Brad Pitt may have broken ground on his visionary green development in Holy Cross, but residents and others looking to restore homes that survived the flooding of 2005 might do well to look at how previous examples of building production values fared after catastrophe. It seems apparent that some modes of construction in New Orleans should be abandoned, and new designs created, to provide for the future housing needs of New Orleanians.
There are environmentally friendly ways to redevelop, like what Mr. Pitt and his Global Green group has in mind. Using energy-efficient materials and design strategies, and aiming for "net zero energy and carbon neutral building," the Holy Cross development promises solar energy emergency power, rainwater recycling, and community conveniences. The plan includes middle-income affordable housing, and through energy-saving design, it estimates residents will save up to $2,400 per year in electricity. It calls for five single-family houses, with preference given to displaced Lower 9th/Holy Cross residents. The 18-unit apartment project is also said to be targeted at displaced Lower 9th Ward residents, offering very reasonable rents ($550 for a one-bedroom unit, $650 for two bedrooms).
A brief survey of rents on Craigslist indicates that, no matter how poorly the housing market is faring, the rental market is booming. One bedroom apartments go from $500 (rare) to $1000 or more per month. Vacancies seem high, judging by the number of "For Rent" signs that keep popping up in my neighborhood. Maybe by the time the Global Green project is completed the housing market will have overcome its slump; even if it doesn't, though, I'd bet Mr. Pitt and his cohort won't have too much difficulty filling the conscientiously-built units with returned New Orleanians.
By contrast, other parts of Holy Cross are going to need a lot more than a little sprucing up to make them as desirable as new houses. The house in the photo survived the flooding, but hasn't quite gotten along as well as others. It had plastic siding, which I'm sure added to the value of the home and protected it from the elements ... until fire struck, and burned the place all but to the ground. The plastic siding melted into absurd shapes and flowed like toxic liquid onto the concrete and fencing around it. As it burned, it released who-knows-what into the air, and the place still reeks of charred furniture.
Nearby many brick-on-slab buildings still stand, deserted by their owners and, in many cases, unable to be raised to FEMA-determined safe elevations. An article in this week's Times-Picayune decried the encroaching loss of historically significant housing in New Orleans, and brick-on-slab construction was singled out as one of the losers in the new architectural game.
Slab houses are sturdy and solid, as far as that goes. Personally, I think these homes should be preserved, so long as the owners realize that the next "Big one" will flood their home again, and that they will have to rebuild again in such a case. But there should be no question but that slab-homes in New Orleans belong to a different time, and shouldn't be kept in the housing-design portfolio for Post-Katrina rebuilding.
A friend recently pressed home to me the fact that most people make economic decisions based on emotion more than on logic or reason, and sometimes it seems that's the only thing that successfully explains how so many residents could work so hard every day to rebuild their homes. It might be easy for others to dismiss the faith that New Orleanians have in our future, especially in light of global concerns and climatic extremes.
But faith has gotten a lot of us a very long way over the past two years. How well we couple that faith with sound decisions on how to rebuilt will very likely determine how well the city survives the next catastrophe.
