My guest columnist, Emily Patricia
Graham, is a Clearwater, Florida - based attorney (practicing in Louisiana and
California as well). Past Chair of the Florida Bar’s Entertainment,
Arts, & Sports Law Section, an LL.M. in Real Property Development Law, and
well published, Emily’s work with the Greater Miami Chapter of the American
Civil Liberties Union of Florida moved her to write on this topic.
Now, y’all can get gumbo in
Florida, but not like this. Yes, I’m in Baton Rouge, Louisiana. I was one of
the lucky ones who could evacuate from Irma. Heard that the lights in my home
came back on Tuesday after the big storm, and thank God there was no damage. By
the time Hurricane Irma reached Tampa Bay, she was a category 1. This was good
news for many Floridians who live in newer buildings or who could evacuate, but
there are still many Floridians who are struggling with issues such as
flooding, returning home, power and related health issues. And the heat. Does
it make you angry that some people are using Irma as a chance to travel while
others are stranded living in shelters with the roofs of their homes blown off?
Dare I say, shouldn’t it?
Jennifer Kay, of The Washington Post wrote
on September 7, 2017, “In Andrew’s wake [that huge 1992 Florida Hurricane],
Florida mandated the most stringent building codes in the U.S. Since 2001,
structures statewide must be built to withstand winds of 111 mph (178 kph) and
up. The Miami
area has even higher requirements.” Some newer buildings, including
one with a singular car elevator, even claim to be category 5 resistant, with
windows that are one inch thick. The Real Deal, September 6th. These buildings are able
to withstand a cannon firing a 2x4 timber directly aimed at the center of the
pane.
However, the current building
codes do not apply to older buildings in Florida; there are lots of older
buildings, especially in the least affluent neighborhoods. Many people don’t
live in or can’t afford to live in these usually-more expensive,
hurricane-proof buildings. In fact, according to a September 9th article
in Quartz, 50% to 75%
of the homes in Southern Florida, including Miami-Dade and Collier County are
still not required to comply with that updated building code.
Not only are wealthier
Floridians more likely to live in hurricane-proofed buildings, some with
hurricane shutters, they also can afford the plywood to board up windows (or
hire someone to do that for them), they have the money to stock up with food,
some even have back-up generators or solar power, and, best of all, they can
afford to leave until their neighborhood recovers while avoiding nasty
shelters. Second home or hotel far away, anyone?
For those living in low income
areas, it’s not so nice. In Miami’s Liberty City, where the Academy Award
winning “Moonlight” was filmed, they had no other option but to brave the storm
in dangerously unfortified homes. “‘I know what I need to do,’
[local resident, Michael] McGoogan said. ‘If the windows start smashing, I’m
going to put my mattress up against them and if that don’t work, I’m going to
hide in the bathroom,’” as reported on September 9th in The Guardian. At least he
had a place.
The homeless? Most wouldn’t
stand a chance outside in a category 4 hurricane without shelter. Police
officers and homeless advocacy organizations got the word out about the storm
to those living on the streets. “‘We’re going out and every single homeless
person who is unwilling to come off the street, we are likely going to
involuntarily Baker Act them,’ Ron Book, chairman of the Miami-Dade Homeless
Trust, told ABC News, on
September 8, referring to law enforcement’s ability to institutionalize those
who are a danger to themselves or others [for up to 72 hours]. As of [that]
Friday afternoon, officers had detained at least 6 people.”
Irma made no promises –
weather never does – but it didn’t look good. By looking at Irma’s size alone,
she could eat former-big-guy-Florida Hurricane Andrew (1992) alive. Andrew
spurred big changes in local building codes. The Lady Irma barreled through
Antigua and Barbuda, leaving utter devastation in her wake. It seems that the
poorer the country – and the Caribbean is heavily laden with poverty – the more
obvious and terrible the devastation. And next, she was aiming straight for
Miami. Families on Miami Beach evacuated. They said it was a harrowing drive
north, through the worst traffic they’d ever seen on I-75. Even worse than Los
Angeles during rush hour!
In Tampa Bay, I held tight and
looked at flights-out every day, but could not leave my parents who lived
close-by. They would need my help if they stayed or even if they chose to
leave. Like many Floridians, my father was hell-bent on working till the last
day before the hurricane warning, hoping that Irma would stay out of Tampa
Bay’s cross-hairs. Many people in Florida are required to work until a
Hurricane warning is issued and by then it is often too late to evacuate.
Plane tickets became
increasingly scarce, and exploded to ten times the normal price. By Thursday night,
more than two days before the storm began to hit Florida, there were no more
regional plane tickets to be had. Florida’s Attorney General Pam Bondi gave a
speech earlier that day thanking some airline companies for capping the cost of
tickets to leave Florida at $99. Those tickets were nonexistent. Rather
airlines were cancelling flights and the airports were shutting down early on
Friday. At the same time, the wealthy had purchased $14,000 Jetsmarter “Uber of
private jets” tickets, according to the Miami New Times on
September 8.
Gasmageddon was real for those
of us driving to get out of Dodge. From then on till Gainesville, there was not
one gas station with fuel. We had not seen a single gasoline tanker on the road
going in any direction. The hotels were all booked. The fear of getting
stranded on the road during hurricane force winds was palpable. Thanks to the
widely-used GasBuddy app, we were able to find a rare gas station that still
had a trickle left.
Not everyone in the estimated
6.3 million people Florida’s Division of Emergency Management ordered to
evacuate, as reported by CNN on September
9, could even get out. Still, many people were stranded by work those
commitments or simply by not being able to afford a car.
Certain municipal employees
are bound to work through the hurricane. Four public works employees in Largo,
a city in Tampa Bay, lost their jobs for staying home with their families
during the hurricane, as reported in the Tampa Bay Times on September
21, 2017.
Eugene Johnson, whose only
source of income is his Social Security check, told NPR on
September 8, before the storm that he was “just hoping his supply of a few cans
of tuna, the bread and the water a friend is supposed to bring him will help
get him through the storm… ‘I'm alright with my medicine and stuff,’ said
Johnson. ‘So the main thing I'm worrying about is surviving.’”
Now, after the storm, those
in modern buildings are fine, even though some didn’t get power back for over a
week and some bottom floors are still flooded in the wealthy downtown area of
Brickell. Most of the lucky ones who evacuated have navigated logistics of how
to make their way back through another gasmageddon. The largest power company
in Florida, Florida Power and Lighting provides a map of outages at its FPL Power Tracker. As of September 22nd, over 1,000 people and businesses in Southwest
Florida, mainly in the Naples area, still don’t have power. And man is it hot… blazing… with Florida
humidity. No AC. No fans. No water. No ice. With all that water sitting around…
Some of the most vulnerable
who weathered the storm are in Immokalee. On September 12 the LA Times reported; “Roofs
were blown off many of the trailer homes and ill-constructed shacks that pass
as housing here for the multitudes of farmworkers, mostly from Central America
and Mexico, but with a considerable contingent from Haiti. Pools of water from
the hurricane still were found on streets and front yards.”
In
some places, even the affluent weren’t spared. Strangely, there is a similar
problem with flooding in Brickell, an affluent professional area just south of
downtown Miami. The lower and middle Florida Keys, where even trailer homes are
expensive, were devastated by the strongest strike on the country.
In
addition, for those who are older or have medical conditions, inconvenience for
most becomes life-threatening to them. Like those who depend on power for
complicated life-saving medical assistance (like those who require dialysis or
oxygen) or people for whom sweltering Florida heat can fatal. As of September
22, 10 people living in a nursing home perished due to the heat when air
conditioning was cut off; a civil lawsuit and a criminal investigation are
pending, while the nursing home has been shut down by state regulators,
according to USA Today
on September 22. A friend called me frantically about a disabled family member
who required power for a home-respirator. The home generator didn’t work and
the family member was brought to a hospital. However, the attending physician
threatened to discharge the family member, knowing fully well that there was
nowhere with power to go. “That isn’t my problem,” the physician said.
But
here wasn’t just bad news. Chris Morris, writing on September 14 for Fortune,
says that there were also stories of great generosity. Tragedy can bring out
the best of us. A millionaire opened his family home to 70 foster children and
set up a GoFundMe page to rebuild their foster home. Patch
on September 14 reported that the Clearwater Police Department showed up at 94
year-old Betty Helmuth’s door with water, food, and flashlights, after her
daughter had called the police to check up on her.
An article in the September
8 Miami New Times tells
of a cat lover rescued 40 strays, turning her home into an “animal hostel.” And
if all else fails, there was always a place for people at a Pasco nudist
resort, as reported in the Tampa Bay Times on
September 8.
Floridians are known to joke
about hurricanes. This is not to say that we make light of a serious situation.
We’re concerned. We’ve seen the “future maps” with the bottom third of the
state under water. We don’t like what we see and don’t particularly know what
to do, but... We just have to look at the Keys (top photo above) and
Brickell.
By the time Irma struck the
mainland, winds were reduced. Most people who needed to evacuate, but could
not, did not merely face an inconvenience; they faced weathering deadly storm,
some in poorly built homes, and some without even a place to stay for the
night… many stranded on the road with no gas. These are not merely nasty
discomforts for the poor or middle class inconveniences. They are real dangers
to life and limb that both the poor and working middle class Floridians had to
the face, where the wealthy were vastly better-prepared for whatever the storm
would bring. We will rebuild, but what have we really learned? About nature?
About building codes? About the future risks? But really, about ourselves?
As of the time of this blog
update on September 22, while Florida is on the path to recovery, the damage
and destruction from another category 4 hurricane, Hurricane Maria, is fresh in
Puerto Rico and other areas in the Caribbean already ravaged by Irma. CNN reported on
September 21 that Puerto Rico’s governor stated the island may be without power
for up to six months. The contrast is stark. We can and do live in areas prone
to different natural disasters, but this shows us that, in order for society to
function and survive foreseeable environmental stress tests, everyone must have
access to strict building codes and updated power grids.
I’m Emily Graham and if Florida is a
paradise, Irma just showed the world how the poorest members of any society
always suffer the most but also that kindness that can exist in extraordinary
situations… reflecting that we really can be civil and caring for each other…
every day if we want to.
* * *
Peter Dekom adds this postscript, an excerpt
from a Forbes article (9/13) Ms. Graham sent me after her contribution. A tough
reality: “In the coming weeks, property owners will be scrambling to assess the
full scope of the damage. Those lucky enough to have insurance will likely
begin rebuilding. The unlucky uninsured might sell their land and leave, and
wealthier entrants are sure to jump on the opportunity to buy beachfront
property on this coveted strip.
“There is just one problem in this zeal to redevelop the
islands: The Next Storm. The Keys—like much of south Florida’s waterfront—are
sitting ducks. They have been ravaged in the past by major storms, and will be
flattened again with greater frequency in the future. They are not meant to be
an axle of human habitation. In short, the Keys should not be rebuilt.
“A micro-illustration of the folly of
developing the barrier islands comes from the tale of tiny Dauphin Island off
the coast of Alabama. The island is home to 1300 residents and many tourist
rental houses. It has been rattled by nearly a dozen hurricanes since 1979.
Each time, the government pays the bulk of the reconstruction, a serial money
burning enterprise that already cost over $150 million.” Many of these
properties cannot generate a mortgage or qualify for insurance coverage.
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