Trash Piles in Paradise
By jxmartin
Thu, 19 Oct 2017
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Trash Piles in Paradise
It is mid-October of 2017, in Southwest Florida. Hurricane Irma had passed over the area some four weeks past, leveling trees and wreaking destruction in her path. By the time we arrived here, on October tenth, massive clean-up efforts had been under way. In our own residential complex, at Spring Run on Coconut Rd. in Estero, herculean efforts had returned the environs into a near normal state. The golf course was open and in good shape. All systems were go.
The storm had torn off some of roof tiles on many of our residential buildings. Hard-working roofers, toiling in the ninety-degree heat, had patched up temporarily, much of the damage. Our own condo had had the lanai ceiling blown out and several large leaks drilled into the roof. But the process of repair was in hand and we expected a complete recovery. It wasn’t until we played our first round of golf that we saw how much damage had been done to the rest of the complex. At the rear of the large homes, in the complex, a large metal cage covers the pool and patio areas. Several of these metal cages, along the fairways, were crumpled up like used Kleenexes by the 140 miles per hour winds. A few carports were blown apart. The missing tiles, on the roof lines, showed like missing teeth on a jack o lantern. It would be some time before all of this mess got untangled. Still, we had electricity and air conditioning. The area gas stations had returned to normal supply and the commercial sector was fully functional. All in all, it was a pretty good status for us. We were of course mindful of our kindred brothers and sisters in Puerto Rico who were still struggling with no electricity, no potable water and little food. May God bless them and bring them relief.
We had occasion in the next week to tour much of the area in and around Estero. Huge piles of garden waste and tree limbs were stacked along the road sides. They were awaiting pickup by Lee County contractors. A typical bureaucracy functioned even in emergencies. It seems that a Lee County bid had been let out last year for contractors to pick up debris like this. Even at this extreme point, the contractor insisted that he had the sole right to pick up and dispose of wastes. I am sure that his eyes sparkled with the thought of six-months on lucrative paymentss. Meanwhile, the beleaguered residents were just asking for help in removing the trash piles. Rodents, snakes and other vermin found these piles a safe place to nest. I can’t imagine a clean-up effort succeeding without massive amounts of contractors who were ready and waiting to help. I hope the County fathers wake up and get this taken care of.
We were in Naples the other day. Even in the toney streets of this affluent community, piles of debris waited to be picked up. Only in the very pricey environs of Port Royal, were these matters attended to. This wealthy community had its own maintenance service who cleaned up things quickly. Fair is fair, I guess. The wealthy can afford to pay for services that mere mortals have to be patient for. Even here in Naples, the caprice of fate was at work. In some areas, all would be well. Just a few hundred yards over and entire building looked like a bomb had gone off. And of course, in the poorest section, out towards Immokalee the damages had been severe. Those folks have few resources to recover with. And bless the poor illegal immigrants. They would not even come forward to ask for help, fearing arrest by ICE agents.
A few days later, we drove out to resort Island of Sanibel/Captiva. On the main road in, several large stands of trees had been uprooted by the powerful winds. On the island, there were piles of debris stacked along the roadsides, waiting for pickup and disposal. Everyone in SW Florida knew that they were racing against the tourist season deadline of January first. Much of the areas’ economy depended upon the millions of sun-seeking tourists flocking to Florida’s beaches. The place had to be cleaned up by then. On a more positive note, we stopped by an area restaurant, the Mucky Duck on Captiva, for lunch. The place was awash with European tourists enjoying the beach and a leisurely lunch. In that we are residents of the area, and fair-skinned Irish types, who generally avoid the beaches and pools, we sometimes forget how much of a beach- culture the area really is.
It would be a struggle, but the whole area would recover in the coming months. This was after all Florida, where Hurricanes come and go and the natives persevere. And the beaches are a perpetual, lure of sun and relaxation, in the semi tropical climbs of southern Florida.
-30-
( 833 words)
Joseph Xavier Martin
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'in the complex, a large
Permalink Submitted by Insertponceyfre... on
'in the complex, a large metal cage covers the pool and patio areas. Several of these metal cages, along the fairways, were crumpled up like used Kleenexes by the 140 miles per hour winds.'
I'm curious - why are they covered with metal cages?
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