The often-contentious relationship between historic preservationists and private homeowners has flared up here recently, as activists determined to save the city’s character face off against Hurricane Katrina victims who can’t afford to repair architecturally significant homes–and need a place to live.
On one side are Laureen Lentz and Karen Gadbois, who say it is their “duty” to safeguard the architecture that distinguishes New Orleans: The eclectic mix of ground-hugging Creole cottages with steeply pitched roofs; low-slung, horizontal Arts and Crafts bungalows; ornately trimmed narrow, rectangular so-called “shotgun” houses.
On the other side are homeowners including Rosilyn Anderson and Linda Ireland, who want to demolish their Katrina-ravaged homes and replace them with modular structures.
In the middle is the city government, which decides what is to be saved.
It’s a question of preservation for the long-term good versus immediate need, said Richard Campanella, a geographer at Tulane University, who has been studying building trends in New Orleans since Katrina destroyed more than 123,000 properties.
“I fully understand and appreciate the predicament,” Campanella added, but his support is fully behind the movement for preservation.
“Our incredible inventory of distinctive, historic, well-built structures … forms integral parts of expansive neighborhoods,” he said. “This is an extremely valuable resource that should be preserved … money in the bank for New Orleans.”
Such sentiments spur the zeal of Lentz, a law librarian, and Gadbois, a former textile artist turned activist.
The pair met while blogging. Gadbois was upset over the demolition of buildings in her northwest Carrollton neighborhood that seemed to have little damage.
Lentz was raising similar concerns, while discussing the feat of rebuilding her own house, which fell down during Katrina.
A friend suggested the two join forces. And that’s when the Web site SquanderedHeritage.com that Gadbois started early last year, took off.
Assisted by volunteers, the duo trek through the yards of notable homes that they have found out from public notices might end up under the wrecking ball. They peek through windows and wriggle into crawl spaces. Sometimes they trespass.
“We know that in order to look at a house [properly], it’s best if we go inside,” Lentz said.
She is typically accompanied by a salvage expert. And even though Lentz acknowledged that preservationists sometimes might misjudge the worth of a building, she believes it’s “better to err on the side of letting [homeowners] appeal” than to risk losing an irreplaceable piece of architecture.
The preservationists take photos of the properties and post them on their Web site, often commenting on a building’s significance. Readers are encouraged to make their objections known at public hearings on potential demolitions.
The pair said they hoped readers of their Web site might help find buyers for properties destined for destruction or offer assistance to homeowners to repair the structures or salvage material from them.
They say some homeowners are using hurricane damage as an excuse to tear down properties they wanted to get rid of before the storm.
The New Orleans Department of Safety and Permits, the Housing Conservation District Review Committee and the New Orleans Historic District Landmarks Commission can all grant or deny permission for demolition depending on the location of a structure.
The city could not readily provide statistics for the number of demolition permits granted, but it has allocated funds to demolish 10,000 homes by year-end.
Some homeowners use private companies to demolish their buildings. Others–2,451 since Dec. 1–have requested help from the Federal Emergency Management Agency’s free demolition program. FEMA has completed 1,300 such teardowns, according to agency officials.
For Gadbois and Lentz, that is too many, and they accuse the city of embracing an unspoken rule that “if a structure is a hindrance to recovery, then just get rid of it.”
C. Elliot Perkins, acting executive director for the Historic District Landmarks Commission that oversees 16,000 buildings in 13 historic districts of the city, acknowledged that his agency usually encourages homeowners, wherever possible, to repair.
“To act in haste to tear down is irreversible,” Perkins said. “Our buildings define the character of our city. The city relies heavily on tourism for the economy. You can get good food and hear good music in other places. What sets us apart is our architecture. It can’t be duplicated.”
Property owners denied permission to demolish a structure may appeal to the City Council, and, if necessary, sue.
But that’s just more unwanted hassle for homeowners such as Rosilyn Anderson and Linda Ireland.
Standing on the porch of her green two-story Arts and Crafts-style home in the Carrollton neighborhood, an exasperated Anderson pointed to the rotted wood siding of the slightly lopsided structure.
Walls have separated from windows, floor boards have buckled, and there’s no central support. Rain gushes through holes in the roof.
City inspectors have condemned the structure as unsafe.
Anderson said she wants to replace the house with a new modular home because it would cost her less than the $150,000 that several contractors have told her it would take to repair the old home.
The Housing Conservation District Review Committee denied Anderson’s request to demolish the house. She plans to appeal.
Sue Taylor, a project manager for New Orleans Demolition Services LLC, which has helped scores of homeowners with demolitions, said there is “a general feeling of frustration, because the city is pressuring people to do something with their property, but then they keep throwing roadblocks.”
Such obstacles have worn down Linda Ireland.
She said “preservation zealots” helped derail her plans to demolish her storm-damaged shotgun house and replace it with a modular home.
A resident of the Broadmoor neighborhood for 30 years, Ireland said she would give away the structure to anyone willing to remove it.
Failing that, she had planned to “tear it down but reuse some of the material in her new home.” But when the activists of Squandered Heritage learned of Ireland’s plans to demolish what Lentz called “a very unique house” in a neighborhood “dominated by modern bungalow-style homes,” they quickly went into action, posting photos of the structure on their Web site and encouraging readers to help find a buyer.
Ireland said contractors have told her it would cost around $300,000 to repair the house. Lentz said desperate homeowners often exaggerated the cost of repairing a building.
But after she lost the fight for a demolition permit, Ireland said she was deflated, humiliated and on the verge of “having a nervous breakdown.”
But Lentz and Gadbois believe that New Orleanians will thank them in the future.
Historic architecture, said Gadbois, is “an economic generator. It’s why visitors come to New Orleans.”
And, added Lentz: “We don’t really want to drive around a bunch of new bungalows.”
