A community ripped apart
Eastern Shore: Isabel didn't just ruin Hoopersville's homes -- it struck the remote island's only link to the outside world.
Large heaps of storm debris sit idle in Hoopersville. The Eastern Shore town's causeway must be repaired before trucks can remove the mess. (Sun photo by Doug Kapustin / October 6, 2003)
Residents trying to dry out their homes must hurry to get here before the damaged bridge is shut down for repairs for seven hours each day - and be sure they don't need anything at the hardware store that might as well be hundreds of miles away.
It has now been more than two weeks since the wind, rain and surging tides invaded this rural swath of the Eastern Shore. Some homes are condemned; others await a ruling. The water and muck no longer slosh along the old oak floors, but many of those floors have buckled and may be beyond repair.
Rippons Brothers Seafood, one of the island's crab houses, reopened Wednesday - finally giving its workers a chance to start earning money again and giving watermen a place to sell their catches.
But the people of tiny Hoopersville are realizing that normal may be an impossible place for them to return to.
"I've never seen anything like this. Daddy hasn't either. He remembers [Tropical Storm] Hazel," said Janet R. Ruark, who manages the Rippons' crab house and is one of four generations of her family who live here. "The people on the island are devastated."
Many of the old-timers say this one was even worse than the storm of 1933, which left the bottom third of Hoopers Island uninhabitable. Hoopers Island is actually a chain of three islands, Fishing Creek to the north, Hoopersville in the center and Applegarth to the south.
The story of Hoopersville is being repeated all over low-lying southern Dorchester County, one of the state's poorest, with 30,000 residents spread over a giant landmass.
Many people on the island didn't have flood insurance. And those who did are finding it doesn't cover the contents of their homes. Many are elderly, living on fixed incomes, without a clue what they will do.
Officials estimate the damage could reach $40 million. The county will probably spend $500,000 for overtime, for hauling debris and more. That's money it doesn't have, said Thomas A. Flowers, a county councilman.
"It's endless," Flowers said. "The minute you say, 'I think I've got a handle on it,' you don't have a handle on it."
The people of Hoopersville go back many generations. Almost everyone is related to everyone else in some way. And almost everyone makes their living off the water. That's why there has been so much suffering - at the end of an already difficult crab season, they have lost nearly a month of work, time spent taking the boats and crab pots out of the water as Isabel approached and time spent putting everything back.
Even as they returned to the water - and better crabbing than usual, thanks to the storm - they had trouble finding a market for their catch. The crab houses have only been open sporadically and, with the road closed, they couldn't easily take what they had further inland.
The power is back on in Hoopersville, but many people lost their washers and dryers, their refrigerators and their furnaces to the water. Many of the 67 homes are without stoves, which is why the American Red Cross spent two weeks serving two hot meals a day on Hoopers Island.
"Some of them have no gas for their stoves still," said the Rev. Joseph Kelly, pastor of the Hosier Memorial Church in Fishing Creek and Hoopers Memorial Church in Hoopersville. "Some of them have no appliances and have no money for appliances."
The church bought 20 heaters for people, which were snapped up quickly when overnight temperatures started dipping into the unseasonable 30s. They could probably use more, Kelly said.
Kelly is new to the ministry. The two churches are his first assignment. He arrived July 1. One of his two churches is now condemned, after water poured through the Hoopersville building, damaging the foundation and pulling the pews out of the floor. But not one of the brightly colored stained glass windows was broken.
Here, perhaps more than anywhere, the church is what brings people together. More than 90 percent of the island's residents are congregants.
"The morning after the storm, everyone didn't say, 'What about my house?'" Kelly recalled. "They said, 'What about the church?'"