A F T E R M A T H
Recovery Along Mississippi’s Coast An insider’s view on developing strategies for rebuilding storm-ravaged Gulfport
Michael Imber, AIA
by MICHAEL G. IMBER, AIA
In 1969 Hurricane Camille hit Mississippi coastline with such destructive force that left not only deep physical scars, but wrought social and political damage that lasted decades. All along the Gulf shore, town centers withered and suburban development sprawled inland like an uncontrollable cancer. Last summer, when Brent Warr took the mayor’s seat with 85 percent of the vote in Gulfport – Mississippi’s largest coastal community, with 71,000 residents – he vowed to take control of the town’s destiny. Warr planned to wrest Gulfport from the hands of a generation of ineffectual leadership and forge new social alliances that he hoped would restore its heritage of grace, vitality, and significance to the region. Then, on the morning of Aug. 29, two months after taking office, this young, hopeful mayor faced a threat greater than he could have ever imagined—Hurricane Katrina, with sustained 100 mph winds and a 20-foot storm surge, was bearing down on Gulfport. The damage from Katrina was unprecedented, and the historic communities along the coast of Mississippi bore the brunt of the storm. In sharp contrast to the chaotic struggle in New Orleans by local and federal authorities to regain order, Mississippi Gov. Haley Barbour acted immediately. Barbour appointed Jim Barksdale as
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chairman of the Governor’s Commission on Recovery, Rebuilding and Renewal. Within a few days, Barksdale summoned the renowned town planner Andres Duany of Duany Plater-Zyberk & Company to the Governor’s office. After a brief presentation, Gov. Barbour gave Duany a simple directive: “Do what you do, and do it well.” With funds from the philanthropic Knight Foundation in Miami, as well as from Barksdale’s own pockets, Duany committed his team from the Congress of New Urbanism – the group he cofounded in 1993 – to the task of planning the reconstruction of 11 communities along the state’s 120-mile devastated coastline. On Oct. 11, I arrived in Biloxi for the Mississippi Renewal Forum as part of Duany’s CNU contingent—110 professionals specializing in architecture, regional and community planning, economics, transportation and traffic engineering, environmentalism, retail, economics, codes, laws, and construction. I was in no way prepared for the breadth of destruction. The newspapers and live video feeds could not begin to accurately describe the omnipresent stench and immensity of loss. Our home for the week-long charrette, the Isle of Capri Casino Resort – with its first and second levels stripped to structure – proved a potent reminder of Katrina’s power.
Redefining Gulfport We spent the first day getting organized and informed. Then we were grouped in teams, supported by local professionals, each designated to one of the 11 coastal communities. Teams met with their respective civic leaders for a tour of their communities to access damage and future planning needs. In Gulfport, already since the storm, on Mayor Warr’s desk in his quaint Greek Revival city hall sat three condominium projects awaiting height variances of 20 floors or more, as well as a growing queue of real estate agents begging for the opportunity to rezone coastal properties to facilitate their immediate sales to out-of-state condominium developers and casino operators. There also was pressure by many to grab, as Biloxi had done in the 1990s, a piece of the lucrative gambling market, a dramatic shift that was certain to undermine Gulfport’s genteel Southern lifestyle. Clearly, the decisions made in the next few months – and during the week of our charrette – would redefine the town’s selfimage and rechart its future for generations. Katrina reportedly damaged 80 to 90 percent of Gulfport’s commercial and residential buildings, including a majority of its antebellum mansions. While citizens and elected officials alike realized the catastrophic proportions of
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