For 28 straight days I worked on the Blue Roof program in Hattiesburg, Mississippi. Blue roofs are temporary plastic installations that are designed to protect homes until a permanent fix can be installed. They were needed in Mississippi and Louisiana after the devastation caused by hurricane Katrina. My job was to inspect the work of contractors after the blue roofs had been installed. I was in Hattiesburg from October 15th to November 11th, 2005.
Talking to a homeowner about the damage in his neighborhood
Much of the damage in the Hattiesburg area was caused by heavy winds to shingles and metal roofs. But the most dramatic damage was caused by falling trees. Southern Mississippi is heavily wooded and many of the trees were toppled by the hurricane. Occasionally these falling trees would hit homes and other buildings. We saw several houses that had been bifurcated by falling trees. The blue roof program was not designed to help homes that had been “totaled,” but it did try to help residences that had not taken a direct hit from trees. In other words, minor temporary repairs to roofs were also part of the program.
Hattiesburg home destroyed by a falling tree
On one particular day in Laurel (located 30 miles north of Hattiesburg) we inspected a home in an upscale suburban neighborhood. The roof of the home was almost totally covered with blue plastic. The homeowner was very interested in talking. He said, along his street, every home but one had sustained major damage. The day we were there crews were working on permanent fixes to 3 of the homes. The home across the street had sustained major damage and had then caught fire. It was “totaled.” The homeowner said that during the worst of the hurricane it was scary as trees fell in his neighborhood, some landing on houses.
We inspected blue roofs on all sorts of homes, from large modern homes to mobile homes to small primitive cottages. On the last day I was in Hattiesburg, we inspected a blue roof in a rural area 30 miles north of Hattiesburg. Someone had placed a “Post-it” note on the inspection form that read: “She lives in horrible living conditions. They may not think anyone lives there. It’s an old shack built into the shell of an old camper. She keeps a very clean house, but she has nothing.” Too many of the homes I visited were depressing.
Blue Roof installed on a humble abode located 30 miles north of Hattiesburg
Every morning, for 28 days, I and a representative from the contractor went out and inspected blue roofs. We averaged between 15 and 20 homes a day and they were frequently scattered throughout a fairly wide geographic area. This meant that I traveled several hundred miles every day. I can now say that I’ve driven through the town of Hot Coffee, Mississippi.
“Downtown” Hot Coffee, Mississippi.
The principal hazards of inspecting blue roofs were dogs and dogshit. Southern Mississippi seems to have an unusually high concentrations of canines; and too many were seriously anti-social. Luckily most the latter where tethered or chained, but were scary nonetheless. One day I needed to visually inspect the back roof of a house. In the backyard was a pit bull. I decided to the neighbor if I could use his backyard instead. He agreed, but as I was walking back he mentionned that there was a hole in the fence. As I looked up, the pit bull came charging through the breach. For one brief moment I froze. . . . Luckily the dog was chained and when he reached the end of his constraint, he lurched back. I was never attacked or bitten, but at least one of my colleagues was. The Corps personnel told us to be particularly leary of small, very hyper dogs.
Finding the homes to inspect was frequently a problem. It was not always easy to find maps and we didn’t always have a course plotted for us. And when we did have a course, the location of homes was occasionally in error. The rural roads in southern Mississippi are narrow 2-lane affairs; houses along roads are frequently unnumbered or not in numerical sequence; and it is not unusual for driveways to be named (and not show up on maps). All this made for an interesting, and occasionally frustrating day.
The contractor’s representatives (reps) were all locals. During my stay in Hattiesburg, I worked with approximately 10 different reps. They were all excellent company and easy to work with. One had been raised in Chicago and had return to Hattiesburg to help tend her grandmother who had subsequently died. She had a horrible smoker’s hack. Working with her was a pleasure (except for the cough). Another was a Seventh-day Adventist who explained to me why I should be worshipping on Saturday. I couldn’t ever quite relate to the issue. But he was a very nice person. Another was a salesman who was supplementing his income while he was waiting for business to pickup. He was an excellent navigator. He was able to transact a little business while we were on the road. Another was a local hustler. He had played baseball at a major university and majored in sports management. He had bet quite a large sum of money on his alma matter’s football team and lost. Another rep had played outside linebacker at Southern Miss and been drafted in the 6th round by the Atlanta Falcons. He didn’t seem to have much interest in playing pro football. He was a large, but soft-spoken, person. Another was a native Hawaiian who had ended up in Mississippi with her then husband who was in the service. After they had divorced (on particularly ugly grounds), she had stayed in Mississippi. She seemed very devoted to her family. Another rep lives in a small community 20 miles north of Hattiesburg. He talked to me about the joys of living in a family compound in a small rural community in the South. Many of my colleagues complained about the reps they went out with, but not me. I will always remember the friendliness of almost everyone I met in southern Mississippi.
Other than work, eat, and sleep, there wasn’t time for much else. One person described our experience as “Groundhog Day” for 28 straight days. But eating out was occasionally fun. Two of the more interesting places in Hattiesburg were Leatha’s BBQ Inn and Nanny’s Country Kitchen. Leatha’s is an excellent BBQ joint; expect to spend about $12, plus tip. It is located west of town on Hardy Street, behind an RV sales lot. The host is a large, and very friendly, woman. The place has bunkhouse-type seating and is fairly primitive. It features folk art on the wall. One particularly friendly employee entertained customers by singing Christmas carols for a buck each. Nanny’s has cafeteria-style dining, really good food, and is a good place to have lunch; the staff is very friendly. For $6 you get a large meal which includes meat, potatoes, 2 vegetables, ice tea, and a small dessert. Nanny’s is located on Edwards Street. If you eat at either of these two places, be hungry when you arrive.
Hattiesburg has some wonderful old homes and historic areas are being preserved. Luckily most of these places seemed to have survived the Hurricane Katrina.
Repairing a roof in the historic district of Hattiesburg
While I was in Hattiesburg things were returning to normal. The population of the city, however, had exploded by 25,000, most involved in the relief? The motels were all full and the restaurants were packed at night. One night a colleague counted 74 Bell South trucks in HoJo’s motel parking area.
