Post-Sandy, the toll of rebuilding in Brigantine

BRIGANTINE, N.J. - When Hurricane Sandy made landfall near her home exactly two years ago, Barbara Fox, then 75, was in the hospital undergoing a heart procedure.

When she got back two weeks later and saw the mountain of her ruined belongings on the curb like the belongings of nearly all her neighbors on Cummings Place, the shock sent her right back with a heart attack.

Health problems are just one of many obstacles faced by Fox and her neighbors on the congenial block of Cummings Place near Sheridan, where frustration levels remain as elevated as some of the rebuilt houses.

Depleted bank accounts, exacerbated illnesses, unrelenting stress, anxiety, anger, and a general sense that their lives have been knocked permanently off kilter permeate the stories of these mostly year-round residents, who started this saga much more hopeful that their contented lives on the island north of Atlantic City could be preserved.

"I have so much on my plate," said Laurel Haeser, 66, whose 68-year-old husband, Bill, has been in steadily deteriorating health in the last two years. "I want it to end. I lost who I was through this whole thing. I don't do any of the things I used to do for fun. We are hanging by our fingernails. We are being pushed around by the state."

She described the last two years "like sitting in the dentist's office waiting to get your tooth pulled." Others described efforts just to keep families from falling apart.

"The anxiety is so detrimental," Haeser said.

Although Lt. Gov. Kim Guadagno was nearby as part of her Oct. 29 storm anniversary appearances, nobody from the block seemed to find much meaning or comfort in the milestone. Haeser was in Somers Point, babysitting her grandchildren.

The Haesers completed basic rebuilding of their damaged home and have been back on Cummings Place for more than a year. They recently qualified for a $150,000 grant from the state - through the Reconstruction, Rehabilitation, Elevation and Mitigation program - to elevate their house.

But the grant triggered a series of state inspections and puzzling requirements, such as painting an upstairs bedroom, and will necessitate moving out once again and risk damage to her beloved kitchen fireplace - again.

It would seem from a distance the worst is behind them, but with the time frame for elevation still up in the air, there is relatively little peace of mind. Bill Haeser's health - he's been in and out of the hospital, now on oxygen - would have been enough to deal with, his wife said.

"I've just been in knots all the time," she said. "Retirement has not turned out the way we planned."

Across the street, Mase Builders - one of several companies lifting houses all over Brigantine above base flood elevation, a necessity to keep flood insurance premiums stable - is preparing to elevate the McGarrigels' yellow rancher on Thursday.

The McGarrigels were approved more than a year ago for elevation funding.

Neighbor Helen Dicecco, 88 when the storm hit, died in the spring; her house is now rented. Donna Pollastrelli, a disabled woman who got President Obama's attention when he visited, has a newly installed ramp to her home.

Two houses already have been lifted on the block, their occupants back home for good. One homeowner had his house claimed by the bank. The house sits empty, still down to the studs.

Mase's Chuck Hall has a close view of the agony homeowners have been facing but he noted, "When they see us, they're glad to see us."

On Wednesday, Fox and her dog, Maggie, sat on the porch of her renovated house, a modest rancher that from the street side opens to a spacious light-filled great room overlooking the public golf course. She said she was trying to figure out where to go while her house is being lifted. Rentals are scarce and expensive, she said, even in the off-season.

Still, she seemed a bit more carefree than others on the block, perhaps because her son took care of much of the paperwork. She said the street felt deserted compared with before the storm and not nearly as festive. It used to be a neighborhood where children from Atlantic City were driven to trick-or-treat.

Bob Solari, 66, was at work in his ex-wife's rebuilt house, as he has been since the storm hit.

Solari, a former Brigantine councilman, said that "everybody wants to get back to normal lives" but that "so many variables, unanswered questions" remain. Despite the relative normalcy of the island - the temporary road sign that once flashed emergency messages and notices of donation centers on Wednesday urged street hockey sign-ups - people are traumatized, he said.

"Everything is disrupted," he said. "It may look on the surface, what are they complaining about, they're getting funds, well, you move out of your house again."

Brigantine, with a wealthy summer demographic and a more modest year-round population, seemed to be at risk of losing the locals, he said.

"The Jersey Shore is fast becoming a summer and weekend area," he said.

He did much of the renovation himself, and he said the house was on target for an elevation at some point. Despite their divorce, Solari dedicated himself to the rebuilding of the house owned by Miriam Cifuentes. His not-too-hidden wish that their relationship would be strengthened along the way seems to have come true, or at least it's still in the realm of possibility, as far as he's concerned.

Solari also did the original renovation of the house. "I've rebuilt twice now, out of love," he said Wednesday.