Rita, 'The forgotten disaster'
Slow-going recovery in Texas makes survivors feel left behind May 17, 2007 By Matt Hackworth
Hi-res photos to accompany this story are available at: www.churchworldservice.org/media/hires.html
Port Arthur, TX -- The plumber walked into Randy and Bonita Smith's living room with an unabashed smile on his face, knowing he was the bearer of good news.
"We'll have you serviceable by tonight," Mark Trahan said. "You'l l have a hot shower, a working toilet, everything."
The Smiths swooned on their couch in relief. Since Hurricane Rita struck Sept. 24, 2005, the Smiths have purchased all their water from a nearby store. They have endured more than 600 days without a working toilet in their home, while a leaky roof fed persistent mold on the white stucco walls of their well-kept living room. Finally, on a sunny southeast Texas Wednesday May 2, 2007, plumbing trucks in their driveway marked the beginning of the end of the Smiths' hurricane ordeal.
"That feels like someone just handed us a million dollars," Bonita told the plumber.
It's actually a much more modest sum -- $7,500 paid to contractors by long-term Church World Service recovery partner, South East Texas Interfaith Organization (SETIO). In a third round of grants to long-term recovery organizations, around $1.8 million funded by Habitat For Humanity International will help 252 families repair their homes along the Gulf Coast.
Long-term recovery organizations bring together citizens, community groups, and social services agencies that can identify and address cases of need. SETIO formed in the days following Hurricane Rita, and is helping the Smiths and 19,000 others affected by the storm in Jefferson, Hardin, and Orange counties return to normalcy.
âThe forgotten disaster'
Randy and Bonita Smith joined the exodus leaving Port Arthur as Hurricane Rita approached. They rode out the storm and its aftermath with a relative in Dallas, and eventually returned to their pink home just blocks from the Intracoastal Waterway. "It wasn't the same house we left," Randy Smith said. "It wasn't even the same neighborhood. We couldn't do anything but just cry."
Overflowing sewers sent effluent back into the Smiths' home through virtually every drain. Persistent leaks under the home, invisible to anyone with limited mobility, eventually totaled a $900 water bill from the city. Randy Smith says his home, like many in his neighborhood, is owner financed by a relative, which meant he had no insurance and limited emergency federal benefits.
Both mother and son are disabled, on fixed incomes. They eventually found ways to cope, such as bathing out of a bucket and attacking mold with bleach. "The mold was so bad it'd burn your nose," Bonita Smith recalls.
Unmet cases of need such as the Smiths' are plentiful along the Gulf Coast -- ill-begotten reminders of the deadliest hurricanes in U.S. history. Government and philanthropic sources have spent billions of dollars on relief and recovery. Yet those who live and work in Hurricane Rita's disaster area are starting to feel left behind.
"There are people who think we've finally recovered from Hurricane Rita in southeast Texas," said the Rev. Harland Merriam, a Presbyterian minister working with SETIO. "But we know there are many who have not. For every one who has recovered there are five or 10 more who have not."
At least 1,600 families still live in travel trailers made available by the Federal Emergency Management Agency. Some 475,000 families sought assistance from FEMA after the storm, and thousands of cases remain open.
Many in Texas are pinning their hopes to $428 million in state-controlled federal money for long-term recovery. While those funds have been mired in bureaucracy, long-term recovery groups are looking to granting organizations such as CWS for help with their most critical cases.
"I get calls every day from people literally crying on the phone," said Stephanie Lundgreen of the United Methodist Committee on Relief's Rita Recovery project. "They say God forgot about them because it's still raining in their house. "It's easy to forget about long-term recovery when you finally have a roof over your own head," Lundgreen added.
The long haul
FEMA will soon begin scaling back its presence in southeast Texas, transferring staff and resources from its Beaumont, Texas, office. As doors to federal assistance and resources gradually close, long-term recovery groups will become the de facto benefactors to thousands of families still coping with the storm's effects.
National Emergency Grants, which have helped several long-term recovery groups in southeast Texas, are about to expire, as are disaster-based social security grants to survivors. Waning federal help adds a palpable sense of urgency to those trying to sustain long-term recovery groups.
"We have little to no funds," said Amber Smith, an American Red Cross worker trying to keep her long-term recovery group operating in Sabine Pass, which sustained Rita's fiercest winds.
Funding for case management is critical, as those who oversee a case -- from its identification to its completion -- are critical to effective long-term recovery. Even if recovery groups can use volunteers for labor the organizations still need funds to purchase supplies and maintain an office.
"We have an old Baptist preacher and myself trying to put together volunteers, case managers and construction managers, with just hustle and time," Sabine Pass' Adam Saunders added. "It's not a pretty sight. We need renewed hope."
Hope renewed
In Port Arthur, SETIO is one of the most established long-term recovery groups in the state. It has received significant help from non-profit and governmental agencies, including more than $130,000 to help with cases like the Smiths' in the latest round of CWS grants.
With his water on and a new roof on the way, Randy Smith is enthusiastic about his home, which he purchased in 2001. It's the first home his family has ever owned. Smith has defied medical experts by learning to walk again. Paralyzed since 1992, he's been working his way out of a wheelchair ever since, even while coping with storm damage.
"It's been hard," Randy admits. "Day by day living is difficult." Even though Randy's numb legs mean a task as simple as putting on shoes can yield broken toes, he's been taking his family's troubles in stride. He's taking courses to become a real estate agent as part of a disability-to-work program. "Real estate's always been a dream of mine," he says. "I just like putting people in houses."
SETIO has 264 families who own their own homes but need a little extra help recovering from Hurricane Rita. For Randy Smith, a home will provide stability -- and hope -- as he enters the job market for the first time since his injury 15 years ago.
Matt Hackworth is a communications officer for Church World Service
Related story: The forgotten of the forgotten
Media Contacts: Lesley Crosson, CWS/New York, 212-870-2676; lcrosson@churchworldservice.org Jan Dragin (24/7), 781-925-1526; jdragin@gis.net