FEMA rules challenge Pass-a-Grille's identity

Historic small town has survived killer storms. But the real threat comes after the rain.

July 9, 2008
Authorship
All of the fields about authorship.
Photos by: 
Alex Bordens
Copy editing by: 
Nina Mehta
Graphic by: 
Alex Bordens
Writing and reporting by: 
Travis Griggs
Graphics reporting by: 
Alex Bordens

Just south of the high-rise hotels, traffic and T-shirt shops of St. Pete Beach, Fla., a quirky little fishing village has managed to maintain its small-town charm.

Thirty-two blocks long and one block wide, Pass-a-Grille, Fla. stands in stark contrast to the high-density developments to the north. It has one stoplight, one bait shop, and two places to get breakfast. All are popular hangouts for the long-time residents who can be found exchanging stories and jokes on Main Street on any day of the week.

Multicolored fishing bungalows and eclectic shops have defined Pass-a-Grille for decades. Built for the barrier island environment, they have survived hurricanes that have decimated less prepared structures in St. Petersburg.

But in the last 10 years, increasing property values and federal flood regulations have created a different kind of storm, and the historic homes are disappearing one by one, to be replaced by multistory mansions.

“There’s still that Pass-a-Grille feel,” said real estate agent Frank Hurley, who also is chairman of the local historic preservation board. “But so many of the of the little cottages have disappeared.”

When Patsy McKoy opened a little art shop 35 years ago with her husband Ralph, land in Pass-a-Grille was so cheap “you couldn’t give it away,” she said. But things have changed since the couple started selling art from the 100-year-old bayside home.

Now they are asking $2 million for the one-story shop with a pea gravel lawn. McKoy said it’s worth the price because it’s zoned both residential and commercial and is at a prominent intersection.

“On the side streets, they’re getting $1 million just for a little old bungalow,” McCoy said.

Despite the national housing slump, four $1 million homes have been built in the last year, Hurley said. Properties on side streets with 1920s homes start at $689,000. Beachfront lots are all over $1 million.

Less than a decade ago, many of the same lots were appraised at around $200,000.

These skyrocketing land values are bringing a different type of resident into Pass-a-Grille, and $20,000 bungalows are being replaced with $1 million mansions.

“The prevailing view,” Hurley said, “has been that if you’re going to spend a lot of money on the place, you should be able to get all you can out of it.”

Despite being perched on a narrow barrier island, the historic homes of Pass-a-Grille have been relatively unscathed by tropical storms that have battered the coast.

When a tropical storm struck in 1921, the St. Petersburg Times assumed the island was a total loss. The headline: “Rumor Pass-a-Grille wiped out,” spanned the top of the front page and as many as 150 were estimated dead.

This came as a great surprise to Pass-a-Grille residents, who were forced to float down Main Street in rowboats, but were otherwise were no worse for the wear. The storm destroyed no homes, and no lives were lost.

The bungalows also remained intact through the 2004 storm season, which brought five named storms to the Florida coast and washed away 70 feet of Pass-a-Grille’s shoreline.

But the government regulations that came in the aftermath of the 2004 season are proving much more devastating.

The rules require that homes be elevated above potential storm surge levels before they can be repaired or remodeled. Lifting a house involves hoisting the entire structure with heavy equipment and building a new foundation beneath it. The expense of elevating a home is often greater than what the home is worth, with some projects costing $250,000 or more.

If homes aren’t brought up to code, they are unable to get federal flood insurance, which is only available to communities who follow the building guidelines.

“When it comes to floods, it’s FEMA’s game,” said Anne Marr, St. Pete Beach zoning administrator. “They own you, lock, stock and barrel, and if you don’t play ball with them, you get nothing.”

In the last decade, a handful of citizen groups and political action committees have formed with the goal of protecting the town’s identity. But if Pass-a-Grille is to survive, much of the effort will come from residents like Thomas and Gretchen Lennon, whose personal history is intertwined with that of Pass-a-Grille.

During her childhood, Gretchen’s family would leave their home in St. Petersburg, and drive out through the Pass-a-Grille pines to spend lazy days on the beach. She still remembers one white house that always caught her attention from its location just south of 32nd Avenue.

It was eclectic. It was unique. As a little girl, it was her favorite.

Several years later, Thomas and Gretchen had their first date in a little bayside house in Pass-a-Grille. They planned a day on the water, but when the boat wouldn’t start, they spent the day inside instead.

Back then, they could see breakers on the gulf from the upstairs windows.

The Lennons later married, and raised a family in St. Petersburg. But in 1991, after they became “empty nesters,” the Lennons returned to Pass-a-Grille. They bought the little house where they had their first date years earlier.

The house was built in 1934 by a boat captain, and was designed to withstand storms. It has been flooded twice since the Lennons moved in, but the only repair necessary was replacing the carpet. The walls are made of plywood that can resist floods without warping, and the electrical wires are located out of the storm surge’s reach.

The house isn’t perfect though. There’s not much space for visitors, and when their grandchildren come to visit, they have to sleep in a glassed-in sunroom behind the house. There’s not enough storage space either — a common complaint from the owners of Pass-a-Grille historical houses.

“I call it my 50-foot-wide postage stamp surrounded by sheds,” Gretchen Lennon said.

The old white house she admired in her childhood is gone. It was torn down sometime in the mid 1990s to make way for something newer. The view of the gulf is also gone. Now it’s obscured by the younger, taller homes across the street.

But the Lennons have no plans for major renovations. They are proud of their little bayside house. Last year, it was included in a historic home tour put on by the Pass-a-Grille women’s club. They bought new curtains to block the view of the sheds through the dining room windows.

Looking out at the bay from under the vaulted beams of their living room ceiling, other homes may be disappearing, but not this one.

The home is the Lennon’s history, and they’re keeping it just the way it is.

© 2008 Poynter Summer Fellowship
801 Third Street South
St. Petersburg, FL 33701
Phone (888) 769-6837