Florida Communities Face Tough Choices After Three Hurricanes: To Rebuild or Relocate?
Just a month ago, Brooke Hiers and her family moved out of the state-issued emergency trailer they had occupied since Hurricane Idalia devastated their Gulf Coast fishing village of Horseshoe Beach in August 2023. They were in the process of finishing the electrical work on their self-rebuilt home, having drained Clint’s savings to make it livable again. Tragically, their hopes were dashed when Hurricane Helene struck, displacing their newly renovated home from its four-foot-high pilings and sending it floating into a neighbor’s yard.
“You always think, ‘Oh, there’s no way it can happen again,’” Hiers reflected. “I don’t know if anyone has experienced this in the history of hurricanes.”
In just 13 months, the vulnerable stretch of Florida’s Big Bend has been directly hit by three hurricanes: Idalia, followed by Category 1 Hurricane Debby in August 2024, and now Helene.
“I’ve tried to use every word in the book: catastrophic, devastating, heartbreaking… none of that explains what happened here,” Hiers, a town council member, stated.
The Ongoing Toll of Storms
The repeated strikes on the Big Bend region are forcing residents to confront the harsh realities of living in an area increasingly affected by powerful storms fueled by climate change. Many families, like the Hiers, find themselves unable to afford homeowner’s insurance for their flood-prone properties, leaving them with few options: abandon their homes, invest tens of thousands to elevate their houses as mandated by building codes, or move into recreational vehicles that can be evacuated.
Those unable to make those choices have resorted to sheltering with family or friends, sleeping in their cars, or living in the remnants of their damaged homes.
In the wake of these storms, Janalea England has transformed her commercial fish market in Steinhatchee into a donation distribution center, following her efforts after Hurricane Idalia. Tables filled with water, canned food, diapers, clothes, and hygiene items draw a steady stream of residents in need.
“I’ve never seen so many people homeless as I do right now. They have nowhere to go,” England lamented.
A Community in Crisis
The sparsely populated Big Bend is known for its lush pine forests and pristine salt marshes. Previously, it provided affordable living options for local workers, from teachers to mill workers, but the relentless storms have shattered that stability.
Helene’s destructive force left many residents with nothing to salvage, with some escaping the storm with little more than the clothes on their backs.
“People didn’t even have a Christmas ornament to pick up or a plate from their kitchen; it was just gone,” Hiers recalled.
Frustration is palpable among the residents who feel let down by government assistance. England, who took initiative to organize her donation site, expressed her disillusionment with FEMA’s support.
“FEMA didn’t do much,” she said. “After Idalia, they offered loans but where is our tax money going?”
Lorraine Davis, England’s sister, received a letter days before Helene’s landfall stating that her insurance company would drop her coverage without explanation. Living on a fixed income, Davis is unsure how she’ll repair her trailer, which has significant damage from the last storm.
“We’ll all be on our own,” England remarked. “We’re used to it.”
An Uncertain Future
In the aftermath of Hurricane Helene, many residents are too weary to begin cleanup once more, especially with new storms brewing in the Gulf. With local businesses washed away, and many losing both their homes and jobs, the impact of the storms is deeply felt.
Hud Lilliott, a former mill worker who lost his home in Dekle Beach, expressed concern over the future of their community. “We’ve worked our whole lives and now it feels like the light at the end of the tunnel has gone dark,” said his wife, Laurie.
Dave Beamer, who rebuilt his home in Steinhatchee after Hurricane Idalia, finds himself questioning whether he has the strength to do it all again. He’s now considering alternative living arrangements, such as a camper to make relocation easier in the face of future storms.
In Horseshoe Beach, Hiers awaits the delivery of a makeshift town hall to provide essential services while living with her daughter 45 minutes away.
“You feel like this could be the end of your town. Of your community,” Hiers said, expressing uncertainty about their recovery. She and her husband are contemplating purchasing an RV to park on their property but won’t return to Horseshoe Beach until this year’s storm season is over.
“We just don’t know how to recover at this point,” she concluded.
