Rebuilding and Ripoffs for Mississippi Katrina Family
Aug. 25, 2006 — -- For the Scardinos, refugees from Katrina's fury in Pass Christian, Miss., life nowadays is measured in a constant stream of shifting numbers -- like the changing move-in dates for their newly purchased house and the rising cost of transforming a muddy, shell of a house into a home.
A year later, the family is still not fully settled, and like many survivors of Hurricane Katrina, the Scardinos find that being an initial victim of a Category 5 hurricane doesn't protect you from being a victim again.
After hiring three different contractors, the Scardinos were swindled out of roughly $3,000 and two months of time, but Michael Scardino considers himself lucky.
"My sister lost $40,000," he says. "She really got taken."
This is an all-too-common story for people trying to piece together their lives together on the Gulf Coast. There is a very a high demand for reliable and competent contractors, and those who did stay are often completely overworked.
The shortage of contractors has gotten so bad that people like Michael Scardino have knowingly turned to unlicensed contractors to get their houses built.
"There just comes a time where you do what you have to do to get things done," Scardino explains.
Sometimes, however, things aren't done correctly, as the Scardinos know all too well, and the expenses keep piling up. Even with FEMA money, his own insurance money and the roughly $12,000 his employer and co-workers raised for his family, he finds that he has already spent about $100,000 out of pocket to rebuild a home once owned by another Katrina victim.
"You never forget Katrina," he says. "It's a new house, but a house that has mud everywhere and corrosion from salt and water. It's always there in the back of your mind, no matter where you go."
Home Is Where the Heart Is
Last Thursday the Scardinos made their way back to Pass Christian -- or the Pass, as locals call it. It was their monthly visit to the house to look at the neighborhood. This time Mike Scardino mowed the lawn for the first time in a year.
Their Pass Christian home stands pretty much the same as it was after Katrina engulfed the house with 9-foot waves, leaving an indelible water line on the walls of the Scardinos' home.
Now, the rebuilding of the home is engulfed in bureaucratic red tape -- caught somewhere in the triangle of a small business loan that the Scardinos applied for and got (but which "came with too many strings attached"), a local historical society's insistence that the house be restored to it's original specifications, and a grant that the Scardinos are waiting to hear back about. And the waiting game continues.
The roads in Pass Christian are now clear of the debris that made driving through the city an adventure. But nothing has really changed in the past year, with the exception of two homes making a desperate comeback in a sea of flatness.
"Of the 10,000 people here before the storm, I'd say there are now 2,500 left," Scardino estimates. "But the Pass is still the Pass. In 1969, during [Hurricane] Camille, the same thing happened. But people will never leave. It's home."
Yet the eyes of Scardino's wife, Annie, still well up occasionally, and her head shakes in disbelief knowing that where a neighborhood once stood, there is nary but a neighbor or two in sight to talk to -- or to just wave hello to.
Normalcy in Baby Steps
Outside the Pass are signs of measurable recovery. Instead of making the 40-minute drive to the Gulfport Home Depot to get building supplies, Scardino is excited about the new Lowe's in Waveland that opened up a few miles from Rannie Ladner's Karate Studio where he, Annie, and their three kids still live.
They upgraded from their 600-square-foot studio apartment to a two-bedroom apartment directly downstairs from Rannie's apartment earlier this year. It's a bit more spacious, but Scardino points out, "When you got three high-strung kids stuck in a room together, there are bound to be some flare-ups."
The Scardinos estimate that they will be in their new home, which is 20 miles away from their home in Pass Christian, come September.
As for the kids, they started school last Thursday and have adjusted fine. Scardino seems to think that it's the adults who have the more difficult time adjusting. It can be a full-time job for a parent, he says, "just getting used to the new schools and schedules."
And focusing on parenting and home is what Annie Scardino has decided to do, for the time being. Before Katrina, she worked part-time as a registered nurse, commuting to Louisiana. When Hurricane Katrina hit and destroyed the clinic where she worked, she was out of her part-time job as a nurse and thrust into her new full-time role as parent and "foreman" -- keeping track of all the various contractors who have been going in and out of the Scardinos future home in Kiln. All that is left to complete is the cabinets and the plumbing.
As for Michael Scardino, his job as a casino slot machine salesman is picking up again. The casinos are making a strong comeback in the Gulf Coast area. He is back to his normal territory of Mississippi and southern Louisiana, and of the 52 casinos that were open previously in his region, the total number of casinos back in business is 42, with three new casinos opening this week.
"Business has been great," he says excitedly. "I'm on the road a lot."
But the enthusiasm in his voice quickly trails off.
"I'd rather be home with Annie and the kids though … helping out," he says.
He is heartened by the progress in the area, however small and slow it may seem.
"People are coming back," he says. "We'll build our old house back in the Pass to where it was … eventually."
Like so many Katrina survivors, the Scardinos live in a reality of qualifiers and optimistic uncertainty. Yet a year later, some of the other players may have changed, but the Scardinos are still in the waiting game. It's a game that the Scardinos still find themselves playing a lot.