BRADENTON HERALDAugust 13, 2006
Charity struggles after Charley NOCATEE - She was there to weave in and out of rocky roads and narrow streets, to bring relief to migrant farmworkers when they needed it most. "Don't be afraid to come out for help," Sister Ann DeNicolo, with Catholic Charities of DeSoto County, would shout through a megaphone. She urged the migrants not to hide from the uniformed FEMA officials they thought were immigration officers. Two years have passed since Hurricane Charley ripped through the area on a fateful Friday the 13th. And DeNicolo continues to travel the roads in her white, fuel-efficient hybrid car, assessing the damage, searching for how she and other community-outreach groups can help. But for a community that relied heavily on agriculture as an economic engine, the problems that community leaders like DeNicolo face run deeper than patching up the remains of leaky blue-tarped roofs or unsightly debris. With no crops to pick, some have fled to "el norte," or, the north, to states like Michigan and Wisconsin to find work. Others found jobs hitching rides to construction sites in Port Charlotte and Englewood. Unfamiliar with code-enforcement rules and regulations, many farmworker families accepted aid from volunteers and unlicensed contractors who swarmed the area with nails and hammers, prepared to make repairs, not realizing that the so-called repairs would leave them worse off. Misguided compassion As Charley poured rain and winds violently through DeSoto County, Maria Macario, pregnant at the time, gathered with her husband Francisco, a landscaper, and their five children on the full-size mattress of their one-bedroom trailer. In the storm, their cream-colored trailer suffered considerable damage. The family moved into the extra bedroom of a relative's FEMA-provided trailer. When Macario gave birth in October to her son Demetrio, the boy had ingested amniotic fluid and was forced to stay at Sarasota Memorial Hospital for observation. "I would go visit him whenever I could," she said in Spanish. "It was a hard time, though, because he was sick and we didn't have a home. It didn't feel good to think that I didn't have a home to offer my baby." Though Demetrio was ready to be released, hospital officials would not release the infant to the Macarios until they had proof of a safe haven for their child, not a hurricane-ravaged trailer or one bedroom occupied by seven others. Macario's brother-in-law stepped in, attempting to make repairs to the family's trailer as fast as he could. Still, he felt overwhelmed knowing that the baby's future was at stake. "A group of volunteers with the noblest of intentions came in," DeNicolo said. "They decided to not just repair the home, but build three more rooms to the trailer." But their troubles continue. The volunteers had not taken out the proper permits to construct the additional rooms. Throughout DeSoto County, code-enforcement officials are beginning to serve citations on houses and mobile homes that are still in "unsafe" conditions post-Charley, said Matt Holloman, spokesman for the DeSoto County government. Homeowners have either 30 days to repair the damage up to code, or they must demolish the homes. If action is not taken, then the county steps in and demolishes the homes at the homeowner's expense. Outside help, hurt Faced with a swarm of displaced residents looking for homes after the 2004 hurricane season and those seeking advice after repairs failed to meet code-enforcement standards, Catholic Charities hired a housing counselor for its DeSoto County office. "A lot of people don't have the knowledge about the rules and regulations of this country," said Cristy Villate, housing counselor for Catholic Charities. "They'll have someone come up to them and say, 'Oh, I'll fix your roof. I'll fix the damage.' They don't go ahead and investigate to see if this person is even licensed." A frequent problem Villate has encountered among those who seek her help is residents who paid money up front for services that were never rendered. "People would go ahead and pay cash, because they were tricked into thinking that's how the system worked over here," Villate said. "The contractors would disappear with their money . . . Many times I could not help because they don't have a job, or they don't have their papers. The only help I can give is putting them in touch with the right authorities." Realizing a dream Driving down a strip of road lined with rusted, broken trailer homes, DeNicolo points out that perhaps it was a blessing those metal homes were not salvaged. Many housed seven to eight farmworkers at a time, without any air conditioning. "They're like sardine cans in the summer," DeNicolo said. Without housing, however, growers in DeSoto County have struggled to attract workers to the area, said Jim Selph, DeSoto extension director for the University of Florida's Institute of Farm and Agricultural Sciences. "After Charley, there wasn't housing," Selph said. "It really affected labor . . . we've still had people picking oranges into late July trying to get them off the tree. After Charley the workers left, and in many cases didn't come back. We've seen definite labor shortages over the past two years." To help fill the need for farmworker housing that can also withstand hurricane-force winds, Catholic Charities broke ground on their affordable farmworker housing project, Casa San Juan Bosco. Located on the outskirts of Arcadia in Nocatee, Casa San Juan Bosco will offer single-family home rentals, and also on-site employment and homeownership training for residents. "For these families, it's a dream of theirs to have a place they can call their own home," DeNicolo said, driving past an already-built model of what the houses will look like. "Little by little, we're hoping to realize those dreams."
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