrina, some have suggested Bayou La Batre's future lies in tourism.

Developer Tim James, the son of former Gov. Fob James, in 2005 proposed a $200 million plan to turn Bayou La Batre into an upscale waterfront village of condos, spas and trendy shops on cobblestone streets.

The proposal has brought controversy. Some see it as the Bayou's economic savior; others say it would drive out the seafood industry that is the bayou's heritage.

Add to all these woes the fact that many homes were uninsured and that people are borrowing money to rebuild them but are unable to get insurance, and you have a microcosm of New Orleans. And, similar to New Orleans, they aren't getting much help from the federal government. Like many other communities around the Gulf, the town is relying on the kindness of strangers:

The pile of rubble that used to be the widow's house has been hauled away. A crew arranged by Volunteers of America is building her a new house, installing the finishing touches of beige carpet, fresh tan paint and new vinyl tile.

[..]

Katrina washed 23 boats into the woods, including a barge loaded with cars.

A project to remove the stranded boats began in July after the city received $1.6 million from the Bush-Clinton Relief Fund. Jones said the city hopes to have all the vessels removed by September.

[..]

For now, the Bayou La Batre Church of Christ each week hands out 800 brown paper grocery sacks filled with food and household items. A sign on the church's door asks recipients to return the empty bags because the church is running out of them.

Despite all of this, the people of Bayou la Batre maintain a remarkably positive outlook:

Don't feel sorry for the Bayou, [Francis Johnson] says, when Katrina killed people in Mississippi and Louisiana.

"We're just blessed we didn't lose anybody that we love. Nobody got hurt, so we're good, in my opinion."

These people, and all the other residents of the Gulf Coast, deserve the best America can do to help them. They don't need any more committees or hearings or political speeches or staged photo opportunities. They need real national leadership.

(By way of Red State Diaries)