Stumpy Point, N.C., struggles to recover post-Irene

STUMPY POINT, N.C.

Alma Knight watches a workman rebuild her home from trailer windows adorned with curtains she stitched from a bedsheet.

Nearly five months ago, she wouldn’t venture inside the house she had lived in for 30 years.

Six inches of floodwaters from Hurricane Irene left water-soaked insulation that stank from mold and buckling, swollen floors.

Now, Knight strolls across the yard from her temporary home - the trailer, which the federal government provided three months ago - to check the progress. Instead of dampness, the house smells of fresh paint and just-cut lumber. She pauses to imagine new kitchen cabinets and critiques the purple paint job in the bedroom, where she hopes to sleep within a month. She jumps at the whiz of a radial saw and the pop of a nail gun.

"It's not hard for me to come back now because everything's changing," Knight said. "But, oh, it was - especially when they had torn out all the walls."

Like Knight, tiny Stumpy Point, an isolated fishing village on the mainland portion of Dare County, still is struggling back to its feet long after the hurricane ripped through its 115 homes and rendered more than half unlivable. It was one of the hardest-hit areas of the county, according to the state's Department of Emergency Management. Blue tarps still cover roofs and Federal Emergency Management Agency trailers dot front yards of homes on the village's one road, which snakes past old boats and stockpiles of fishing gear.

Though they can see the light at the end of the tunnel, residents and community leaders say aid has arrived slowly, and the village's recovery trails behind other affected communities in Dare, where Irene caused more than $200 million in damage.

State emergency officials said Stumpy Point is not alone: Other communities in North Carolina struck by the worst of the storm are still struggling to recover.

In the days after the hurricane, residents, some of whose families have called Stumpy Point home for generations, reeled in shock from flood damage not seen since the 1960s. It took time to mobilize, and Stumpy Point's off-the-beaten-path location at the top of Pamlico Sound kept it out of the public eye. Residents have found navigating a maze of insurance and disaster claims difficult.

Stumpy Point already was under duress when Hurricane Irene struck. From May until August, a wildfire near the bordering wetlands of the Alligator River National Wildlife Refuge blazed through 45,000 acres and blackened the community with thick smoke.

Many who rented homes in Stumpy Point have left for good. A few property owners have torn down homes, knowing it would cost more to rehab than to rebuild. Others are making repairs but are admittedly shaky on whether they could stand another blow.

"If it floods again and this house gets hit again, I can't do this, I can't do this again. We're just going to have to let it go," said Karen Midgett, who is dipping into her own pocket to rehab one house she owns and has yet to start work on another. "It's been hard, hard work. It's been a trial, no doubt about that, and I don't want to see another one any time soon."

Still, with the disaster has come a renewed sense of community. Neighbors banded together to assist in repairs and offered shelter for those left homeless. They held a community Thanksgiving dinner and a Christmas Eve service on an unfinished, wood plank altar at one of Stumpy Point's three churches, all of which were damaged.

"The flood has really changed my perspective. I realize a lot of things are just things," said Naomi Midgett, whose family is living with her parents while repairs to their home are completed. "My whole family is alive and well. No one was hurt. The house and all of that, yes, it takes time, but all of that can be replaced. It's a blessing to regain that perspective."

Hurricane Irene swirled up Pamlico Sound Aug. 26, planting itself next to Stumpy Point and transforming the sound's ankle-deep water into a raging ocean.

Naomi Midgett remembers watching what looked like a flash flood roll over the sound. She and her children helped her husband cut planks meant for a hay barn for her horses. They raised the refrigerator, the oven, anything they could before wading down the street to her parents' house. Around 10 p.m., she saw her husband's flashlight bobbing as he walked toward them. The water was still coming.

When Midgett awoke the next morning, the whole yard was water. Slowly, neighbors investigated the damage. The storm had moved boats, docks, and even a barn across a canal leading to the sound. Appliances had been carried off. A few houses were barely frames.

Curtis Price said he knew he would have to tear down his home the moment he saw water had reached the electrical wiring. The foundation had cracked and the porch and kitchen appeared to be separating from the rest of the structure. There wasn't a ceiling or wall that wasn't damaged.

It just wasn't worth sinking the money needed to make it livable again, said Price, a commercial fisherman and the assistant chief of the volunteer fire department. He moved his family into the firehouse, then a friend's trailer, then a motor home. They now live in two FEMA trailers connected by a walkway. His two children sleep in one.

Price has had difficulty obtaining an insurance settlement. He said a mix-up in tax records and issues with his mortgage company delayed the process and kept him from collecting as much as he could have. So far, he's received roughly $33,000. He hopes to get up to $30,000 more through federal aid funds. He's concerned because he's heard FEMA will collect the trailers April 1. Though he couldn't confirm a removal date, FEMA spokesman Danon Lucas said that, by law, the trailers may be available for up to 18 months after the disaster as long as the resident continues to have a disaster-related housing need.

These cases have moved Bill Pitt, who chairs the Dare County Long Term Disaster Recovery Committee, a group of charities and aid organizations, to come up with an aid plan for Stumpy Point and other areas of the county, such as Hatteras Island. The committee has encountered roadblocks in providing the aid, some of which has to do with the independent and self-reliant nature of communities like Stumpy Point. Right now, the committee is trying to organize the work so it can better recruit volunteers, he said.

Months ago, faith-based aid workers cleared out pews from Bayside Chapel, where services continued in the upstairs social hall. Deanne DeCarmo, the wife of the pastor, said the church didn't lose any of its 60 parishioners, though some did move from the village.

For now, the "cozy" upstairs services will remain, DeCarmo said, but there is an end in sight. The church is just waiting for new ducts, a finished ceiling, walls and carpet before routine services can resume.

"We just take one day at a time," DeCarmo said. "We keep moving."

Gabriella Souza, 252-441-1711, gabriella.souza@pilotonline.com