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Mobile home evacuees make schools their home
By JAMES THORNER © St. Petersburg Times, published September 26, 1998 And it was the community perhaps best known for its clusters of mobile home parks -- Zephyrhills -- that lured the most people to the concrete-block comfort of school buildings. Nearly 300 people, most over 65, crammed Zephyrhills High School, turning the lobby and corridors into a village of lawn chairs, coolers, luggage and walking canes. Almost all were refugees from mobile homes, thankful they didn't have to face tropical-storm strength winds from inside the relatively flimsy walls of their trailers. Norm Marcotte staked a claim near the shelter's special needs wing for the infirm, which was rigged to an emergency diesel-powered generator. Suffering from cancer of the esophagus, Marcotte lay in the lobby of the school, linked to a feeding tube that pumped a milklike nutrient into his stomach. He felt it wise to evacuate his trailer, which is perched precariously on a hill in Richland. "I wouldn't want to be in a trailer with winds blowing 100 mph," Marcotte said. "Most of my neighbors are going to stick it out. But they're younger and healthier than I am." Zephyrhills High tried to segregate the senior citizens from the families with young children -- but not always successfully. Down a hallway lined with slumbering older couples sat Candace Allen with her 3-year-old son, niece and nephew. Graham crackers and other child-friendly fare filled a cardboard box next to the pile of blankets and pillows. "I brought books and games and music headsets," Allen said as her pint-sized nephew bounced a yo-yo off his sister's head. "I think that will keep the kids entertained." Another mother and son tandem, Arthur and Audrey Rideout of Zephyrhills, camped out a short distance away. Audrey Rideout, 96, stretched her legs in a lawn chair in the hallway. Arthur Rideout, 75, laid a mattress on the floor for his mother and grabbed a sleeping bag for himself. He figured Mom's comfort came before his own. "It doesn't make any difference to me. I was in the Army in World War II and won a Purple Heart. I'm used to sleeping on the ground," he said. Shelters in other parts of eastern and central Pasco, in areas with fewer older people and fewer mobile homes, were considerably less crowded. In Pasco High School in Dade City, only a few dozen had plunked down in the school's band room by midafternoon. Joan and Bill Jones weathered Hurricane Andrew when they lived in Homestead. They crouched behind their bar as Andrew stripped the concrete slab roof off their apartment building. A breakaway door flew through the air and smashed into Bill Jones' back. Now living in a Wesley Chapel mobile home, they weren't about to repeat the mistake with Georges. "There is no way I'm staying in a mobile home, just no way," Joan Jones said from the band room, her belongings piled behind her. "We lost everything in one second." Land O'Lakes High School had 29 temporary residents Friday evening. Pine View Middle School had 10. Although the numbers were fairly small, the sense of gratitude was large. "I've already had lunch, and I've got my home sweet home over there," said Mae Smiddy, pointing to her inflatable bed in a comfortable corner of the high school's tiled common area. "And I know one of the ladies back in the kitchen there, so I feel right at home here." Smiddy said she decided to head for the shelter at the first sign of foul weather. "I said, "I'm getting out of here. I'm going to beat the crowd.' " Pine View Middle School Principal Dave Estabrook said the shelter at his school is prepared to operate all weekend if needed. "We'll be open until we're told otherwise," he said.
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Home
uddled masses yearning to be free of Hurricane Georges hunkered down at storm shelters throughout eastern and central Pasco County on Friday.
