[StBernard] Paperwork slowing demolitions in St. Bernard

[Westley Annis]

Paperwork slowing demolitions in St. Bernard
Posted by St. Bernard bureau June 11, 2007 9:29PM
By Paul Rioux
St. Bernard bureau

When the last lot was sold in the Buccaneer Villa South subdivision in St.
Bernard Parish about 30 years ago, Robert Ducros' father bought the
developer's temporary sales office and placed it on cinderblocks behind his
Old Arabi home. 

Over the years, the 12-by-18-foot structure has served as an office, a
teenage hangout and a utility shed. 

"It has some history behind it, but I certainly wouldn't call it
historical," Ducros said. 

Don't tell that to the Louisiana Division of Historical Preservation. 

The agency is withholding permission to demolish the Hurricane
Katrina-damaged shed and two other partially collapsed sheds next to it
while reviewing the structures' historical significance. 

Ducros, who applied to have the outbuildings demolished in November 2005,
said he was incredulous when he recently learned the reason for the delay. 


"These are just some dumpy sheds that have no historical significance
whatsoever," he said. "They say one man's treasure is another man's trash,
but I don't think anyone could look at these sheds and see anything more
than an eyesore." 

And it's not the only one in the neighborhood. 

Down the block, three ruined mobile homes at 138 Friscoville Ave. also have
been flagged as potential architectural treasures, prohibiting their
demolition. 

Andrew Thomas, a spokesman for the Federal Emergency Management Agency,
chalked up the delays to a paperwork error and an abundance of caution
exercised by inspectors because the structures are in the Friscoville Avenue
Historic District. 

He said inspection forms mistakenly indicated that historic homes on the
lots were slated for demolition. He said the sheds and trailers will be
reinspected and likely cleared for demolition. 

Although the demolition delays appear to have been the result of a
bureaucratic glitch and not a belief that the structures were worth saving,
St. Bernard officials say it's a classic example of government red tape
frustrating recovery efforts. 

"You want to know why things aren't moving?" asked Dave Peralta, the
parish's chief administrative officer. "It's because we've got to determine
whether a bunch of ruined trailers have historical value. How ridiculous is
that?" 

Thomas said inspectors try to err on the side of caution, especially in
historic districts. 

"They don't want to prematurely sign off on the demolition of a historic
structure because once it's gone, it's gone," he said. 

Peralta said parish contractors have been trying for nearly a year to get
clearance to remove the three Friscoville Avenue trailers. 

Large sections of the trailers' aluminum siding were ripped off during
Katrina, exposing the studs, which are overgrown with vines in spots. 

"What possible historical significance could these trailers have?" Peralta
said. "As far as we know, no presidents have slept in any of them." 

Each time a storm-damaged building is condemned, the parish forwards the
address and a description of the structure to FEMA, which sends a debris
team to review the property along with inspectors from the Division of
Historic Preservation. 

"They have to approve each structure, regardless of whether it's a house, a
trailer, a shed or a dog house," said Donna Lopez, a parish employee who
tracks the demolition requests. "It doesn't matter if it's in a historic
area or not." 

Maria Tio, a spokeswoman for Lt. Gov. Mitch Landrieu's office, which
oversees the state preservation agency, referred questions about the delayed
Friscoville Avenue demolitions to FEMA. 

In 1998, a nine-block stretch of Friscoville Avenue between the Mississippi
River and St. Bernard Highway was designated as a historic district and
added to the National Register of Historic Places. 

Many of the homes date to the early 1900s, when the 100 block of Friscoville
Avenue developed as a thriving gambling center. Until a crackdown in 1950s,
several betting halls were routinely packed with patrons, many taking the
streetcar from New Orleans, where gambling was banned. 

"In the 1940s, my father was a justice of the peace and people would knock
on the door in the middle of the night because they wanted to get married,"
Ducros said. "It was like a mini Las Vegas in those days." 

Ducros is renovating the nearly 100-year-old house at 615 Friscoville Ave.
that he inherited from his parents. He said he understands the importance of
saving historic homes, but he's at a loss to explain the apparent concern
about his sheds. 

"If they want to haul them away to a museum somewhere, that's fine with me,"
he said. "I just want them gone."