© SCOTT CLAUSE/USA TODAY NetworkEdison Dardar works on a porch railing damaged by Hurricane Barry on Isle de Jean Charles on Monday, Sept. 16, 2019.ISLE DE JEAN CHARLES, La.
![]()
— It’s all but assumed this island will one day disappear beneath the waves.Perhaps the water will only cover the road, leaving Isle de Jean Charles a Venetian ghost town in Cajun country. Maybe the water will rise higher, or the island will sink lower, and only rooftops will be visible to passing boats and those wondering what used to be here.By then, those who could say will no longer be around to tell. At least, that’s the plan.The state of Louisiana is three years into an ambitious $48 million plan to move Isle de Jean Charles residents northward onto the mainland. Most are French-speaking members of the Isle de Jean Charles Band of Biloxi-Chitimacha-Choctaw Tribe, a group of interrelated and indigenous descendants of tribes whose ancestors fled the Trail of Tears and found refuge in the bayous.Since 1955, they've seen the island shrink from 22,000 acres to 320, a loss of 98 percent. Barrier marshland responsible for keeping floodwaters low withered away. Mink and muskrat traps now turn up empty on these ancestral hunting grounds.Land loss and higher storm surges led to an exodus of residents. After Hurricane Barry, more abandoned houses than ever dot the landscape, and it's estimated that less than 50 still reside where a community of 400 once thrived. Those remaining on Isle de Jean Charles have been dubbed the nation's first climate change refugees, a title many in the tribe dislike despite the attention it's garnered their cause.“Starting in the '70s and '80s, as storms come in and go out, so do the people,” said Chantel Comardelle, secretary for the Biloxi-Chitimacha-Choctaw Tribe. “And we’ve noticed a transition away from cultural traditions and a disconnect as a tribal community.
If that continues, the culture is lost.”Since the topic of resettlement was first broached 20 years ago, Isle de Jean Charles has been the subject of numerous articles, climate change reports, and books. It also inspired the 2012 film 'Beasts of the Southern Wild.' Now the world is watching as Louisiana undertakes its first-ever attempt at climate change-fueled resettlement.The state has purchased a sugar cane field 40 miles north as the site of the new community, and Louisiana's Office of Community Development (OCD) has spent the past two years asking residents what would make a federally-funded housing community feel more personal.' We not only want to help carry that culture and sense of community up to the new location.
Country Road News. “Prairie Island Tribe Seeks Action on Nuclear Waste.
We want it to be so it attracts folks back who had to leave before,' said Pat Forbes, the executive director of OCD, which applied for the grant with participation from the tribe.Many hope this will provide a blueprint for the future as rising seas are projected to advance upon more low-lying communities. Louisianians learn in grade school that, on average, a football field of coast is devoured every hour by the hungry tide. In 2013, the NOAA wiped 31 place names from their Louisiana charts. They were placed in the 'historical' category. But the more Naquin considered the idea, the more it appealed to him.Naquin fled Isle de Jean Charles in 1975 after losing a second home to floodwater. The tribe estimates that 700 of its members are now scattered across south Louisiana.What if Naquin led the charge for a new home? One where every member of the tribe was welcome, where old traditions could be made new away from the greedy arm of the Gulf.There would be a community center with a museum to teach future generations about their ancestors.
There would be a store like the one his grandfather used to own on the island where his cousin would play Hank Williams tunes. Sales would support the older members, some of whom live on social security and can't afford mainland property tax, utilities or insurance.That was what Naquin envisioned. When the state received $48 million from the Department of Housing and Urban Development, Naquin thought he had saved his culture and reunited his people.Three years later, he no longer believes that.After more than a decade spent convincing island residents to flee for higher ground, Comardelle said the tribe 'is no longer participating' in the resettlement process, and the chief said he is 'proud' of those who want to stay.' I want them to stay,' Naquin said. 'We're not getting what we bargained for. The state took it over and it was supposed to be a model community with a community center with child care, elderly care. A lot of activities so kids can play in a safe environment.
![]()
But all that kind of got shoved in a hole and we can't get it out. It's very disappointing, actually. I'm very depressed.' © SCOTT CLAUSE/USA TODAY NetworkRumors of outsiders offering to buy Isle De Jean Charles camps has prompted some to put up signs such as this.A chief’s vision versus a state’s planThe rift between the state and the tribe formed after the relocation grant was awarded. The OCD discovered that not all occupants of Isle de Jean Charles belonged to Naquin's tribe.A few residents are members of the United Houma Tribe, and one resident is not affiliated with any tribe.While Naquin insists the plan had never been to exclude any island residents, federal law prohibits discrimination against anyone in the building of a housing project, and the state's publicity of the project became less about the Biloxi-Chitimacha-Choctaw Tribe and more about those who lived on the island since Hurricane Isaac struck in 2012.
SUBSCRIBE:Those who met that requirement would get a house in the new community. For anyone who once lived on the island, a lot will be provided as long as they can afford to build a house on the property.In Forbes' mind, the mission had never changed. A threatened community would be rescued from the coast. Those who wanted to stay on Isle de Jean Charles can stay. And the new settlement's vacant lots offered an opportunity for reunion that's been a long time coming.' If we wanted to just move people out of harm's way, we would follow the standard model of buyouts and just give everybody money to buy a house somewhere,' Forbes said. 'HUD wouldn't have given us money for that.
People have done that 1,000 times. What they gave us money for was to not only get folks out of harm's way, but to figure out how to do that in a way that not only helps them maintain the culture of the island, but really start to build it back to what it was before.' © Contributed by Isle de Jean Charles Band of Biloxi-Chitimacha-Choctaw TribeAn Indian house made of mud and palmetto in Fa La, Louisiana. The Isle de Jean Charles Band of Biloxi-Chitimacha-Choctaw Tribe says their early homes were similarly constructed.And the state has already been able to apply the lessons learned in the Isle de Jean Charles resettlement. Since plans for the Schriever community began, the state has begun a buyout program for the Pecan Acres community in Pointe Coupee Parish, which has flooded 17 times since the subdivision was built in the late 1970s.
All 40 households will move to a new community together. Another perennially flooding community, Silver Leaf in Ascension Parish, is also being relocated.' Isle de Jean Charles is a much bigger objective of trying to reconstitute that community to its own population, culture, sense of community.
They have shrunk a great deal. We're trying to build a community that is big enough, vibrant enough and has economic opportunities close enough that we can have people coming back to the community,' Forbes said.Naquin and Forbes' goals sound the same. And yet, the chief is convinced his dream of reuniting his tribe in a homestead chosen by his people and for his people has been dashed.Twenty-three families have agreed to move to the settlement, which won't be completed for a few more hurricane seasons. Until then, OCD has used some of the funds to pay for temporary housing for 22 households. Seven families have accepted state assistance, but will build elsewhere rather than live in the planned community.
If the state fails to convince enough current and former Isle de Jean Charles residents to fill the lots, they will be opened to the general public.' It's not the material thing.
It's the visiting. It's the family ties we used to have that we don't have anymore,' Naquin said. 'We were trying to get together.
And the way the state has it is just going to split us apart more than we are now.' My vision was too great, I guess. Not realistic.' Why is Isle de Jean Charles disappearing?What’s nextThe design phase is not expected to be completed until late spring and will be followed by the bidding and building phases.The state expects to send out lawyers over the summer to explain to residents their legal obligations should they move to the new settlement.
And here's where the challenges begin for a community that is poor by mainland standards but has historically had little need for money.Most Isle de Jean Charles residents don't pay property taxes, due to the low property value, or flood insurance. Those who accept a house from the state will have to pay both.Forbes said the state is calculating the change in cost of living and is working to find ways to offset new costs with solar panels or energy efficient housing designs, adding, 'You have to make sure they can afford to live in a new place.' © Contributed by Isle de Jean Charles Band of Biloxi-Chitimacha-Choctaw TribeIsland Road is the only road connecting Isle de Jean Charles to the mainland. ‘This is my home’Pushing his bike down Island Road, one hand carrying a bucket and a cast net, Edison Dardar sees no danger.Dardar was born on the island. He made a living catching shrimp from these waters, though he now only catches enough for his family and his cat. His surname goes back centuries, appearing on headstones in the island's lone cemetery and in post-hurricane newspaper clippings, where a Terry Dardar tells a reporter, 'I ain't moving.
I been living here all my life.' It's a mantra Dardar has adopted, even as more lots go empty around him. © SCOTT CLAUSE/USA TODAY NetworkIsle de Jean Charles resident Edison Dardar casts his net for shrimp. A retired fisherman, seafood is still integral to life on the island and hearkens back to how residents sustained themselves before a road connected them to the mainland.' Why am I going to leave a good place to live in a place I don't know nothing?
This is my home. Fish when I want. Holler if I want to holler. They have no shrimp, fish or crabs in their backyard. I do,' Dardar said.It doesn't matter if he's approached by government or God. Dardar is content being one of a handful of residents who will not be moved.
He doesn't believe the island is shrinking, and he's unphased by the thought he might be wrong.Three times Dardar’s house has not been where he left it.In 1992, Hurricane Andrew pushed the house off its three-foot risers and into the middle of the road. Before that, Hurricane Camille put the home he built next to his neighbor’s.“We came back, jacked it up. We put it back on the block,” Dardar said.There has always been a place to put it back.Two months ago, Dardar vowed not to leave his home as Hurricane Barry lumbered close to shore. The next day, Dardar found himself hanging from a Coast Guard helicopter, watching his island sink beneath the eight-foot surge.Again, he was able to return.But even as that becomes less of a guarantee, Dardar is content to enjoy Isle de Jean Charles until the ocean swallows it whole.On this particular morning, Dardar is working to repair a porch railing damaged by Barry.
The storm swept away his front steps and shook most of the unripe persimmons from his tree, but otherwise, his house is still safe on its 12-foot stilts.' When I need insurance on a 12-foot house, then it's time to go,' Dardar said.As is his routine, Dardar eventually stops working, grabs his bucket, climbs onto his bike, and pedals to the dock where he tosses his cast net every day.As he nears the road leading into the island, he passes a clock tacked to a utility post. It features a portrait of The Last Supper above the clock face, and the hands have stopped ticking.' Nobody knows when Isle de Jean Charles is going to go. Only God knows that,' Dardar said. “I got a grandpa buried in the cemetery over there.
That’s my dream. This is my home.”News tips? Call reporter Andrew Yawn at 334-240-0121 or email him at [email protected]. Climate collision: Loss and survival in a changing worldAcross America, the jobs and traditions, cultural touchstones and ways of living that have defined our communities are changing fast.A warming planet is reordering how we live and how we see ourselves. It’s putting our homelands and historic sites underwater, disrupting how we harvest crops, catch fish and raise livestock.
It’s raising our risks of diseases and disrupting how we run our businesses and cities.As the planet changes, Americans are changing with it. Some will reinvent old ways to survive in a new world. Others won’t have time, or space, to adapt.
Their livelihoods, histories and homes will become the climate’s casualties.All year, the USA TODAY Network explores America, from its inundated coasts to its peaks of melting snow, to reveal these stories of change. These are the climate’s casualties — and its survivors.This story was published in partnership with, your source for journalism that exposes the wrongs and celebrates what’s right about the region.This article originally appeared on The American South.
Island Tribe is a perfect game to play on your device that combines a well balanced mix of strategy, time management, and adventure into one package!You find yourself on a mysterious island in the middle of the ocean inhabited by a forgotten tribe. The islanders lived a carefree and quiet life and everything seemed to be perfect until one day a great volcano woke up. As the sky spewed lava and ash, the villagers abandoned their homes and ran for their lives! Help the settlers reach the ocean before the great volcano strikes its final blow in Island Tribe, a fun strategy game!Make all haste you can! Escape from a doomed island!JOIN US!Enjoy Realore Games at: us on Facebook: us on Twitter: Policy: http://realore.com/appprivacypolicy.php. Island Tribe is a perfect game to play on your device that combines a well balanced mix of strategy, time management, and adventure into one package!You find yourself on a mysterious island in the middle of the ocean inhabited by a forgotten tribe. The islanders lived a carefree and quiet life and everything seemed to be perfect until one day a great volcano woke up.
As the sky spewed lava and ash, the villagers abandoned their homes and ran for their lives! Help the settlers reach the ocean before the great volcano strikes its final blow in Island Tribe, a fun strategy game!Make all haste you can! Escape from a doomed island!JOIN US!Enjoy Realore Games at: us on Facebook: us on Twitter: Policy: more.
![]() Comments are closed.
|
AuthorWrite something about yourself. No need to be fancy, just an overview. Archives
March 2023
Categories |