[NOTE: Karen Gadbois, who is quoted in the article and is the person behind the blog www.squanderedheritage.com, will be a panelist at Rising Tide II, August 24-26, 2007]
Katrina Survivors Face New Threat: City Demolition
Some Salvaged Homes End Up on Condemned List; Ms. Debose’s Due Process
RICK BROOKS August 9, 2007; Page A1
NEW ORLEANS — IdaBelle Joshua worked hard to take care of her two-story house in the Lower Ninth Ward, even after Hurricane Katrina flooded it up to the roof and exiled her 150 miles away.
She spent $5,000 to have the brick house gutted, $275 to clean it and then went to City Hall on July 5 to make sure 2611 Forstall St. wasn’t on a list of derelict properties here facing demolition because of storm damage. Two city employees assured her that the house was safe, she says.
Two days later, her nephew called. He had gone by to mow the lawn. But the house where Ms. Joshua and her late husband had raised three children was gone. It had been knocked down by the city. Since then, she has been trying to get an explanation, but with no luck.
“I’m a 79-year-old senior citizen, crippled and can’t travel, and I can’t pay anybody,” she says. “I will be dead and gone by the time I get any recourse from the city. It’s a travesty.”
Nearly two years after Katrina, city officials are toughening enforcement of an ordinance giving them the power to bulldoze homes and businesses that remain smashed, moldy or abandoned. Last month, the city published more than 1,700 notices filling 25 newspaper pages in the Times-Picayune. The tiny print announced that the properties had been classified as a “serious, imminent and continuing threat to the public health, safety and welfare” — and would be demolished after 30 business days.
City officials, trying to step up the struggling city’s comeback, have said they plan to flatten 10,000 hurricane-ravaged properties this year.
But the bulging list of doomed buildings includes some that weren’t damaged much by Katrina or that have already been significantly repaired — with building permits to prove it. Often, these property owners don’t even know they’re on the demolition list, because warning letters that are supposed to be mailed to them never arrive. City officials also are required to post a sign at every property on the list, but some owners say that hasn’t happened.
The result is a bewildered scramble to save historic narrow shotgun houses, Creole cottages and a hodgepodge of other buildings officially deemed unsalvagable. Owners race to City Hall, send pleas to preservationists and erect “DO NOT DEMOLISH!” signs that they hope will look convincing to bulldozer crews. For many, the effort comes on top of months spent wrestling with soaring insurance costs, searching for a building contractor and the frustrating slog of post-Katrina life in the still-devastated city.
Conspiracy theories are swirling, including the claim that tracts of land are being lined up for real-estate developers to buy on the cheap. City officials deny that, and no evidence of sweetheart deals has emerged. Still, New Orleans does have a financial incentive to speed things up: After this month, the city may have to start putting up its own money for demolitions; for now, the Federal Emergency Management Agency directly picks up all the costs. Razing a house costs $6,000 to $10,000.
“Was I supposed to get some kind of notice?” Mary Harrison said into her cellphone last week, after stepping outside the city’s housing department where she was trying to get some answers. She had heard from a neighbor that a demolition notice appeared for the house she is renovating with her husband, Donald, a prominent jazz saxophonist. It already has a new roof, and they’re working on the wiring and plumbing.
No one at City Hall could confirm that Mrs. Harrison’s house might be flattened, even when she pointed to the address on a page from the city’s Web site. Then she called FEMA, which reviews demolitions in certain historic areas. That was of no help, either. “They can’t find me on the list to take me off,” she said with a sigh.
It isn’t unusual for cities to knock down neglected properties as a last resort, and New Orleans has long gone after some of its most dilapidated housing. But the current get-tough approach, enacted by the City Council in February, streamlined the process.
“We get horror stories all the time,” says Robert Brown, president of the Preservation Resource Center, which promotes historic architecture. The group mails green “DEMOLITION ALERT” postcards to people on the demolition list, leading to frantic calls from some people who had no idea there was a problem. Karen Gadbois, who wondered why houses in her neighborhood with little damage were listed in the paper, has taken up the fight on a blog called “Squandered Heritage.” She drives around in her green Honda Element, eyeballing houses and trying to track down their owners.
Eric Oliver Person, a lawyer, says one woman he represents but wouldn’t identify claims her house in New Orleans East was knocked down by mistake. Acorn, an advocacy group, says it knows of at least three such cases.
“Of course, you’re going to have mistakes, but now it’s clear that we’ve got to slow things down,” says Stacy Head, a member of the City Council. She plans to complain about the snafus at a council meeting today.
Brenda Breaux, chief deputy city attorney, acknowledges some people have slipped through the cracks. But owners need to show they’re repairing — not just complain — to get off the list. “We don’t want to demolish anything if the owner is taking action. But the onus is on the property owner,” she says.
Michael DeZura, 37, was having lunch in Houston last month when a friend called with news that workers were disconnecting the electricity and gas lines to a brick building he owns. It is boarded up but has a new roof. The stained-glass window on the second floor, part of a traditional St. Joseph altar used by the Italian family that lived there and ran a grocery store downstairs, survived Katrina intact.
“If I didn’t know anyone who lived in the area, this building would be down,” Mr. DeZura says.
William and Shirley Colomb spent a sweltering night camping out in their Italian Renaissance Revival house in Broadmoor, which has no electricity and was inundated with 7½ feet of floodwater. The only light in the kitchen comes from two candles in a small glass.
Mrs. Colomb, 73, says they had to stay overnight after arriving June 14 to see yellow crime-scene-style tape giving demolition crews “right of entry” to the house where Mr. Colomb, 83, grew up. “I could just see a wrecking ball coming to get all this,” she says. After neighbors intervened, the Colombs were told by a FEMA employee at City Hall not to worry, she says.
For many, though, getting off the demolition list is an exercise in futility. Owners are told to object in writing, but the city hasn’t spelled out its rules for granting a reprieve — or proof a house is safe from bulldozers. Ms. Breaux says the city is about to put more information on its Web site, including a search engine so owners can keep track of their property’s status. Officials also plan to increase staffing in the City Hall department in charge of demolitions.
After $90,000 in post-Katrina repairs, the granite kitchen countertops at Chanel Debose’s house at 3519 Washington Ave. are gleaming again. Workers just scraped the front porch for a new coat of paint. But her house also wound up on the demolition list.
When the storm hit, Ms. Debose and her husband rescued about 25 people in his fishing boat before giving it away and trudging out of the city on foot. She is angry that anyone trying to save New Orleans could have so much trouble fighting city hall.
“There’s no due process here,” she says. “It’s their process.”
Write to Rick Brooks at rick.brooks@wsj.com
Common Knowledge/City-Works
www.squanderedheritage.com
www.nobrokenwindows.com
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