‘Down here, life is still a battle’: Dozens of Collier students still homeless from Hurricane Irma

Five-year-old Ace Mitchell shot up in his bed and yelled to his mother: “The flood is here again! Don’t let me drown!”

It was April, and rain from the first major storm since Hurricane Irma pummeled the roof of the trailer where Ace, who was home sick from school, had been sleeping. Inside, the sound of raindrops reverberated through the metal structure as water seeped in through the closed windows, dripping into a pool on the floor.

Ace, who had lived his entire life in Everglades City, had never been afraid of storms. But many things had changed since Hurricane Irma took his home, leaving him and his family to make do with less-than-adequate housing, such as the rat-infested trailer where he slept that day.

Dozens of Collier students still homeless after Irma

At least 500 public school students in Collier County were displaced by Irma, according to the Collier school district. Fast forward one year, and dozens of students, including Ace, have yet to move home.

Students at Everglades City School, the K-12 school Ace and his sister Aria attend, had the highest rate of student displacement in the county.

The school had about 200 students enrolled when Irma tore through town, and more than 60 — or one-third of the student population — were displaced, according to Everglades principal Jim Ragusa. Roughly 30 have yet to move home, and about 20 students left town altogether, some of whom moved out of state.

“People were tired of trying to fight to get a place to stay,” Ragusa said.

Everglades City is remote, and contractors still have plenty of work in Naples, where many residents are still waiting on roof repairs, Ragusa said. And although Everglades City saw an influx of volunteers from across the country after the hurricane, no one has stayed because of the lack of housing.

Furthermore, many residents are still fighting to recover costs from their insurance companies and from the Federal Emergency Management Agency, which never sent in trailers, all while juggling their regular work and home responsibilities, Ragusa said.

“In Naples, things are pretty much back to normal. But down here, life is still a battle,” he said. 

More:Hurricane Irma: One year later

More:Hurricane Irma: Timeline told in stories, photos, videos before, during and after the big storm hit

Immokalee: ‘We couldn't believe what we saw’

Some 40 miles away in Immokalee, many families are experiencing similar problems.

The area had some of the highest rates of student displacement after Irma, in part because many residents live in flimsy trailers that stood no chance against the 100 mph-plus winds that thrashed the town.

Eden Park Elementary fifth-grader Alexia Trevino, 10, evacuated to Arkansas with her parents and returned one week later to find her childhood home and belongings destroyed.

The heavy wind and rain had caused the walls of their three-bedroom trailer to rot and the roof to cave in. Mold spread throughout the structure, covering clothes, sheets, curtains and childhood keepsakes such as crafts, pictures and a baby blanket.

Alexia’s parents — Ludivina Rivera, 46, a preschool teacher at the Guadalupe Center, and Fidencio Trevino, 54, an irrigation worker — had just finished paying off the property in December.

“When we got back, we couldn’t believe what we saw,” Rivera said this summer as she wiped away tears. “I thought, ‘Where are we going to live?’ I lost all hope. We had worked so hard for our home, and we have nothing now.”

The family moved in with relatives for a month and a half before finding an apartment in a large complex about 10 minutes away from their home.

They went from being debt-free and having no major monthly payments to spending $2,500 for move-in costs plus $700 per month for rent. Come October, their rent will increase to $800.

Lack of affordable housing is a growing problem in Collier County and is the biggest contributing factor to a severe student homelessness problem that existed even before the hurricane, said Caroline Brennan, the homeless student liaison for Collier schools when Irma hit.

Some 900 students were already homeless before the hurricane, according to Collier schools estimates. The district’s definition of homeless includes students living in hotels, shelters, campgrounds and those staying with friends or family.

The 500-student count of those made homeless by the hurricane is "absolutely" an underestimation, as many people who moved in with relatives did not know that doubling-up classified them as homeless, Brennan said, and others simply did not feel the need to disclose their housing situations.

Collier schools determines the number of homeless students through an annual questionnaire that is sent home with students for parents to complete. 

Results for this school year's survey will not be released until October, but the district has already identified a number of families displaced by the hurricane that were not reported last year, Brennan said. 

More:Six months after Hurricane Irma, some Immokalee residents still hurting, some 'bouncing back'

More:Business slow, families struggle three months after Hurricane Irma hit Immokalee

Student mental health suffers after Irma

Alexia said the hardest part has been living without the tight-knit community around her old home. Her family had a big yard where she would play with her dog and the neighborhood kids. Her parents would host cookouts for the nearby families, and two stray cats, Rosie and Aurelio, would come by the house each day to greet them.

Now, the yard is overgrown and a blue tarp covers the trailer. When they go to visit, the cats don’t come by anymore.

At the new apartment, the family doesn’t know anyone, and there’s too much traffic for Alexia to play alone outside. It’s been a tough adjustment for everyone, Rivera said.

For other displaced students, like Ace and many others in Everglades City, the hurricane triggered symptoms of post-traumatic stress.

Recognizing the severity of the issues and the lack of mental health resources in the small town, the Collier school district hired Philip Lazarus, director of the school psychologist program at Florida International University, to train Everglades school staff how to respond to the many students experiencing fear, anxiety, loss of emotional control and difficulties focusing.

More:Hurricane Irma: Six months later

Everglades City children were already a vulnerable population — nearly 90 percent are classified as economically needy. Lazarus said several teachers and administrators had pointed out numerous children who were already suffering the effects of neglect, sexual abuse, domestic violence, parent incarceration or substance abuse. 

“The hurricane just kind of compounded those adverse childhood experiences and created extra turmoil and burdens on the students,” he said.

Everglades City lacks after-school programs typically found in other areas, such as a Boys & Girls Club or YMCA, making it even more difficult to provide students with emotional, academic and physical enrichment. One of the only community hubs in town — the school gym — was destroyed by the hurricane. It has since been rebuilt. 

As a founding member of the National Association of School Psychologist’s National Emergency Assistance Team, Lazarus has responded to more than a dozen school shootings and about half a dozen natural disasters, including hurricanes Charley, Andrew and Katrina.

He said it’s common to see about 20 percent of students exhibiting symptoms of PTSD for a year or more after a traumatic event. And being constantly uprooted can make matters worse.

‘How do you throw away your life?’

Ace, the boy from Everglades City, along with his sister, Aria, and his parents, Shannon and Wesley Mitchell, had been living in their home for only one week before they fled Irma. The three-bedroom house belonged to Wesley’s parents, who said they could move in after he and Shannon fell behind on mortgage payments and were foreclosed on.

As the hurricane approached, the Mitchells boarded up the windows as a precaution — they thought the storm would veer east — and evacuated to Lake Placid, a town in Central Florida, to stay with Wesley’s family.

Shannon and Wesley returned to their home Sept. 12 to find 4½ feet of floodwater had swamped their house. Mud was caked to the walls, and some furniture had toppled over or floated around the room. 

More:Everglades City looks to capture grants to help rebuild after Hurricane Irma

More:Three months after Irma, recovery still slow in Everglades City

The couple got to work shoveling out mud and clearing their yard to make space for all the items they would soon throw out: clothing, furniture, kitchen appliances, and their washer and dryer.

“I don’t think it hit me until I saw that my kids’ photos and the pictures of my dead brother and myself growing up were in the mud,” Shannon said in January as she held back tears. “How do you just throw away your life?”

Outside, dead fish and crabs rotted in their driveway. As the days went by, the stench grew stronger in the September heat, and mold began to spread through the house. Shannon broke into a heat rash.

The couple spent the first three nights sleeping on blow-up mattresses in their muddy bedroom, and even one night in their car, but after hearing stories of neighbors falling ill to mold and infections they moved to a one-bedroom hotel room nearby.

Ace and Aria, who had been staying with family until it was safe for them to return, soon joined their parents. It had been only one week, but it felt like an eternity to Shannon, who had never been separated from her children for more than one night.

Although the space was small, the family made it work. Shannon slept in the bedroom with Ace and Aria, while Wesley slept on the living room couch.

Still not back home in Everglades City

Shannon soon returned to her job at the U.S. Postal Service office in Ochopee and Wesley to his construction management job in Naples, while Wesley’s parents watched the children and worked on the house. In the evenings Shannon and Wesley would join them: lugging out their belongings, scooping out mud, tearing down the walls and pulling out the rotted floorboards, to start.

When Collier schools reopened last year on Sept. 25, Aria’s anxiety began to bubble to the surface. When Shannon dropped her off in the mornings, Aria would latch on to her and cry until school staff pried her away. The episodes occurred every day for three months.  

“She was going through a lot of emotions that she didn’t know how to deal with,” Shannon said. “I think the hardest thing for her was probably just not comprehending what had happened.”

December came and the Mitchells’ home was nowhere near livable. Tourism season was coming and the hotel, like many others in Everglades City, was beginning to pressure renters to move out.

The Mitchells were in luck: Wesley’s coworkers in Naples had banded together to purchase a one-bedroom trailer and told him his family could use it for as long as they needed.

On Jan. 1, the family drove the trailer down from Naples, parked it in their yard and moved in. Although the space was small, making it hard on Ace and Aria, who like to run around and play, they were grateful for the roof over their heads.

More:Hurricane Irma: Three months later

Then, in April, the rains came, causing Ace to cry out in his sleep. By July the Mitchells weren’t the only ones living in the trailer; a family of rats had also moved in. It was the final straw.

The Mitchells built out their shed into a one-bedroom unit and moved in.

This summer Shannon said she had nearly run through the $120,000 she received from insurance and the $2,000 from FEMA just buying building materials; Wesley and his father have been rebuilding the home without hired help.

This time, they’re using cement and tile to better withstand any future flooding.

Waiting for a new home

Back in Immokalee, Alexia’s family also has been scrounging to get by, spending what little funds are left at the end of the week to buy building materials. Her father said he’s done much of the construction on his own.

The family received $13,000 from FEMA to help pay for repairs, furniture and rent, but the cost to fix the roof alone is $16,000, Rivera said.

Their financial stress hit an all-time high in August when Rivera, who already suffered from diabetes and epilepsy, learned she had renal kidney failure and would need a transplant.

“I have a daughter. I just want to give her a good home and a good future,” Rivera said.

Last week, for the first time in a long time, the family received some good news. Several charities, including the Immokalee Unmet Needs Coalition, the Salvation Army and the Mennonite Disaster Services, are coming together to build them a new house.

Alexia said she was excited to move into a new home but would miss her old one, too.

The dilapidated trailer will soon be demolished, and construction on a new one is expected to be completed in April.

 “Whenever we do get our new home, it’s going to be just wonderful,” Rivera said.

'Kids are resilient'

The Mitchells have also received charitable help. A Naples couple is installing a new set of cabinets in their kitchen and someone donated a set of furniture. Their church gave them a stove and a new washer and dryer, and numerous organizations and individuals have donated clothes, toys, school supplies and food and water. Post office workers from across the country have sent Shannon gift cards and letters of encouragement. A little boy showed up in the Mitchells' yard and gave Ace a box of Legos — his favorite toy. Even CenturyLink waived a couple of bills.

“There are so many good people out there amidst a world that is full of angry and hurting people,” Shannon said. “I just hope that my kids see that and they learn to just be grateful for what we do have, because I can guarantee there’s a lot of people worse off than us.”

Although Aria no longer clings to Shannon when she drops her off at school and Ace's fear of storms has subsided, a twinge of separation anxiety still lingers; both children are still unable to sleep without their mom, and both grow uneasy if she leaves for more than a couple of hours. 

“You just try to reassure them and keep them busy,” Shannon said. “Kids are resilient. They really are very strong.”

On a Thursday evening in August, just weeks before the family was expecting to move into their renovated home, Ace ran around the construction site in a Chewbacca costume, dodging loose tiles and hopping over spacers as if they were an obstacle course. A plank of wood that had been placed over the porch steps to wheel in supplies became his bike ramp, and the couch in the shed where his father slept was his trampoline.

He and Aria talked about what colors they’re going to paint their new bedrooms. Aria said she wanted glitter.

And Ace, who originally wanted black, said he'd made a final decision: rainbow.