‘I couldn’t stop the water from coming in’: Two weeks after historic flood, Fort Lauderdale residents live in moldy homes, waiting for money

Last Thursday, Shamikah Delcine’s 5-year-old son asked her, “Mommy, are we going to live in a hotel?”

The 33-year-old mother of three is still living in the rental home off Sistrunk Boulevard that flooded two weeks ago. The only assistance she has received so far, she said, is water from a local church.

In the aftermath of the storm that swept Fort Lauderdale underwater, flood victims are waiting for help as they face new emergencies: layoffs, evictions, and the insurmountable costs of housing and repairs that they can’t afford by themselves.

They are Broward’s municipal workers, bankers, nursing assistants, first responders, and teachers. Rather than becoming homeless, they are living in moldy, deteriorating houses. Many of those who rent their homes still have not heard from their landlords, while others face imminent eviction. Still others have lost their jobs. They are turning to help from nonprofits, churches and synagogues, relying on the kindness of neighbors, or strangers on fundraising sites like GoFundMe, hoping that, when it comes, government money will solve their problems.

Delcine’s nonprofit job teaching other people’s 2-year-old kids does not pay her enough to recover. While there, she blocks out thoughts of her stresses at home.

“The kids, they need me, so I don’t let it get in the way,” she said. “I just do my best to try not to think about it during the day.”

When Delcine leaves, she returns to the place where, two weeks ago, she used blankets, sheets, towels, and comforters as barriers while her home continued to flood. All are ruined.

“I couldn’t stop the water from coming in,” she said. “I had to use everything I had to stop the water.”

Residents wait for FEMA

With mold growing in their walls and on their ruined furniture, flood victims are waiting for money from the Federal Emergency Management Agency to start rolling in so they can move out or begin repairs. But even when it comes, it may not be enough.

In a letter sent to the White House Tuesday requesting aid from FEMA, Gov. Ron DeSantis’ office documented the sheer cost of the damage to residents of Broward County.

The flooding caused over $100 million worth of damage, with over 1,000 homes receiving major damage and over 250 with minor damage. Over 50 businesses reported nearly 250 temporary and permanent layoffs.

The “event resulted in historic flooding in areas not ever before seen in Broward County,” the letter said.

Dawn Beemer’s two neighbors in the Lauder Lakes manufactured home community have nowhere to go since their home flooded. At first, they stayed in the shelter in Holiday Park, but began to feel unsafe there, she said. The shelter has since closed.

Now, all three are staying together at Beemer’s mother’s house in the same community, which incurred less damage in the flooding. Many of their neighbors have not been so lucky. Some have “literally just walked away,” Beemer said. Others are stuck, with no money to afford repairs.

“Some are just saying ‘screw it, we’re waiting ‘til FEMA comes in,’” she said, “We’ll let mold go to the ceiling; we don’t have funding to do anything.”

The timeline for when that aid might come is still unclear. But even if it does come, officials are warning residents not to rely on it.

The average FEMA payout for a Florida resident is about $4,000, Kevin Guthrie, director of the Florida Division of Emergency Management division, told the South Florida Sun Sentinel last week. The maximum is about $37,000.

“I think we need to start fielding expectations,” he said, adding, “37,000 is probably not going to make them whole.”

Flood victims rely on strangers, coworkers for rental assistance

Realizing that trying to save his furniture was a losing battle and unable to sleep, Pedro Stiassni sat in his dark, flooded house with his flashlight and his phone two weeks ago and opened up GoFundMe.

“I had nothing to do,” he said. His girlfriend, who he lives with, was on vacation.

Stiassni, a project manager for the City of Margate utilities department, is one of dozens of flood victims using public fundraisers to support themselves, without enough money of their own or any other form of assistance. He joins students raising money for their teachers, firefighters trying to support one another, a pregnant woman who just left her job, and a mother trying to help her son with autism.

Stiassni saw others posting their own fundraisers, and figured he could do it too. His fundraiser has since raised more than $7,500, much of which came from fellow employees with the City of Margate after the city shared his page in an internal email. But Stiassni says it is not enough.

The only time he heard from his landlord in the last two weeks, he said, was when he posted an eviction notice on the door six days after the flooding began.

“Other than that, he has not come to the house to see any of the damage, inspect it or see if we need help with anything,” Stiassni said.

The removal of furniture and drywall for repairs necessitate the eviction, the letter said.

The “landlord cannot make these repairs while you live in the premises,” the letter said, adding, “the landlord certainly does not want you to have any health concerns caused by this unforeseen flooding.”

Stiassni said that he would have been willing to stay in the house while repairs were ongoing, moving out of each room as they worked, though that would have made the repairs take longer.

Now, he and his girlfriend have less than 30 days to find somewhere else to live in South Florida that will accept them and their two Great Danes and then come up with first and last month’s rent and a security deposit.

“It’s going to be impossible for us to find a new place either to rent or buy with the time he’s given us,” Stiassni said.

People have been telling him to give his dogs away, or even send them to the pound. That’s not an option, Stiassni said. He doesn’t want to look outside South Florida, either. An immigrant from Venezuela, he originally moved to Kentucky for school. In Florida, he finally feels at home.

“I know it’s a very hard time and I really don’t wish anybody, even my worst enemy, to go through something like this,” Stiassni said. “... I don’t have to replace everything I lost all at once. But I want to call Florida my place.”

Nonprofits and charities offer lifeline

After a hard couple of days at work, Octavia Saulsberry lay down in her bed in downtown Fort Lauderdale, just for an hour, until she had to get up again to cook dinner for her teenager and two toddlers. The thunder and rain lulled her to sleep.

When she got up, she stepped in something wet. She thought one of the toddlers had spilled some juice. It wasn’t until she turned on the lights that she realized her home was flooded.

Alone, the 32-year old single mother stayed up until 5 a.m. trying to clean the house, her furniture, tables, vacuums and mops all soaked in dirty water. She sent a maintenance request to her landlord with pictures of the damage, but nearly two weeks later, she still had received no response.

Saulsberry sends her children to Jack & Jill Center, an organization that provides education and social services to families in need. Since the flooding, she has relied on them more than ever.

“I have no help at all, no family,” she said. “I’m just out here working and taking care of my children. My family is Jack & Jill, to be honest. That’s the reason I can go to work.”

Residents like Saulsberry and the local and state governments are turning to nonprofits and faith-based organizations for much of the recovery work.

Guthrie said that faith-based organizations, which he calls the “Bible Belt,” will likely play a key role in recovery. Out-of-state organizations like the Christian charity Samaritan’s Purse have already arrived in Fort Lauderdale to help people clear debris and remove damaged drywall and flooring.

But most of the aid offered by these nonprofits will come in the form of repair work or necessities, Guthrie said, not money.

Jack & Jill is currently asking for monetary donations and supplies like diapers and furniture. The organization has a fund that helps families if a car breaks down or they get behind on rent, said Heather Siskind, the center’s C.E.O, but “this is way beyond our scope.”

About 40 of the 75 families Jack & Jill had checked on by Friday were affected in some way. Many of them are still living in homes contaminated by the flooding, said Siskind, with no transportation because their cars were destroyed. Others had to move into hotels.

“The worst part is that they may be with landlords that are not being responsive, or they don’t have the right insurance, don’t have renters insurance, or they have car insurance that’s the bare minimum that doesn’t cover a casualty like this,” Siskind said.

The center’s teachers and staff are in the same boat as the people they serve.

“They’re teachers working at a nonprofit agency,” Siskind said. “They’re exactly like our families.”

Delcine, the mother of three, is one of them. Her roof is leaking and she is worried that mold is beginning to grow inside her home. But she hasn’t heard from her rental company besides a message that they are overwhelmed with complaints from other tenants.

Most immediately, she has to find new bedding and children’s clothes. But what she truly needs is something she can’t afford.

“I would like a new home, but I don’t know how far I’m going to get,” she said. “That is what I need the most. I would like a new home.”

Staff writer Shira Moolten can be reached at smoolten@SunSentinel.com