ABOUT THIS ARTICLE: This Sunday centerpiece is both a business and human-interest story. It's a snapshot of the lives of people struggling to get over their drug addiction while lamenting the closing of the place that turned them onto the path towards recovery -- a closing that represents a business trend in the treatment of addicts. Of my own articles, this is my favorite; I got to observe and talk to these people for a while, and their candor is not something I've ever been able to find to quite the same extent.
THE ROANOKE TIMES
January 21, 2007
Last chance at life
Roanoke's longtime "home of last resort" for hard-core drug addicts will close its doors in May.
By Ana Ribeiro
As Roxanne Sargent lay down on a massage table, completely relaxed, the whole world stayed outside the therapy room.
Suddenly, it came rushing in.
"He was going to kill me and rape me," she groaned, reliving a night in the woods more than a decade ago, when she barely escaped an attacker.
Therapist Diane Elliot moved her hands under Sargent's back and gently prodded her to describe memories the touch brought forth. Sargent, 40, screamed and writhed as she remembered sexual abuse she experienced as a little girl, from her stepfather.
Meanwhile, downstairs in Hegira House's living room, several people sat and talked openly about their turbulent pasts. Like Sargent, they're facing painful issues stemming from drug addiction. They must dig deep inside to find what led them to drug abuse in the first place, and rebuild their self-image.
They're all residents of the long-term drug treatment center, which opened in Roanoke in 1973. Blue Ridge Behavioral Healthcare, the organization that runs Hegira, will close the facility in May. Hegira's 12-person staff and its annual $295,000 federal grant will go into outpatient treatment.
'House of miracles'
By the time the program ends, Hegira's 20 current residents will have graduated, but their attachment to the three-story white house on Patterson Avenue and the people in it will last a long time.
They are long-term addicts who've failed to kick their habits in other treatment programs, and have been in jail or prison. Some are finishing sentences at the house. Many feel Hegira is their last chance in life.
The residents have taken news of the closing pretty hard. They see other patients and staff as family, and the house as a safe place they can return to in times of temptation.
"[With Hegira,] I know I'm not alone in this big city, in this big world," said Sargent, a recovering cocaine addict who is expected to graduate in February.
"I've been in and out of jail since I was 18 years old," said recent Hegira graduate Michelle Hess, 26. "In my heart, I honestly believe that if I hadn't come through here, I would be dead now. ... I call this 'the house of miracles.' "
She entered Hegira in November 2005 upon her release from state prison. A recovering crack and OxyContin addict, Hess said she started using drugs at age 9, after being raped by a teenage boy.
She recounted important lessons she learned at Hegira. Those ranged from simple arithmetic to how to live with other people, love herself and deal with the grief of being raped. She now wants to work on mending her relationship with her mother and getting custody of her four children.
"This place is magic. ... It changed everything about my life," said Angela Smith, 38, who had used various drugs and been in a state prison before entering and graduating from Hegira in 2003. Now she supervises 14 people at Goodwill Industries of the Valleys.
"I became employable. It helped me realize I was worth so much more than what I had been giving myself. I learned to get what I needed without stealing it. ... My family now trusts me."
One of the toughest
Hegira, a word with both Arabic and Latin roots, means "journey from a dangerous place." It refers to the forced departure from Mecca of the Prophet Muhammad and his followers in 622.
Above the house's fireplace hangs a drawing that depicts dark, somber alleys leading to an illuminated Hegira House in the back.
It has earned a reputation as one of the toughest drug treatment facilities in the state. Botetourt County Commonwealth's Attorney Joel Branscom said some convicts have told him they'd rather go back to jail than live at Hegira.
Hegira's philosophy is based on the "therapeutic community" model first adopted in the 1960s in New York and California. Adult residents live in a structured, self-contained society for four to six months while they develop responsibility and social skills. They perform tasks such as cooking, cleaning and working the reception desk, being promoted by merit.
They are also able to secure jobs in the private sector or in Hegira Works, an in-house janitorial services company. And they're eligible for various forms of healing, such as the touch therapy Sargent received on the massage table.
Hegira was the first program among eight or nine in Virginia to adopt that model, said Ken Batten, a director with the Virginia Department of Mental Health, Mental Retardation and Substance Abuse Services.
Several other programs remain, but Hegira is the last therapeutic community in Virginia to receive federal funding, according to Gail Burruss, Blue Ridge Behavioral's director of adult clinical services.
Over the years, Hegira has shown a high success rate. A 2003 study noted that 74 percent of graduates remained drug-free for three years after they left the program, said Kevin Lynch, a counselor at the house.
Although 70-percent-plus success rates are not unheard-of in residential programs, "most short-term programs don't have that success rate," Batten said. "You don't make those sorts of life changes in short-term residential care."
A question of resources
Money, resources and demand for drug treatment in the Roanoke Valley are at the root of the decision to close Hegira.
The house costs a little less than $600,000 annually to operate, said Eddie Blair, its program coordinator. About half of that comes from a Department of Corrections contract that funds 14 beds for prison inmates from all over the state.
Ending the contract will still leave the federal grant of about $300,000. That will be used to expand outpatient services and treat an additional 126 Roanoke Valley substance abusers each year, Burruss said.
"We have to serve our community by using our resources in the most effective and efficient way," she said.
Hegira's closing highlights a trend in drug treatment in Virginia, Batten said. High expenses leave long-term residential programs increasingly unable to sustain themselves.
The trend is further reflected in actual patients. From 2005 to 2006, the number of people served by residential drug treatment in Virginia dropped by more than half, from 10,490 to 5,238, according to the Department of Mental Health, Mental Retardation and Substance Abuse Services. Meanwhile, the number of people in outpatient drug treatment increased from 64,845 to 66,031.
Those numbers are little comfort to Hegira residents, or its staff. They argue that less intensive, shorter-term treatments don't always work for many addicts.
Branscom, the Botetourt prosecutor, would agree.
"We have a plethora of 90-day programs that ... don't seem to get the job done," said Branscom, whose sister is a counselor at Hegira. "Hegira can actually help them, and I haven't seen that in other programs."
Burruss argued that the success of substance abuse treatment has more to do with the time patients spend in programs than with whether they actually live in a treatment facility. Blue Ridge Behavioral will use the federal funds no longer needed by Hegira to send addicts into outpatient substance abuse programs immediately after they leave jail. Currently, they need to wait at least a month to enter an outpatient program, Burruss said.
Hegira staff who are redirected into outpatient treatment will be bringing the experience they gained at Hegira and adjusting the intensity of the outpatient treatment as needed, Burruss noted.
"Transitions are very, very difficult for people who are in need of services, people who finish up a detoxification," Burruss said. "This way, they'll have their own customized treatment."
Getting humbler
Like others who have fought drug dependency, Vinnie Dabney, a former heroin addict who graduated Hegira in 1999, strongly favors long-term inpatient treatment.
"There's a scarcity of those, not only in the state, but in this country," said Dabney, 54, a counselor at Family Service of Roanoke Valley. He also sits on Blue Ridge Behavioral's board of directors.
Dabney was cocky and arrogant and had a long history of arrests when he entered Hegira House. His six-month stay taught him to be humbler and more in touch with reality, he said.
He remembers Hegira's living room fireplace as a kind of altar used to help redefine residents' poor self-images. Whoever committed an infraction -- be it a sexual comment, fight or act of negligence -- stood in front of the fireplace as patients and staff confronted the violator.
The confrontation continued until the behavior was corrected. But hard work never ended while Dabney was there. He recalled replanting grass, painting inside and out, installing a new electrical system, changing carpets and sanding furniture during renovations for the Patterson Avenue house.
"It [Hegira] gave me things to do in terms of the structure; it allowed me to put things together and not be concerned with keeping up an image," Dabney said. "It takes you away from the stresses of daily life and allows you to focus on yourself. ... It's sad to think other people [after Hegira's closing] won't have the same opportunities that I had."
After the massage
Roxanne Sargent, who moved into Hegira in August, has found that self-confidence. She's also found an outside job. She said she keeps "praying a miracle will happen and this [Hegira] won't close, because a lot of men and women need this."
As she stood up from the massage table after her intense therapy session, her face was smeared with tears. She sniffled and felt her sinuses clear.
She'd begun to let go of the stress and pain she'd held in for years, both in her mind and body. She hugged her therapist, Elliot, for a long while and thanked her.
Elliot insisted that Sargent should thank herself above all, "for the courage and willingness to do this work."
"I feel young and I feel free," Sargent said. "The child that was taken from me, I have it back."
Thursday, May 15, 2008
Algae as biofuel
ABOUT THIS ARTICLE: I found out from a source at the local community college that these professors had come up with certain techniques and environments to be used for growing algae and extracting fuel from it. I thought it was a noteworthy local development in the biofuel trend, so I went for it, and out came this Sunday story...
WILMINGTON STAR-NEWS
January 13, 2008
BCC has a slimy solution for fuel supply
By Ana Ribeiro
The answer to the world's energy problems could eventually be found in a slimy little plant.
The little plant, in turn, could be found right now, sprawling across your aquarium.
It's algae. It's better known as a fast-multiplying nuisance than as something that could, if large industrial production is feasible, create a virtually inexhaustible energy source.
Brunswick Community College has caught on to that and is about to begin research into algae as a source of biofuel, or fuel made from plant material.
You might have heard of waste vegetable oil feeding truck engines, leaving a trail that smells like french fries. That trail could come to smell like algae, since the oil that comes from the plant also can produce biodiesel.
Algae culturing has the advantages of taking up a lot less space than growing crops for biodiesel, as it can be grown vertically, and of not competing with the food industry, said Michelle Sabaoun, head of BCC's biotech program.
"It wouldn't have any impact on food oil prices," Sabaoun said.
Several tanks recently rolled onto BCC's campus, purchased with money from the N.C. Community College BioNetwork, which has given the college more than $200,000 in grants toward its biotech program. The 60-gallon tanks will soon be filled with algae, as the beginning of BCC's research of the water plant as a source of biofuel, said Kim Jones, who teaches chemistry and writes grants for BCC.
By fall, the tanks will be ready for biotech and aquaculture students to use in their labs, she said.
Although BCC does not intend to become a full-blown research institution, the biofuel endeavor ties into the school's mission to develop a qualified local work force, said its president, Stephen Greiner.
"It leads to possible training for our students, which could lead to jobs," Greiner said, adding that BCC has the expertise and is located in an ideal area for the algae biofuel research.
Dependence on foreign oil, the pollution generated by fossil fuels and the fact they are a finite energy source have been mounting concerns in the United States. Research has not yet found an economically feasible option to replace that on a large scale, but biofuels are a possibility.
In North Carolina, BCC is joining an initiative, ratified by state law, whose goal is to have locally grown and produced biofuels make up 10 percent of liquid fuels sold here by 2017.
With that in mind, the state is sponsoring biofuel research, and energy companies are also seeking to invest, Jones said.
Jones said she and Sabaoun have asked Brunswick Electric Membership Corp. for $56,000 to purchase a small processor to convert oil extracted from algae in BCC's tanks into biodiesel. They intend to include students in the biofuel production process, as hands-on experience for them, and to provide an alternative source of fuel for BCC's vehicles, Sabaoun said.
Separate from that, the two women are asking the local electric company for a bigger chunk of money: $588,000 to build algae tanks at the Oak Island wastewater treatment plant. Town officials have shown interest in the concept, Jones said, and she is now waiting to hear from Brunswick Electric.
"We'd like to start a large project of growing algae in industrial quantities and extract the oils from it," then selling it to companies that would want to mass-produce biofuel, Jones said.
The Oak Island plant would have appropriate space for tanks where treated wastewater could be used to grow algae, Sabaoun said.
To begin research for the project, Jones and Sabaoun said they started a company with out-of-pocket money and are growing algae in Jones' front yard in Southport.
Jones said she is researching three species of algae to see if they can survive in cold weather; so far, they are doing well through the temperature changes.
Jones and Sabaoun hope the company will lead to much bigger things.
"Wouldn't it be a wonderful vision to have every wastewater treatment facility ... growing algae for oil to produce biodiesel?" Jones said. "To make that happen would require a lot of collaboration from across the board."
WILMINGTON STAR-NEWS
January 13, 2008
BCC has a slimy solution for fuel supply
By Ana Ribeiro
The answer to the world's energy problems could eventually be found in a slimy little plant.
The little plant, in turn, could be found right now, sprawling across your aquarium.
It's algae. It's better known as a fast-multiplying nuisance than as something that could, if large industrial production is feasible, create a virtually inexhaustible energy source.
Brunswick Community College has caught on to that and is about to begin research into algae as a source of biofuel, or fuel made from plant material.
You might have heard of waste vegetable oil feeding truck engines, leaving a trail that smells like french fries. That trail could come to smell like algae, since the oil that comes from the plant also can produce biodiesel.
Algae culturing has the advantages of taking up a lot less space than growing crops for biodiesel, as it can be grown vertically, and of not competing with the food industry, said Michelle Sabaoun, head of BCC's biotech program.
"It wouldn't have any impact on food oil prices," Sabaoun said.
Several tanks recently rolled onto BCC's campus, purchased with money from the N.C. Community College BioNetwork, which has given the college more than $200,000 in grants toward its biotech program. The 60-gallon tanks will soon be filled with algae, as the beginning of BCC's research of the water plant as a source of biofuel, said Kim Jones, who teaches chemistry and writes grants for BCC.
By fall, the tanks will be ready for biotech and aquaculture students to use in their labs, she said.
Although BCC does not intend to become a full-blown research institution, the biofuel endeavor ties into the school's mission to develop a qualified local work force, said its president, Stephen Greiner.
"It leads to possible training for our students, which could lead to jobs," Greiner said, adding that BCC has the expertise and is located in an ideal area for the algae biofuel research.
Dependence on foreign oil, the pollution generated by fossil fuels and the fact they are a finite energy source have been mounting concerns in the United States. Research has not yet found an economically feasible option to replace that on a large scale, but biofuels are a possibility.
In North Carolina, BCC is joining an initiative, ratified by state law, whose goal is to have locally grown and produced biofuels make up 10 percent of liquid fuels sold here by 2017.
With that in mind, the state is sponsoring biofuel research, and energy companies are also seeking to invest, Jones said.
Jones said she and Sabaoun have asked Brunswick Electric Membership Corp. for $56,000 to purchase a small processor to convert oil extracted from algae in BCC's tanks into biodiesel. They intend to include students in the biofuel production process, as hands-on experience for them, and to provide an alternative source of fuel for BCC's vehicles, Sabaoun said.
Separate from that, the two women are asking the local electric company for a bigger chunk of money: $588,000 to build algae tanks at the Oak Island wastewater treatment plant. Town officials have shown interest in the concept, Jones said, and she is now waiting to hear from Brunswick Electric.
"We'd like to start a large project of growing algae in industrial quantities and extract the oils from it," then selling it to companies that would want to mass-produce biofuel, Jones said.
The Oak Island plant would have appropriate space for tanks where treated wastewater could be used to grow algae, Sabaoun said.
To begin research for the project, Jones and Sabaoun said they started a company with out-of-pocket money and are growing algae in Jones' front yard in Southport.
Jones said she is researching three species of algae to see if they can survive in cold weather; so far, they are doing well through the temperature changes.
Jones and Sabaoun hope the company will lead to much bigger things.
"Wouldn't it be a wonderful vision to have every wastewater treatment facility ... growing algae for oil to produce biodiesel?" Jones said. "To make that happen would require a lot of collaboration from across the board."
Jesus da Rocinha
ABOUT THIS ARTICLE: I wrote about 200 articles in my weekly Portuguese-language online column, so it's hard to pick the one I like best or which would fit here best. This one was a work of fiction, a metaphorical commentary on Brazilian society and religion, and well, I just felt like putting it here. I enjoyed writing for that Web site because I could basically say whatever I wanted to. So... if you can understand Portuguese, or just want to follow the letters in this beautiful, melodious language, read on!
DIRETO DA REDAÇÃO (www.diretodaredação.com)
22/12/2001
Messias do século XX
Colunista faz uma descoberta impressionante: ela fala de um homem chamado Jesus, que viveu no Rio de Janeiro no século passado.
Maria da Rocinha descobriu que estava grávida em março de 1966. O marido dela era José, um carpenteiro bêbado que não ganhava o bastante para sustentar os dois, quanto mais um terceiro membro na família. Ela disse que o filho era dele, pois ele nunca iria acreditar que um anjo tinha “plantado a semente.” Apesar de ter ficado chateado, José passou a bater menos na mulher e a beber menos também, como que por interferência divina.
Por nove meses Maria continuou a dura rotina de faxineira, em qualquer casa que conseguia em São Conrado. Mas todo dia ela descia o morro cantando de felicidade, por possuir no ventre um feto tão especial – um feto que se transformaria num menino e finalmente num homem que salvaria o mundo de alguma maneira. Será que ele teria que morrer também? Ela esperava que a história não se repetisse. De qualquer modo, o filho dela seria alguém, ao contrário do
marido. Ela também se sentia importante, apesar de não ser tão pura quanto a Maria original.
Na noite do dia 24 de dezembro de 1966, Maria estava trabalhando em uma das casas, quando sentiu dores fortíssimas. A patroa levou-a de carro a vários hospitais na cidade, mas nenhum parecia ter vaga. Quando as esperanças já estavam se acabando e a placenta estourando, Maria e a patroa acharam um hospital particular que decidiu ajudá-las. Porém, como o preço de um quarto era caro demais até para a patroa pagar, Maria teve que dar a luz no chão mesmo,
sobre um cobertor. Pacientes e visitantes a rodearam, fascinados pelo fenômeno que nascia... era um menino negro como a noite sem lua, enquanto Maria era branca como a neve.
Quando Maria chegou no barraco em que morava, dois dias depois, ela e o marido (também branco) tiveram uma grave discussão. Era óbvio que o filho não podia ser dele. Ela então alegou:
-Essa criança aqui é Jesus! Um anjo trouxe ele pra mim...
-Que Jesus que nada! – Ele respondeu, gritando. – Você andou foi dando prum negão! Agora vai ter que apanhar!
Nada que Maria disse conseguiu convencer José. Ele bateu nela como nunca, mas não fez nada para o bebê. Pelo contrário: sem saber o porquê, José começou a chorar quando segurou o pequeno Jesus, e pôs ele para dormir no colchão do casal. Depois disso, José saiu pela porta do barraco e nunca mais voltou. Alguns dizem que ele morreu algum tempo depois na sarjeta.
Jesus da Rocinha, aos 33 anos, era bem diferente de Jesus de Nazaré. Jesus da Rocinha era negro e usava rastafari, enquanto Jesus de Nazaré (pelo menos nas pinturas) era branco e tinha lindos e longos cabelos loiros. Jesus da Rocinha, ao invés de defender a prostituta Maria Madalena de ser apedrejada, defendeu um traficante de drogas por quem era apaixonado.
Jesus da Rocinha era homosexual e ateu, mas mesmo assim era filho de Deus. Assim como Jesus de Nazaré, ele passou a vida lutando por ideais de harmonia e irmandade, e também fazendo milagres. A mãe usou todas as economias para que ele aprendesse a ler, escrever, tocar piano e ter noções básicas de medicina. Jesus da Rocinha usou esses conhecimentos para dar aulas e salvar vidas. Ele tornou-se a pessoa mais querida da comunidade.
No ano-novo de 1999 para 2000, Jesus da Rocinha estava na praia de Copacabana com a mãe e doze amigos. Quando deu meia-noite e todos estavam comemorando a virada do milênio, à luz dos fogos de artifício, Jesus da Rocinha sentiu uma dor partir seu coração: havia sido atingido por uma bala perdida. Ele morreu com a alegria do reveillon estampada no rosto.
Maria da Rocinha não aguentou a dor e atirou-se ao mar, sendo levada pelas ondas, que estavam ferozes naquela noite.
No dia seguinte, durante o funeral que os moradores organizaram para Jesus da Rocinha, uma comadre de Maria comentou:
-Maria dizia que o filho era Jesus de verdade, trazido por um anjo.
-Não foi bem um anjo, não... – Uma outra desmentiu em voz baixa. – Você não sabia? Maria foi estuprada...
DIRETO DA REDAÇÃO (www.diretodaredação.com)
22/12/2001
Messias do século XX
Colunista faz uma descoberta impressionante: ela fala de um homem chamado Jesus, que viveu no Rio de Janeiro no século passado.
Maria da Rocinha descobriu que estava grávida em março de 1966. O marido dela era José, um carpenteiro bêbado que não ganhava o bastante para sustentar os dois, quanto mais um terceiro membro na família. Ela disse que o filho era dele, pois ele nunca iria acreditar que um anjo tinha “plantado a semente.” Apesar de ter ficado chateado, José passou a bater menos na mulher e a beber menos também, como que por interferência divina.
Por nove meses Maria continuou a dura rotina de faxineira, em qualquer casa que conseguia em São Conrado. Mas todo dia ela descia o morro cantando de felicidade, por possuir no ventre um feto tão especial – um feto que se transformaria num menino e finalmente num homem que salvaria o mundo de alguma maneira. Será que ele teria que morrer também? Ela esperava que a história não se repetisse. De qualquer modo, o filho dela seria alguém, ao contrário do
marido. Ela também se sentia importante, apesar de não ser tão pura quanto a Maria original.
Na noite do dia 24 de dezembro de 1966, Maria estava trabalhando em uma das casas, quando sentiu dores fortíssimas. A patroa levou-a de carro a vários hospitais na cidade, mas nenhum parecia ter vaga. Quando as esperanças já estavam se acabando e a placenta estourando, Maria e a patroa acharam um hospital particular que decidiu ajudá-las. Porém, como o preço de um quarto era caro demais até para a patroa pagar, Maria teve que dar a luz no chão mesmo,
sobre um cobertor. Pacientes e visitantes a rodearam, fascinados pelo fenômeno que nascia... era um menino negro como a noite sem lua, enquanto Maria era branca como a neve.
Quando Maria chegou no barraco em que morava, dois dias depois, ela e o marido (também branco) tiveram uma grave discussão. Era óbvio que o filho não podia ser dele. Ela então alegou:
-Essa criança aqui é Jesus! Um anjo trouxe ele pra mim...
-Que Jesus que nada! – Ele respondeu, gritando. – Você andou foi dando prum negão! Agora vai ter que apanhar!
Nada que Maria disse conseguiu convencer José. Ele bateu nela como nunca, mas não fez nada para o bebê. Pelo contrário: sem saber o porquê, José começou a chorar quando segurou o pequeno Jesus, e pôs ele para dormir no colchão do casal. Depois disso, José saiu pela porta do barraco e nunca mais voltou. Alguns dizem que ele morreu algum tempo depois na sarjeta.
Jesus da Rocinha, aos 33 anos, era bem diferente de Jesus de Nazaré. Jesus da Rocinha era negro e usava rastafari, enquanto Jesus de Nazaré (pelo menos nas pinturas) era branco e tinha lindos e longos cabelos loiros. Jesus da Rocinha, ao invés de defender a prostituta Maria Madalena de ser apedrejada, defendeu um traficante de drogas por quem era apaixonado.
Jesus da Rocinha era homosexual e ateu, mas mesmo assim era filho de Deus. Assim como Jesus de Nazaré, ele passou a vida lutando por ideais de harmonia e irmandade, e também fazendo milagres. A mãe usou todas as economias para que ele aprendesse a ler, escrever, tocar piano e ter noções básicas de medicina. Jesus da Rocinha usou esses conhecimentos para dar aulas e salvar vidas. Ele tornou-se a pessoa mais querida da comunidade.
No ano-novo de 1999 para 2000, Jesus da Rocinha estava na praia de Copacabana com a mãe e doze amigos. Quando deu meia-noite e todos estavam comemorando a virada do milênio, à luz dos fogos de artifício, Jesus da Rocinha sentiu uma dor partir seu coração: havia sido atingido por uma bala perdida. Ele morreu com a alegria do reveillon estampada no rosto.
Maria da Rocinha não aguentou a dor e atirou-se ao mar, sendo levada pelas ondas, que estavam ferozes naquela noite.
No dia seguinte, durante o funeral que os moradores organizaram para Jesus da Rocinha, uma comadre de Maria comentou:
-Maria dizia que o filho era Jesus de verdade, trazido por um anjo.
-Não foi bem um anjo, não... – Uma outra desmentiu em voz baixa. – Você não sabia? Maria foi estuprada...
Big boat builder takes southern town by storm
ABOUT THIS ARTICLE: Navassa, which has a small population and one of North Carolina's lowest per capita incomes, is now attracting big businesses and developers who have discovered it has many acres of undeveloped riverfront space. One of those is Brunswick Corp., the world's biggest pleasure boat builder, which sailed in last summer amid a dipping boating market and promised to give area residents lots of decent-paying jobs.
WILMINGTON STAR-NEWS
August 11, 2007
Boat work begins at Navassa plant
U.S. Marine still has job openings
By Ana Ribeiro
Navassa | Workers wear white overalls in the stifling heat. One man plugs a cord into his astronaut-like suit so a fan can blow air into it.
Soon, people will be cooling off on the water somewhere, enjoying the fruit of the workers' sweat: Maxum and Bayliner cruisers.
Production has just started in Navassa for U.S. Marine, the boating division of Chicago-based Brunswick Corp. By the end of the year, it plans to hire almost 100 more workers here - building toward a total of 850 by 2011.
The company is the world's biggest builder of recreational boats, making, besides these cruisers, brands that include Boston Whaler, Albemarle, Cabo Yachts and Hatteras Yachts.
It employs more than 27,000 people worldwide.
Navassa Mayor Eulis Willis has welcomed the new employer, and the state has offered it tax incentives for the creation of new jobs. The corporation bought the 60-acre property on the Cape Fear River for $29 million, said company spokesman Dan Kubera.
The plant was formerly owned by KCS International, the parent company of Rampage Yachts. U.S. Marine is keeping on Rampage's more than 200 employees.
"The main thing is the people," Adam Garthaus, the local U.S. Marine director of operations, said of what he describes as the plant's biggest selling point: a trained, skilled work force.
Garthaus used to be Rampage's director of operations, and when given a choice, joined the newcomer. For one thing, U.S. Marine offers better health benefits, he said.
Another thing is job security.
"They're a large corporation," Garthaus said. "I know even in the rough times, there's going to be work."
U.S. Marine has felt the pull of the boating industry's downward cycle this year: It sold about $1.4 billion in boats during the first half of the year, down 6 percent from the same period last year.
But boating division employees haven't been greatly affected; the company laid off 90 out of the nearly 14,000 total, said company spokesman Dan Kubera.
That number could increase a bit as the company moves production from its site in Salisbury, Md., to Navassa.
"Unfortunately, this move will eliminate 180 production and support positions in a phased shutdown at Salisbury, expected to be completed in 2008," Dustan McCoy, Brunswick Corp.'s chief executive officer, said in a press release last month.
The company currently employs about 1,700 people at several plants in North Carolina, and plans to add 95 in Navassa by December, Garthaus said.
It may end up bringing some employees from Salisbury, too, he and Kubera said.
The Navassa plant, which is newer and has trained workers and equipment already in place, will enable the company to increase productivity, Kubera said.
"It's the characteristics of the plant alone that caught our eye," he said, adding that it provides easy access to deep water and to the company's target market for large yachts on the East Coast.
U.S. Marine began production at the plant on July 23, after giving Rampage's former workers three weeks to learn about brands they were not familiar with, Garthaus said.
Kubera called the way employees adapted to the company's demands and philosophy "amazing."
They finished their first cruiser hours earlier than expected.
All that despite the goggles, masks and the heat of the buzzing plant, and through six phases involving coating, painting, laying fiberglass and wood and immaculate details before sending the luxury cruisers on to the assembly line.
The process takes several weeks for each boat, with 18 cruisers being built at the same time, Garthaus said.
It "obviously demands a high level of precision, but it is also a good measure of craftsmanship," Kubera wrote in an e-mail.
"Boat-building is an art; it is not simply tightening a bolt to a widget."
At its Navassa plant, U.S. Marine is building 25-foot Maxum and 32-foot Bayliner cruisers. It plans to begin production of Meridian Yachts of up to 65 feet in 2010, Garthaus said.
It has a contract with KCS International to keep building Rampage Yachts until June as the company looks for another site, Garthaus said.
For former Rampage employee Brian Morris, the move is mostly positive. Like Garthaus, he said he likes the health benefits U.S. Marine offers; but just as he was getting the hang of his job handling the boats' electricity and plumbing, the newcomer moved him over to build dashboards.
"I liked what I was doing," said Morris, who lives in nearby Leland.
But he said he likes the way U.S. Marine breaks things down into smaller tasks and has a good proportion of employees per production line.
"This is a lot quicker," he said of production now.
As for his new task, Morris said he'll give it time.
WILMINGTON STAR-NEWS
August 11, 2007
Boat work begins at Navassa plant
U.S. Marine still has job openings
By Ana Ribeiro
Navassa | Workers wear white overalls in the stifling heat. One man plugs a cord into his astronaut-like suit so a fan can blow air into it.
Soon, people will be cooling off on the water somewhere, enjoying the fruit of the workers' sweat: Maxum and Bayliner cruisers.
Production has just started in Navassa for U.S. Marine, the boating division of Chicago-based Brunswick Corp. By the end of the year, it plans to hire almost 100 more workers here - building toward a total of 850 by 2011.
The company is the world's biggest builder of recreational boats, making, besides these cruisers, brands that include Boston Whaler, Albemarle, Cabo Yachts and Hatteras Yachts.
It employs more than 27,000 people worldwide.
Navassa Mayor Eulis Willis has welcomed the new employer, and the state has offered it tax incentives for the creation of new jobs. The corporation bought the 60-acre property on the Cape Fear River for $29 million, said company spokesman Dan Kubera.
The plant was formerly owned by KCS International, the parent company of Rampage Yachts. U.S. Marine is keeping on Rampage's more than 200 employees.
"The main thing is the people," Adam Garthaus, the local U.S. Marine director of operations, said of what he describes as the plant's biggest selling point: a trained, skilled work force.
Garthaus used to be Rampage's director of operations, and when given a choice, joined the newcomer. For one thing, U.S. Marine offers better health benefits, he said.
Another thing is job security.
"They're a large corporation," Garthaus said. "I know even in the rough times, there's going to be work."
U.S. Marine has felt the pull of the boating industry's downward cycle this year: It sold about $1.4 billion in boats during the first half of the year, down 6 percent from the same period last year.
But boating division employees haven't been greatly affected; the company laid off 90 out of the nearly 14,000 total, said company spokesman Dan Kubera.
That number could increase a bit as the company moves production from its site in Salisbury, Md., to Navassa.
"Unfortunately, this move will eliminate 180 production and support positions in a phased shutdown at Salisbury, expected to be completed in 2008," Dustan McCoy, Brunswick Corp.'s chief executive officer, said in a press release last month.
The company currently employs about 1,700 people at several plants in North Carolina, and plans to add 95 in Navassa by December, Garthaus said.
It may end up bringing some employees from Salisbury, too, he and Kubera said.
The Navassa plant, which is newer and has trained workers and equipment already in place, will enable the company to increase productivity, Kubera said.
"It's the characteristics of the plant alone that caught our eye," he said, adding that it provides easy access to deep water and to the company's target market for large yachts on the East Coast.
U.S. Marine began production at the plant on July 23, after giving Rampage's former workers three weeks to learn about brands they were not familiar with, Garthaus said.
Kubera called the way employees adapted to the company's demands and philosophy "amazing."
They finished their first cruiser hours earlier than expected.
All that despite the goggles, masks and the heat of the buzzing plant, and through six phases involving coating, painting, laying fiberglass and wood and immaculate details before sending the luxury cruisers on to the assembly line.
The process takes several weeks for each boat, with 18 cruisers being built at the same time, Garthaus said.
It "obviously demands a high level of precision, but it is also a good measure of craftsmanship," Kubera wrote in an e-mail.
"Boat-building is an art; it is not simply tightening a bolt to a widget."
At its Navassa plant, U.S. Marine is building 25-foot Maxum and 32-foot Bayliner cruisers. It plans to begin production of Meridian Yachts of up to 65 feet in 2010, Garthaus said.
It has a contract with KCS International to keep building Rampage Yachts until June as the company looks for another site, Garthaus said.
For former Rampage employee Brian Morris, the move is mostly positive. Like Garthaus, he said he likes the health benefits U.S. Marine offers; but just as he was getting the hang of his job handling the boats' electricity and plumbing, the newcomer moved him over to build dashboards.
"I liked what I was doing," said Morris, who lives in nearby Leland.
But he said he likes the way U.S. Marine breaks things down into smaller tasks and has a good proportion of employees per production line.
"This is a lot quicker," he said of production now.
As for his new task, Morris said he'll give it time.
The church: business, shelter to Brazilians abroad
ABOUT THIS ARTICLE: The rise of the Evangelical church in Brazil has spread to immigrant colonies in the U.S., and performs an even more important nurturing function than it does in the homeland. Illegal immigrants feel not only alone, but threatened by authorities and a murky immigration policy. Several people agreed to talk to me mostly, I think, because I spoke their native Portuguese.
SUN-SENTINEL
July 5, 2006
Brazilian immigrants turn to churches for help during uncertainty on immigration policy
By Ana Ribeiro
Pompano Beach · With an oversized Brazilian flag stretched out behind him, the Rev. Silair de Almeida urged prayer for people who have been deported or dread a removal order from immigration authorities.
"God is behind your life," Almeida recently told the Sunday congregation at Primeira Igreja Batista Brasileira (First Brazilian Baptist Church). "When God closes a door on us, it's because he has a better door."
As they await changes in U.S. immigration policy, many Brazilians in South Florida fear for themselves or loved ones. Seeking spiritual and social guidance, they flock to Brazilian churches such as Almeida's, where the pastor tells them the stalled debate over immigration in Congress is a test of patience that requires great faith.
The crowded church drank up his words and replied with shouts of "Amen, Senhor!" ("Amen, Lord!").
For months, Congress has struggled to reach an agreement on immigration. A House bill passed in December would make felons of immigrants who are in the United States illegally. The Senate's bill would offer permanent residence to roughly 8.3 million people without documents. Both bills would strengthen border enforcement.
"Their anxiety is enormous, tremendous," Marcelo Gondim, an immigration paralegal in Lighthouse Point, said of Brazilian immigrants. "They feel a lot of uncertainty regarding their future."
Before Congress began its debate, Gondim largely met with clients not in the country legally. Since then, he said, many have been legal immigrants requesting information on the possible legislation. Those in the country without documents prefer to wait to see what Congress will decide, he said.
While a 2004 U.S. Census survey estimates there are 34,126 Brazilians in South Florida, unofficial estimates put the population at 270,000.
For many of these immigrants, Brazilian churches perform an important social function, said João Almino, Brazil's consul general in Miami.
"These churches help create bonds that are necessary for people in a foreign country," Almino said. "They have a dual role, because they help people maintain their identity but also facilitate their integration locally."
Almeida said the 2,000-member Primeira Igreja Batista provides food, clothing, job networking services and even cars for those who cannot afford them. It also provides space for the Brazilian Consulate, which visits the church on Tuesdays to collect passport renewal forms and other documents.
During Hurricane Wilma, the church served 8,000 meals, he said.
"When Brazilians arrive here in a foreign land, they're open to all kinds of help and also change," Almeida said. "Since the church can offer not only spiritual, but also emotional and social help, they treat the church as part of their family in America."
There are about 80 Brazilian churches in South Florida, most affiliated with evangelical denominations, said Laine Furtado, publisher of the Portuguese-language Christian magazine Linha Aberta (Open Line).
Furtado said evangelical churches are becoming increasingly popular in Brazil and among Brazilians abroad because, unlike Catholic churches, they do not need clerical approval or chapels to operate.
Many are run out of rented spaces in strip malls or other churches.
"These churches are more accessible," said Furtado, who attends the Church of All Nations in Boca Raton.
Igreja Renascer em Cristo (Rebirth in Christ Church), a storefront church in Deerfield Beach, is part of a group that owns 1,500 churches, a TV network and several radio stations in Brazil.
Angelita Vale, the local church's lead pastor, said her church aims to "restore lives and bring lives to God." But her church offers immigrants information on their rights and obligations in American society and also helps them find jobs.
"It's clear that people in general only turn to the church when they have some sort of problem," said Ana Flávia Zuim Moretto, 25, of Coconut Creek. "I've noticed people getting closer to God because of the immigration issue."
Moretto, who left Brazil for the United States three years ago, calls it a miracle that she obtained a student visa from the U.S. Consulate in São Paulo, Brazil, and a few months ago, a green card. A member and organist at Igreja Renascer em Cristo, she said God helped her survive, and prevail.
"I couldn't have done this alone," Moretto said.
SUN-SENTINEL
July 5, 2006
Brazilian immigrants turn to churches for help during uncertainty on immigration policy
By Ana Ribeiro
Pompano Beach · With an oversized Brazilian flag stretched out behind him, the Rev. Silair de Almeida urged prayer for people who have been deported or dread a removal order from immigration authorities.
"God is behind your life," Almeida recently told the Sunday congregation at Primeira Igreja Batista Brasileira (First Brazilian Baptist Church). "When God closes a door on us, it's because he has a better door."
As they await changes in U.S. immigration policy, many Brazilians in South Florida fear for themselves or loved ones. Seeking spiritual and social guidance, they flock to Brazilian churches such as Almeida's, where the pastor tells them the stalled debate over immigration in Congress is a test of patience that requires great faith.
The crowded church drank up his words and replied with shouts of "Amen, Senhor!" ("Amen, Lord!").
For months, Congress has struggled to reach an agreement on immigration. A House bill passed in December would make felons of immigrants who are in the United States illegally. The Senate's bill would offer permanent residence to roughly 8.3 million people without documents. Both bills would strengthen border enforcement.
"Their anxiety is enormous, tremendous," Marcelo Gondim, an immigration paralegal in Lighthouse Point, said of Brazilian immigrants. "They feel a lot of uncertainty regarding their future."
Before Congress began its debate, Gondim largely met with clients not in the country legally. Since then, he said, many have been legal immigrants requesting information on the possible legislation. Those in the country without documents prefer to wait to see what Congress will decide, he said.
While a 2004 U.S. Census survey estimates there are 34,126 Brazilians in South Florida, unofficial estimates put the population at 270,000.
For many of these immigrants, Brazilian churches perform an important social function, said João Almino, Brazil's consul general in Miami.
"These churches help create bonds that are necessary for people in a foreign country," Almino said. "They have a dual role, because they help people maintain their identity but also facilitate their integration locally."
Almeida said the 2,000-member Primeira Igreja Batista provides food, clothing, job networking services and even cars for those who cannot afford them. It also provides space for the Brazilian Consulate, which visits the church on Tuesdays to collect passport renewal forms and other documents.
During Hurricane Wilma, the church served 8,000 meals, he said.
"When Brazilians arrive here in a foreign land, they're open to all kinds of help and also change," Almeida said. "Since the church can offer not only spiritual, but also emotional and social help, they treat the church as part of their family in America."
There are about 80 Brazilian churches in South Florida, most affiliated with evangelical denominations, said Laine Furtado, publisher of the Portuguese-language Christian magazine Linha Aberta (Open Line).
Furtado said evangelical churches are becoming increasingly popular in Brazil and among Brazilians abroad because, unlike Catholic churches, they do not need clerical approval or chapels to operate.
Many are run out of rented spaces in strip malls or other churches.
"These churches are more accessible," said Furtado, who attends the Church of All Nations in Boca Raton.
Igreja Renascer em Cristo (Rebirth in Christ Church), a storefront church in Deerfield Beach, is part of a group that owns 1,500 churches, a TV network and several radio stations in Brazil.
Angelita Vale, the local church's lead pastor, said her church aims to "restore lives and bring lives to God." But her church offers immigrants information on their rights and obligations in American society and also helps them find jobs.
"It's clear that people in general only turn to the church when they have some sort of problem," said Ana Flávia Zuim Moretto, 25, of Coconut Creek. "I've noticed people getting closer to God because of the immigration issue."
Moretto, who left Brazil for the United States three years ago, calls it a miracle that she obtained a student visa from the U.S. Consulate in São Paulo, Brazil, and a few months ago, a green card. A member and organist at Igreja Renascer em Cristo, she said God helped her survive, and prevail.
"I couldn't have done this alone," Moretto said.
A small town with big ambitions
ABOUT THIS ARTICLE: Belville is a very small town I cover in Brunswick County, N.C. Its residents have complained the town doesn't offer enough services and has signed with an out-of-town developer too fast to revamp its downtown. I wrote this story before the contract was signed, but it gives a face to the town's big plans, shedding some light on how they would affect its longtime residents -- even displacing them -- and force them to adapt.
WILMINGTON STAR-NEWS
August 5, 2007
Belville reborn
Longtime dream for a new downtown now closer to reality
By Ana Ribeiro
Belville | Boxes of pictures crowd Eunice Long's living room. They hold years of Belville's history, mingled with that of her own family.
Long, 67, lives in the same Belville home she grew up in. Her father, the late John D. Long, was the town's first mayor, and she was the first town clerk.
The now 30-year-old town incorporated so it could have a liquor store, she said.
"Daddy's vision was to make this a pretty little spot by the side of the road," Long said. "Revenue from the liquor store was supposed to do that. But to this day, we haven't seen that. It's not pretty yet."
But now the town's plans to turn its dilapidated downtown into a riverside haven for shopping, entertainment and condo living seem more realistic than ever before.
The town staff is working on a master plan and seeking money for infrastructure. Developers are buying up property to clear space for the project.
At some point, structures besides the several that have already come down will be demolished.
That includes Long's house on Old River Road.
"I want to see it happen," Long said of the downtown project. "It will be a bittersweet day when they tear my house down."
Leap of faith
Several months ago, the downtown project developers offered Long a deal: some cash, a temporary home and then a condo of her choice in the new downtown, once it gets completed. If the project falls through, she will be moved elsewhere, her contract says.
In return, she would give up her house.
She won't have to spend a dime but also doesn't know where or when they'll be moving her out. She doesn't know whether the temporary place will have enough room for her decades worth of pictures and other belongings.
Long took the deal anyway and bought herself a van with the money.
"It was a difficult decision," said Long, who has lived alone since her sons moved out and her parents died. "My roots go very deep in this piece of land. But it's for the betterment of this community, and my betterment. I can no longer take care of this house properly."
Long's deal is unique, said Lance Robbins, a principal with Urban Smart Growth, the California-based company investing in the downtown project. It took into account that Long's father had been mayor and she wanted to continue living in town, he said.
She will participate in determining where the company will move her after it takes over her house, Robbins said. The closing date on the property is in March, but Robbins said it could be a few years until she has to leave.
Robbins said it's optimistic to think construction will begin in two or three years.
"We're really starting with nothing," he said.
Long haul for overhaul
All that's left of downtown Belville now, after it has decayed over the years and undergone some demolitions, are a few shops and churches. Also, the town lacks the infrastructure to support major development, said Michael White, Robbins' local partner. It needs more water and sewer lines, he said, something it will have to coordinate with its provider, the North Brunswick Sanitary District.
But Urban Smart Growth's niche is precisely revamping old urban neighborhoods, Robbins said, and although it can be difficult, there "are a lot of funds being invested in this sort of project."
The company currently has about 100 acres of property in production across the country, Robbins said.
At about 70 acres - half of it estimated to be buildable, half of it wetlands - Belville's central business district will be the company's biggest project to date, he said.
The project will cost more than $100 million, Robbins said, but he expects it to yield large profits in the end. Downtown Belville is very attractive because of its proximity to the water and access to major thoroughfares, the developer said.
Before now, however, no one had "the courage to assemble and deal with it," he said.
"A lot of people were trying to come into Belville and buy individual pieces to redevelop," said White, owner of the local company Five Points Development. "What it took was somebody to make the commitment and buy more than one property."
So far, the developers have closed on Main Street's Old Cookery and an old motel, both of which have been demolished, as well as on a series of properties on Blackwell Road, Robbins said. Other properties are in various stages of contracts and negotiations, he said.
Authorities impounded the other motel that has been torn down, Town & Country, after the owner was arrested, White said. But the developers still hope to buy it one day; in fact, they're working on purchasing most of the properties that remain, including a state-owned bridge maintenance facility on the Brunswick River, he said.
Lofty plans made real
Robbins believes he arrived in Belville at just the right time, when a new town administration was in place.
"They were very encouraging," he said. "If they had not shown interest, we would've walked out the door."
White and Robbins joined in the town's charrette, a series of planning workshops, in February and took notes on what the town intends its downtown to be. With homes, stores, restaurants and a riverwalk, it could come to resemble downtown Wilmington, only smaller and more meticulously planned.
The plans look good on paper. Now the town must discuss them in practical terms, Town Administrator Tracie Davis said.
"The charrette is an outside-of-the-box process, without looking at rules and regulations," Davis said.
Davis has been meeting with the planning board to go over the design and recommendations by the Lawrence Group, the town's consultants, and see how feasible they are as far as money, traffic and environment go.
It has not been such a smooth task so far.
At a meeting last month, planning board members spent a substantial amount of time discussing aspects of the design they could not agree on, then tabling them for when they'd have more details. Davis was frustrated then, but showed optimism later, saying the next meeting went better.
The Lawrence Group should be able to come back next month with revised recommendations for the Board of Commissioners to approve, Davis said.
"This is a very difficult, time-consuming process to go through," she said. "But it's doable. It's so doable."
Davis said the town is doing all it can to avoid extending the current moratorium that has halted development in Belville's Lincoln Industrial Park, its main downtown area and the business corridor along U.S. 17, all slated for new construction and improvements under Belville's conceptual plan.
Much of that plan counts on cooperation from other entities.
It depends on the N.C. Department of Transportation for a lot of the road improvements it seeks; on Leland for the Chappell Loop Road area Belville would like to annex from the town for further industrial development; and on developers to fund most of the buildings and part of the infrastructure.
After all, Belville doesn't have much money. It had to let go of a code enforcement officer to hire a planning director, which upset some residents.
They have complained that the town, which doesn't have its own police department yet, does not offer them enough services.
Davis contends the town is carrying out good planning, a service that's somewhat abstract. "People don't see the value in it until years later," she said.
As for affording infrastructure, Davis said she will be looking first for grants and then loans. Raising taxes would be the last resort, she said. But before the search for funds begins, the town needs to do a study on how much money it will actually need, Davis said.
A new water view
As Belville prepares the ground for new construction, the noticeable change lies in what's no longer there.
"The fact these things are being torn down is a good indication" that the project will take off, Long said.
Before the Cape Fear Memorial Bridge opened in 1969, people would stop by downtown Belville on their way to Wilmington. Long, who now works at the Wal-Mart in Leland, remembers her town's business district once having three motels, several gas stations, a large towel store, a cafe and the Old Cookery.
Business died after the new four-lane highway bypassed Belville. Drugs and prostitution came into the gray-looking downtown.
From the old motel property White purchased, he took out septic tanks he described as "almost completely filled with hypodermic needles and crack pipes."
Long said a prostitute once approached her son outside the nearby Scotchman store.
"I was kind of ashamed of telling people where I lived because they had to go through that junk," Long said.
But the demolitions have driven those illegal activities away, as far as Long knows. She wants progress to come to her hometown and hopes she'll be around to see the new downtown condo she has been promised.
One of the selling points in the developers' deal with her was a view of the river, Long said, adding that the condo might be built where her house now stands.
"I've always had a view of the river," Long said. "I'll just have a better view from high up, I guess. 'Cause I want top floor. And I hope they have an elevator."
WILMINGTON STAR-NEWS
August 5, 2007
Belville reborn
Longtime dream for a new downtown now closer to reality
By Ana Ribeiro
Belville | Boxes of pictures crowd Eunice Long's living room. They hold years of Belville's history, mingled with that of her own family.
Long, 67, lives in the same Belville home she grew up in. Her father, the late John D. Long, was the town's first mayor, and she was the first town clerk.
The now 30-year-old town incorporated so it could have a liquor store, she said.
"Daddy's vision was to make this a pretty little spot by the side of the road," Long said. "Revenue from the liquor store was supposed to do that. But to this day, we haven't seen that. It's not pretty yet."
But now the town's plans to turn its dilapidated downtown into a riverside haven for shopping, entertainment and condo living seem more realistic than ever before.
The town staff is working on a master plan and seeking money for infrastructure. Developers are buying up property to clear space for the project.
At some point, structures besides the several that have already come down will be demolished.
That includes Long's house on Old River Road.
"I want to see it happen," Long said of the downtown project. "It will be a bittersweet day when they tear my house down."
Leap of faith
Several months ago, the downtown project developers offered Long a deal: some cash, a temporary home and then a condo of her choice in the new downtown, once it gets completed. If the project falls through, she will be moved elsewhere, her contract says.
In return, she would give up her house.
She won't have to spend a dime but also doesn't know where or when they'll be moving her out. She doesn't know whether the temporary place will have enough room for her decades worth of pictures and other belongings.
Long took the deal anyway and bought herself a van with the money.
"It was a difficult decision," said Long, who has lived alone since her sons moved out and her parents died. "My roots go very deep in this piece of land. But it's for the betterment of this community, and my betterment. I can no longer take care of this house properly."
Long's deal is unique, said Lance Robbins, a principal with Urban Smart Growth, the California-based company investing in the downtown project. It took into account that Long's father had been mayor and she wanted to continue living in town, he said.
She will participate in determining where the company will move her after it takes over her house, Robbins said. The closing date on the property is in March, but Robbins said it could be a few years until she has to leave.
Robbins said it's optimistic to think construction will begin in two or three years.
"We're really starting with nothing," he said.
Long haul for overhaul
All that's left of downtown Belville now, after it has decayed over the years and undergone some demolitions, are a few shops and churches. Also, the town lacks the infrastructure to support major development, said Michael White, Robbins' local partner. It needs more water and sewer lines, he said, something it will have to coordinate with its provider, the North Brunswick Sanitary District.
But Urban Smart Growth's niche is precisely revamping old urban neighborhoods, Robbins said, and although it can be difficult, there "are a lot of funds being invested in this sort of project."
The company currently has about 100 acres of property in production across the country, Robbins said.
At about 70 acres - half of it estimated to be buildable, half of it wetlands - Belville's central business district will be the company's biggest project to date, he said.
The project will cost more than $100 million, Robbins said, but he expects it to yield large profits in the end. Downtown Belville is very attractive because of its proximity to the water and access to major thoroughfares, the developer said.
Before now, however, no one had "the courage to assemble and deal with it," he said.
"A lot of people were trying to come into Belville and buy individual pieces to redevelop," said White, owner of the local company Five Points Development. "What it took was somebody to make the commitment and buy more than one property."
So far, the developers have closed on Main Street's Old Cookery and an old motel, both of which have been demolished, as well as on a series of properties on Blackwell Road, Robbins said. Other properties are in various stages of contracts and negotiations, he said.
Authorities impounded the other motel that has been torn down, Town & Country, after the owner was arrested, White said. But the developers still hope to buy it one day; in fact, they're working on purchasing most of the properties that remain, including a state-owned bridge maintenance facility on the Brunswick River, he said.
Lofty plans made real
Robbins believes he arrived in Belville at just the right time, when a new town administration was in place.
"They were very encouraging," he said. "If they had not shown interest, we would've walked out the door."
White and Robbins joined in the town's charrette, a series of planning workshops, in February and took notes on what the town intends its downtown to be. With homes, stores, restaurants and a riverwalk, it could come to resemble downtown Wilmington, only smaller and more meticulously planned.
The plans look good on paper. Now the town must discuss them in practical terms, Town Administrator Tracie Davis said.
"The charrette is an outside-of-the-box process, without looking at rules and regulations," Davis said.
Davis has been meeting with the planning board to go over the design and recommendations by the Lawrence Group, the town's consultants, and see how feasible they are as far as money, traffic and environment go.
It has not been such a smooth task so far.
At a meeting last month, planning board members spent a substantial amount of time discussing aspects of the design they could not agree on, then tabling them for when they'd have more details. Davis was frustrated then, but showed optimism later, saying the next meeting went better.
The Lawrence Group should be able to come back next month with revised recommendations for the Board of Commissioners to approve, Davis said.
"This is a very difficult, time-consuming process to go through," she said. "But it's doable. It's so doable."
Davis said the town is doing all it can to avoid extending the current moratorium that has halted development in Belville's Lincoln Industrial Park, its main downtown area and the business corridor along U.S. 17, all slated for new construction and improvements under Belville's conceptual plan.
Much of that plan counts on cooperation from other entities.
It depends on the N.C. Department of Transportation for a lot of the road improvements it seeks; on Leland for the Chappell Loop Road area Belville would like to annex from the town for further industrial development; and on developers to fund most of the buildings and part of the infrastructure.
After all, Belville doesn't have much money. It had to let go of a code enforcement officer to hire a planning director, which upset some residents.
They have complained that the town, which doesn't have its own police department yet, does not offer them enough services.
Davis contends the town is carrying out good planning, a service that's somewhat abstract. "People don't see the value in it until years later," she said.
As for affording infrastructure, Davis said she will be looking first for grants and then loans. Raising taxes would be the last resort, she said. But before the search for funds begins, the town needs to do a study on how much money it will actually need, Davis said.
A new water view
As Belville prepares the ground for new construction, the noticeable change lies in what's no longer there.
"The fact these things are being torn down is a good indication" that the project will take off, Long said.
Before the Cape Fear Memorial Bridge opened in 1969, people would stop by downtown Belville on their way to Wilmington. Long, who now works at the Wal-Mart in Leland, remembers her town's business district once having three motels, several gas stations, a large towel store, a cafe and the Old Cookery.
Business died after the new four-lane highway bypassed Belville. Drugs and prostitution came into the gray-looking downtown.
From the old motel property White purchased, he took out septic tanks he described as "almost completely filled with hypodermic needles and crack pipes."
Long said a prostitute once approached her son outside the nearby Scotchman store.
"I was kind of ashamed of telling people where I lived because they had to go through that junk," Long said.
But the demolitions have driven those illegal activities away, as far as Long knows. She wants progress to come to her hometown and hopes she'll be around to see the new downtown condo she has been promised.
One of the selling points in the developers' deal with her was a view of the river, Long said, adding that the condo might be built where her house now stands.
"I've always had a view of the river," Long said. "I'll just have a better view from high up, I guess. 'Cause I want top floor. And I hope they have an elevator."
Hidden Brazilian gems
ABOUT THIS ARTICLE: I went around the Brazilian community in South Florida looking for a good entertainment guide to give Sun-Sentinel readers. That community is big over there, but so many stories -- and riches -- remain hidden. I think I succeeded in giving them at least "a taste" of this culture that is ingrained in me.
SUN-SENTINEL
September 14, 2006
A taste of Brazil in South Florida
Love of homeland is strong for the growing Brazilian population, who find a taste of home at these lively spots. Join in the fun.
By Ana Ribeiro
Weekend after weekend, New Zealander Bruce Dunn sits in a Brazilian restaurant in Pompano Beach, sipping on beer and listening to bossa nova.
"You can relax here," Dunn, a Pompano resident for 25 years, said of his favorite hangout. "It's more casual than American places."
Along with Brazilians and others who appreciate the culture, Dunn is a regular at Panorama Restaurant and other venues in Pompano, the hub of South Florida's Brazilian community, nearly 40,000 strong according to the U.S. Census Bureau.
At Panorama, Cristiane Visentin sings and plays the guitar to retro bossa nova tunes on the weekends, as families gather for dinner and others drink and chat at the bar.
A few streets over at Feijão com Arroz and Renascer Cafe, young people pour into the open dining areas, the tables pushed aside to make room. They dance to bands performing Brazilian party music -- often the genres of forró, axé and pagode, popular among the working class.
"Only forró can ease their mind," said Visentin, 41, who has performed, sticking to her own style, at many local restaurants. "The kind of music I perform has been forgotten, the market for it is weak."
Visentin does have a following -- though much of it, she said, is American. She performs Thursdays at Tom Choppin, a Brazilian restaurant in Deerfield Beach, and Fridays and Saturdays at Panorama.
Two Tuesdays a month, Visentin and other Brazilian artists and writers participate in Tom Choppin's Terças Culturais (Cultural Tuesdays). It's an opportunity to sing, recite poems and express other talents.
Aspiring singers also can take the stage at Oba Oba, also in Deerfield Beach, where staff organizes talent contests. It was at last month's contest that Reinaldo De Marios spent the last night of his life, singing an upbeat Brazilian song, before a fatal car accident put an end to his dream of returning to Brazil.
"Brazilian people ache deeply for their culture," said Athos Marques, manager at Feijão com Arroz, which often organizes big Brazilian music concerts at Club Cinema in Pompano.
Deyvid Miller, 26, of Boca Raton, would agree with that. He said he frequents several Brazilian restaurants to get closer to his countrymen's warmth and spontaneity.
"I miss Brazil a lot," Miller said. "But with so many Brazilians here, it feels like my country, and I feel good. I even forget about my homesickness sometimes."
While enjoying the ocean breeze in Deerfield Beach recently, Miller ran into another Brazilian, Eber Moura, who was visiting South Florida from San Francisco. Moura said he enjoyed seeing Brazilians party together -- something he doesn't see much of in California.
"Our community over there is very separated, disunited," said Moura, 30. "It's very complicated to organize things and to please everyone."
Restaurants are by no means the only sign Brazilians are leaving a strong mark in South Florida.
In the past few years, north Broward County has seen a boom of Brazilian supermarkets, bakeries, retail stores, car dealerships, money-remittance companies and media outlets -- including a slew of newspapers and a new cable TV channel.
"Even though a lot of Brazilians left after 9/11, the ones who stayed decided to create their own businesses," said Dinezio Curti, 30, who co-owns Panorama with his father, Dario. "They want to build a future here and a reputation as people who can be counted on for business, rather than as people who just want to party all the time."
Next to Panorama in Pompano Beach is the Brazilian retail store Central do Brasil and, across the street, a Brazilian-run optical store, 20/20 Optical. A few miles north, the plaza where Feijão com Arroz is located is a veritable Brazilian microcosm, with several retail stores bearing Brazilian names and colors. There's also the traditional supermarket Via Brasil, which also has stores in Miami.
In Deerfield Beach, an entire plaza has been named Brazilian Depot and has nothing but Brazilian stores. Another plaza in the city is constantly crowded on weekends, with people dancing at Tom Choppin and others tasting the exotic, popular fruit açaí and having milkshakes at the Brasliced luncheonette.
Despite its growth, Brazilian commerce in South Florida is fickle. Places have opened, closed, moved, or at the very least changed their menus and musical acts several times. Tropicana Restaurant, an old-timer popular for its samba shows, has announced it's now closed in Pompano Beach and moving to Boca Raton.
"Everything is a novelty," said Curti, whose Panorama has survived the times. "You've got to constantly bring in new things to attract people."
But to Dunn, the New Zealander, the Brazilian scene never gets old. A retired professional diver, Dunn once built ocean oil platforms in Brazil -- and he's a great admirer of the joie de vivre of its people.
"Brazilians are easygoing people," Dunn said. "They have fewer restrictions. They live for today, not for tomorrow."
SUN-SENTINEL
September 14, 2006
A taste of Brazil in South Florida
Love of homeland is strong for the growing Brazilian population, who find a taste of home at these lively spots. Join in the fun.
By Ana Ribeiro
Weekend after weekend, New Zealander Bruce Dunn sits in a Brazilian restaurant in Pompano Beach, sipping on beer and listening to bossa nova.
"You can relax here," Dunn, a Pompano resident for 25 years, said of his favorite hangout. "It's more casual than American places."
Along with Brazilians and others who appreciate the culture, Dunn is a regular at Panorama Restaurant and other venues in Pompano, the hub of South Florida's Brazilian community, nearly 40,000 strong according to the U.S. Census Bureau.
At Panorama, Cristiane Visentin sings and plays the guitar to retro bossa nova tunes on the weekends, as families gather for dinner and others drink and chat at the bar.
A few streets over at Feijão com Arroz and Renascer Cafe, young people pour into the open dining areas, the tables pushed aside to make room. They dance to bands performing Brazilian party music -- often the genres of forró, axé and pagode, popular among the working class.
"Only forró can ease their mind," said Visentin, 41, who has performed, sticking to her own style, at many local restaurants. "The kind of music I perform has been forgotten, the market for it is weak."
Visentin does have a following -- though much of it, she said, is American. She performs Thursdays at Tom Choppin, a Brazilian restaurant in Deerfield Beach, and Fridays and Saturdays at Panorama.
Two Tuesdays a month, Visentin and other Brazilian artists and writers participate in Tom Choppin's Terças Culturais (Cultural Tuesdays). It's an opportunity to sing, recite poems and express other talents.
Aspiring singers also can take the stage at Oba Oba, also in Deerfield Beach, where staff organizes talent contests. It was at last month's contest that Reinaldo De Marios spent the last night of his life, singing an upbeat Brazilian song, before a fatal car accident put an end to his dream of returning to Brazil.
"Brazilian people ache deeply for their culture," said Athos Marques, manager at Feijão com Arroz, which often organizes big Brazilian music concerts at Club Cinema in Pompano.
Deyvid Miller, 26, of Boca Raton, would agree with that. He said he frequents several Brazilian restaurants to get closer to his countrymen's warmth and spontaneity.
"I miss Brazil a lot," Miller said. "But with so many Brazilians here, it feels like my country, and I feel good. I even forget about my homesickness sometimes."
While enjoying the ocean breeze in Deerfield Beach recently, Miller ran into another Brazilian, Eber Moura, who was visiting South Florida from San Francisco. Moura said he enjoyed seeing Brazilians party together -- something he doesn't see much of in California.
"Our community over there is very separated, disunited," said Moura, 30. "It's very complicated to organize things and to please everyone."
Restaurants are by no means the only sign Brazilians are leaving a strong mark in South Florida.
In the past few years, north Broward County has seen a boom of Brazilian supermarkets, bakeries, retail stores, car dealerships, money-remittance companies and media outlets -- including a slew of newspapers and a new cable TV channel.
"Even though a lot of Brazilians left after 9/11, the ones who stayed decided to create their own businesses," said Dinezio Curti, 30, who co-owns Panorama with his father, Dario. "They want to build a future here and a reputation as people who can be counted on for business, rather than as people who just want to party all the time."
Next to Panorama in Pompano Beach is the Brazilian retail store Central do Brasil and, across the street, a Brazilian-run optical store, 20/20 Optical. A few miles north, the plaza where Feijão com Arroz is located is a veritable Brazilian microcosm, with several retail stores bearing Brazilian names and colors. There's also the traditional supermarket Via Brasil, which also has stores in Miami.
In Deerfield Beach, an entire plaza has been named Brazilian Depot and has nothing but Brazilian stores. Another plaza in the city is constantly crowded on weekends, with people dancing at Tom Choppin and others tasting the exotic, popular fruit açaí and having milkshakes at the Brasliced luncheonette.
Despite its growth, Brazilian commerce in South Florida is fickle. Places have opened, closed, moved, or at the very least changed their menus and musical acts several times. Tropicana Restaurant, an old-timer popular for its samba shows, has announced it's now closed in Pompano Beach and moving to Boca Raton.
"Everything is a novelty," said Curti, whose Panorama has survived the times. "You've got to constantly bring in new things to attract people."
But to Dunn, the New Zealander, the Brazilian scene never gets old. A retired professional diver, Dunn once built ocean oil platforms in Brazil -- and he's a great admirer of the joie de vivre of its people.
"Brazilians are easygoing people," Dunn said. "They have fewer restrictions. They live for today, not for tomorrow."
Top story of 2007
ABOUT THIS ARTICLE: It might not have been the top story in the world, mind you, but it was, according to readers, last year's top story in the North Carolina newspaper I work for. The story -- that of a local 40-year-old teacher who married a 16-year-old student -- made the Associated Press wire, Good Morning America and spread all over the country. It has helped prompt some discussions and changes at the local and state level. The story below is the outcome of the case -- at least for now. After a year of trying, I finally got the student to talk to me, and that, in my opinion, made the article.
WILMINGTON STAR-NEWS
June 10, 2008
Judge dismisses parents' suit against school board, Wuchae
By Ana Ribeiro
Bolivia | After a year of seeing her name all over the news and the unpleasantness of a lawsuit related to her marriage to her former coach, Windy Wuchae jumped with joy outside a Brunswick County courtroom on Monday.
The now 17-year-old said she was about to call her husband, Brenton Wuchae, to tell him the news: A Superior Court judge dismissed the suit her parents, Dennis and Betty Hager, had filed against him and the Brunswick County school board. The two got married a year ago, on June 18, the same day Wuchae resigned from Windy's school, South Brunswick High.
The parents' attorney, Robert Tatum, said that they will probably appeal the case and that he still thinks they can win. In their suit, filed July 10 and refiled with new constitutional claims in March, the Hagers accuse Wuchae and school officials of causing them emotional distress because of the 41-year-old's relationship with their daughter.
Hearing the things attorneys brought up in court was tough, Windy said in an interview. Tatum's partner, Donald Lively, told the judge the Hagers should be able to seek damages because school officials did not properly investigate the case or protect Windy from being seduced, emotionally or physically, by Wuchae.
"But it wasn't true," Windy said. She maintains she and Wuchae were just friends before the wedding.
Wuchae's attorney, George Rountree, says she married him to be able to leave home, where she was having problems with her parents.
Clutching a stack of articles published about the case, Windy sat alone in the courtroom, keeping her cool and being gracious to the reporters and cameras focused on her. Wuchae was not present because he had to be at work at the Southport Food Lion, Rountree said.
Windy works at the Oak Island Food Lion and will graduate early from South Brunswick High after taking college classes at Brunswick Community College. She said she will not walk with her class Saturday but will pick up the diploma this month; she plans to attend BCC in the fall.
"She's very, very smart," said schools' Superintendent Katie McGee, after giving Windy a hug outside the courtroom and adding she probably will graduate with honors. "This child has been through a lot, and I'm very proud of her."
McGee said it's time for the school system to move on from a case from which it has learned a lot, and she thinks the public understands the challenges the school system has to go through in spite of unflattering media coverage.
Two other suits against the board – filed by different sets of parents who accuse the schools of failing to stop employees from sexually violating their children – are now in federal court and await a ruling on the school board's motion to dismiss.
In Brunswick County court Monday, defense attorney Kathleen Tanner persuaded Judge Thomas Lock to dismiss the case, arguing that under sovereign immunity, the board cannot be held liable for claims of negligence. The immunity applies because the board had not purchased an insurance policy that covers those claims, Tanner said.
Tatum's team argued otherwise, claiming that there had been a breach of contract, that insurance is useless if it does not cover claims and that the board gets to pick which cases to indemnify for.
"I'm disappointed the board was successful at hiding behind sovereign immunity to cover up their actions rather than being held accountable," Tatum said.
Tanner also contended the suit's argument that the board had violated the plaintiffs' right to education is not valid because the right does not cover "40-something-year-old parents." She corrected Lively when he argued Windy was not in school.
Rountree and Tanner recently signed an agreement to jointly represent their clients. In asking for the case to be dismissed, Rountree brought up the fact the Hagers had consented to their daughter's marriage to Wuchae and told the judge that Dennis Hager called Wuchae to say he'd sign the consent form because he knew they were in love.
Rountree said Wuchae recommended to Dennis Hager that parents and daughter solve their family problems.
"He was kind of like a dad or big brother to me," Windy said of Wuchae.
With a smile, she said Wuchae makes her happy. Rountree said the former coach is supportive of his wife's education and that, like the attorney, he wishes she could mend her relationship with her parents.
WILMINGTON STAR-NEWS
June 10, 2008
Judge dismisses parents' suit against school board, Wuchae
By Ana Ribeiro
Bolivia | After a year of seeing her name all over the news and the unpleasantness of a lawsuit related to her marriage to her former coach, Windy Wuchae jumped with joy outside a Brunswick County courtroom on Monday.
The now 17-year-old said she was about to call her husband, Brenton Wuchae, to tell him the news: A Superior Court judge dismissed the suit her parents, Dennis and Betty Hager, had filed against him and the Brunswick County school board. The two got married a year ago, on June 18, the same day Wuchae resigned from Windy's school, South Brunswick High.
The parents' attorney, Robert Tatum, said that they will probably appeal the case and that he still thinks they can win. In their suit, filed July 10 and refiled with new constitutional claims in March, the Hagers accuse Wuchae and school officials of causing them emotional distress because of the 41-year-old's relationship with their daughter.
Hearing the things attorneys brought up in court was tough, Windy said in an interview. Tatum's partner, Donald Lively, told the judge the Hagers should be able to seek damages because school officials did not properly investigate the case or protect Windy from being seduced, emotionally or physically, by Wuchae.
"But it wasn't true," Windy said. She maintains she and Wuchae were just friends before the wedding.
Wuchae's attorney, George Rountree, says she married him to be able to leave home, where she was having problems with her parents.
Clutching a stack of articles published about the case, Windy sat alone in the courtroom, keeping her cool and being gracious to the reporters and cameras focused on her. Wuchae was not present because he had to be at work at the Southport Food Lion, Rountree said.
Windy works at the Oak Island Food Lion and will graduate early from South Brunswick High after taking college classes at Brunswick Community College. She said she will not walk with her class Saturday but will pick up the diploma this month; she plans to attend BCC in the fall.
"She's very, very smart," said schools' Superintendent Katie McGee, after giving Windy a hug outside the courtroom and adding she probably will graduate with honors. "This child has been through a lot, and I'm very proud of her."
McGee said it's time for the school system to move on from a case from which it has learned a lot, and she thinks the public understands the challenges the school system has to go through in spite of unflattering media coverage.
Two other suits against the board – filed by different sets of parents who accuse the schools of failing to stop employees from sexually violating their children – are now in federal court and await a ruling on the school board's motion to dismiss.
In Brunswick County court Monday, defense attorney Kathleen Tanner persuaded Judge Thomas Lock to dismiss the case, arguing that under sovereign immunity, the board cannot be held liable for claims of negligence. The immunity applies because the board had not purchased an insurance policy that covers those claims, Tanner said.
Tatum's team argued otherwise, claiming that there had been a breach of contract, that insurance is useless if it does not cover claims and that the board gets to pick which cases to indemnify for.
"I'm disappointed the board was successful at hiding behind sovereign immunity to cover up their actions rather than being held accountable," Tatum said.
Tanner also contended the suit's argument that the board had violated the plaintiffs' right to education is not valid because the right does not cover "40-something-year-old parents." She corrected Lively when he argued Windy was not in school.
Rountree and Tanner recently signed an agreement to jointly represent their clients. In asking for the case to be dismissed, Rountree brought up the fact the Hagers had consented to their daughter's marriage to Wuchae and told the judge that Dennis Hager called Wuchae to say he'd sign the consent form because he knew they were in love.
Rountree said Wuchae recommended to Dennis Hager that parents and daughter solve their family problems.
"He was kind of like a dad or big brother to me," Windy said of Wuchae.
With a smile, she said Wuchae makes her happy. Rountree said the former coach is supportive of his wife's education and that, like the attorney, he wishes she could mend her relationship with her parents.
Aventura italiana
ABOUT THIS ARTICLE: I was definitely pleased to see this had made the front of the newspaper's travel section. I had so much fun writing this very personal piece that allowed me to exercise my creativity with little restraint. Would love to make a living traveling and writing about it...
SUN-SENTINEL
July 30, 2006
Roman holiday
The question was how to best explore this Italian city. The answer came on a Vespa, and his name was Constantino.
By Ana Ribeiro
The Vespa sped through the winding streets of Rome, high and low, on cobblestone and pavement. It squeezed between cars and competed against them for space, along with a multitude of other scooters.
A cold wind lashed my hair, bumps on the road nearly knocked me off the back. I held tightly to the rider.
"Ooh hoo!" I yelled, while tightening my grip around his waist.
"Having fun?" he asked me through the engine's noise.
"Yeeees," I replied loudly. "Thank you!"
I had met the scooter's owner only a few hours earlier, when he had checked me into my hostel. (I was in the middle of a solo, post-college backpacking tour of Europe.) After his shift he had bought me a drink in a little jazz bar that could have been in South Beach. He seemed a nice guy and spoke pretty good English. After half an hour, I asked him to take me for a ride on his Vespa.
It was now past 2 a.m. I had forgotten I was exhausted
"Hang on tight," he said, pressing my arms against his belly.
His name was Constantino, after the Roman emperor who freed Christians from the fangs of Colosseum lions by legalizing their religion in his domain. As for me, I was just glad to be saved from a potentially boring night at the hostel.
"Holy ..." I suddenly gasped.
We had stopped at an intersection below a huge white structure with imposing columns. Halfway up the marble steps rose the statue of a horseman; winged creatures perched at both ends. "This is Piazza Venezia," he said. "It's my favorite spot in Rome."
I could see why. Lights illuminated the immaculately white Vittorio Emanuele Monument, giving it a powerful aura. The mythical creatures, which looked as if they could set out flying or galloping at any time, watched over the tomb of the Unknown Soldier, a representative of all of those who'd fought and fallen in World War I. Two guards stood on either side of the tomb, day and night. (Also day and night, I would later find out, the piazza could be seen from several different spots in Rome and would keep appearing in my pictures, as if it were haunting me.)
This particular night, the sky was pitch black, contrasting sharply with the shining lights. Night birds circled the piazza and I stared up at them, open-mouthed, almost letting my helmet slide off.
By the time I left Rome, I'd have a bad case of whiplash.
"OK," Constantino said. "Let's go."
We sped away. My pulse quickened in anticipation for the next spot on the tour.
The Spanish Steps. We stopped briefly at the top; they were bathed in a yellow light, as was the Piazza di Spagna. From here we zoomed on to the Piazza del Popolo, admiring it from atop a hill.
As we got off the scooter, Constantino offered to carry my helmet, and I obliged. I pranced in front of him to the edge of the hill and held my breath as I gazed at the obelisk in the center of Piazza del Popolo and tried to make out the buildings beyond it, as they lay eclipsed by the piazza's golden light.
"It's beautiful," I finally exhaled.
Constantino smiled and came closer, leaning next to me on the wall that separated us from a painful (or fatally painless) drop onto the piazza.
"Where do you wanna go now?" he asked.
"You know where ..."
He smiled mischievously.
"I do? Hmmm ... Where?"
"I wanna go to the Colosseum ," I replied.
"All right."
We jumped back on the Vespa and rode across town once again, to the heart of Rome. I looked all around and kept seeing a number of pedestrians and policemen. Rome seemed like a safe city.
I inched closer to Constantino and his body shielded me from the cold gusts of wind (which I would miss the next day, caught in the oppressive heat of the Roman ruins). In no time, we were facing the ancient, eroded lair of beasts and gladiators. It glowed yellow and blue against the night sky.
The Colosseum was a heavy, imposing, stern, overwhelming sight to me, for both its massive size and history.
"I can't believe I'm here," I sighed as an irresistible force pulled me away from the scooter and toward the structure.
"Wait," Constantino urged. "Look at that." He pointed to a big arch on the side.
"That's my arch. Arco di Constantino."
I smiled and nodded. Constantino was not Roman, but rather Romanian. He had come to the city five years earlier, at age 19, looking for work. Now he couldn't tear himself away.
At this moment, neither could I. Like a stupefied zombie, or a person madly in love, I started to circle the Colosseum.
Constantino walked by me and reached for my hand.
"I should hold your hand so you won't fall over," he said.
I didn't argue. Later he held my hand through the ruins of Pompeii, then aboard the waterbuses in Venice…
Until it was time to leave Italy and travel on -- but not quite move on -- to my next destination.
SUN-SENTINEL
July 30, 2006
Roman holiday
The question was how to best explore this Italian city. The answer came on a Vespa, and his name was Constantino.
By Ana Ribeiro
The Vespa sped through the winding streets of Rome, high and low, on cobblestone and pavement. It squeezed between cars and competed against them for space, along with a multitude of other scooters.
A cold wind lashed my hair, bumps on the road nearly knocked me off the back. I held tightly to the rider.
"Ooh hoo!" I yelled, while tightening my grip around his waist.
"Having fun?" he asked me through the engine's noise.
"Yeeees," I replied loudly. "Thank you!"
I had met the scooter's owner only a few hours earlier, when he had checked me into my hostel. (I was in the middle of a solo, post-college backpacking tour of Europe.) After his shift he had bought me a drink in a little jazz bar that could have been in South Beach. He seemed a nice guy and spoke pretty good English. After half an hour, I asked him to take me for a ride on his Vespa.
It was now past 2 a.m. I had forgotten I was exhausted
"Hang on tight," he said, pressing my arms against his belly.
His name was Constantino, after the Roman emperor who freed Christians from the fangs of Colosseum lions by legalizing their religion in his domain. As for me, I was just glad to be saved from a potentially boring night at the hostel.
"Holy ..." I suddenly gasped.
We had stopped at an intersection below a huge white structure with imposing columns. Halfway up the marble steps rose the statue of a horseman; winged creatures perched at both ends. "This is Piazza Venezia," he said. "It's my favorite spot in Rome."
I could see why. Lights illuminated the immaculately white Vittorio Emanuele Monument, giving it a powerful aura. The mythical creatures, which looked as if they could set out flying or galloping at any time, watched over the tomb of the Unknown Soldier, a representative of all of those who'd fought and fallen in World War I. Two guards stood on either side of the tomb, day and night. (Also day and night, I would later find out, the piazza could be seen from several different spots in Rome and would keep appearing in my pictures, as if it were haunting me.)
This particular night, the sky was pitch black, contrasting sharply with the shining lights. Night birds circled the piazza and I stared up at them, open-mouthed, almost letting my helmet slide off.
By the time I left Rome, I'd have a bad case of whiplash.
"OK," Constantino said. "Let's go."
We sped away. My pulse quickened in anticipation for the next spot on the tour.
The Spanish Steps. We stopped briefly at the top; they were bathed in a yellow light, as was the Piazza di Spagna. From here we zoomed on to the Piazza del Popolo, admiring it from atop a hill.
As we got off the scooter, Constantino offered to carry my helmet, and I obliged. I pranced in front of him to the edge of the hill and held my breath as I gazed at the obelisk in the center of Piazza del Popolo and tried to make out the buildings beyond it, as they lay eclipsed by the piazza's golden light.
"It's beautiful," I finally exhaled.
Constantino smiled and came closer, leaning next to me on the wall that separated us from a painful (or fatally painless) drop onto the piazza.
"Where do you wanna go now?" he asked.
"You know where ..."
He smiled mischievously.
"I do? Hmmm ... Where?"
"I wanna go to the Colosseum ," I replied.
"All right."
We jumped back on the Vespa and rode across town once again, to the heart of Rome. I looked all around and kept seeing a number of pedestrians and policemen. Rome seemed like a safe city.
I inched closer to Constantino and his body shielded me from the cold gusts of wind (which I would miss the next day, caught in the oppressive heat of the Roman ruins). In no time, we were facing the ancient, eroded lair of beasts and gladiators. It glowed yellow and blue against the night sky.
The Colosseum was a heavy, imposing, stern, overwhelming sight to me, for both its massive size and history.
"I can't believe I'm here," I sighed as an irresistible force pulled me away from the scooter and toward the structure.
"Wait," Constantino urged. "Look at that." He pointed to a big arch on the side.
"That's my arch. Arco di Constantino."
I smiled and nodded. Constantino was not Roman, but rather Romanian. He had come to the city five years earlier, at age 19, looking for work. Now he couldn't tear himself away.
At this moment, neither could I. Like a stupefied zombie, or a person madly in love, I started to circle the Colosseum.
Constantino walked by me and reached for my hand.
"I should hold your hand so you won't fall over," he said.
I didn't argue. Later he held my hand through the ruins of Pompeii, then aboard the waterbuses in Venice…
Until it was time to leave Italy and travel on -- but not quite move on -- to my next destination.
City growth tramples family barbershop
ABOUT THE ARTICLE: It started with a call from a public relations agency for the newspaper's community news section to cover the groundbreaking of a soon-to-be-redeveloped strip mall. But by doing a little digging, I got the story behind it: small businesses being displaced while big corporate names move in.
THE MIAMI HERALD
October 16, 2005
City, developer celebrate new project
By Ana Ribeiro
Barry Solomon sat alone in his barber shop in a Miami Gardens shopping plaza Tuesday and took a dim view of the future.
Solomon was unaware that city officials and representatives of the KMACK Corporation were in the plaza. But he knew why they would be there.
"They're tearing down the whole plaza,'' Solomon said.
Mayor Shirley Gibson, Vice-Mayor Oscar Braynon II and council members Aaron Campbell Jr. and Barbara Watson joined entrepreneurs and others for the groundbreaking ceremony of what's to become a new complex at a bustling intersection.
The plaza, at Northwest 199th Street and State Road 441, has been home to Solomon's Sierra Barbershop for 20 years, he said. Now, the mom-and-pop business is set to be replaced by franchises such as Starbucks, Chili's, Subway, Footlocker and Radio Shack.
Solomon said he's been paying rent to different owners of the plaza over the years; the space never belonged to him and there's nothing he can do about the building's demolition.
"It's terrible,'' he said. "We have nowhere else to go.''
William Green, president of real estate developer KMACK, hopes to start the demolition by Nov. 1, as the new owner of the property. He bought the plaza from a company named Jimbo, negotiating with one of its principals, Norman Hickmore.
He said he paid $3.2 million for the plaza; he'll pay more than double that amount for the construction of the new project.
Green and his business partner, Christopher Benjamin, said they took out a $6.8 million loan with City National Bank to build two strip malls that will replace the plaza, filling the space with big corporate names. The strips will measure 18,000 square feet and 4,000 square feet, respectively, said Green, a former assistant to Miami Gardens City Manager Danny Crew.
"It's a new city,'' Green said. "It's an area that had been forgotten about. Now we have the opportunity to give them the services they need.''
Bill Perry III - a partner in World Wide Concessions, the company bringing a Chili's franchise - said after the groundbreaking that he plans to hire local residents to work at his restaurant.
"We want to be good neighbors,'' Perry said.
Mayor Gibson welcomed the move, saying it would bring major businesses and investments.
"I'm just elated, as well as my council, to be part of this,'' she said to the gathering of about 20 people.
In a phone interview, Crew said extra tax revenues from businesses should help the property tax rate remain stable. The construction of the new plaza will be a major step for the city's development, he said; the city, as the third biggest in Miami-Dade County, needs commercial chains to cater to the needs of its residents.
The city's only corporate restaurant is the fast-food chain Denny's, Crew said.
"I don't think you could expect this area to remain like this,'' Crew said. "Certainly, there are going to be some people hurt, but [the new complex] is going to do the city much good overall.''
The city has no control over what private property owners decide to do with their businesses, the manager said, as long as their activities are legal and meet zoning requirements.
The displacement of small businesses is a growing trend in Miami-Dade County as vacant space runs out and old businesses are torn down to give way to redevelopment, Crew said.
"We want these mom-and-pop stores to stay in the city,'' he said. "I hope they can find another location to settle in.''
In an interview during the groundbreaking ceremony, Braynon said other shopping plazas are bound to spring up and displaced businesses could move into them, if they are willing to pay the rent.
Solomon and his father, Ed Solomon, 81, said they were not informed the plaza was scheduled for demolition. They found it out when they saw an outside marquee. They were put on a month-to-month lease almost two years ago and it expired once the property was sold.
The Solomons said they called the company listed on the marquee, commercial real-estate firm NAI Miami, to indicate their interest in continuing their business in the new strips.
Ed Solomon said a man named Josh Rodstein went to the barber shop and told him the rent would go up from the current $750 a month to $7,000 if they wanted to keep the same space.
For half the space, the rent would be $3,500 a month.
KMACK's Green said NAI Miami, where Rodstein is director, is the new property manager. He said Rodstein informs him of companies interested in the plaza space but it's Green who negotiates rents, based on square footage and services provided by prospective tenants. Green said he was not aware of any negotiations with the Solomons and had never spoken to them or to any of the other tenants of the plaza.
Rodstein did not return several phone calls to his office and cellphone seeking comment.
For the Solomons, it will be the end of an era. Ed Solomon said his barber shop, a beauty shop and Tootsie's Cabaret are the only places still open in the plaza.
Tootsie's received permission from the City Council in January to relocate down the street to 18201 NW Second Ave.
Barry Solomon said Sierra Barbershop will be forced out of business because he couldn't find any other location with an affordable rent. The cheapest one he found, he said, was about $2,000 a month.
"I feel very bad,'' Ed Solomon said. "I feel sad. We have fixed customers. There are people who come to the store in wheelchairs. I won't be able to take care of them.''
THE MIAMI HERALD
October 16, 2005
City, developer celebrate new project
By Ana Ribeiro
Barry Solomon sat alone in his barber shop in a Miami Gardens shopping plaza Tuesday and took a dim view of the future.
Solomon was unaware that city officials and representatives of the KMACK Corporation were in the plaza. But he knew why they would be there.
"They're tearing down the whole plaza,'' Solomon said.
Mayor Shirley Gibson, Vice-Mayor Oscar Braynon II and council members Aaron Campbell Jr. and Barbara Watson joined entrepreneurs and others for the groundbreaking ceremony of what's to become a new complex at a bustling intersection.
The plaza, at Northwest 199th Street and State Road 441, has been home to Solomon's Sierra Barbershop for 20 years, he said. Now, the mom-and-pop business is set to be replaced by franchises such as Starbucks, Chili's, Subway, Footlocker and Radio Shack.
Solomon said he's been paying rent to different owners of the plaza over the years; the space never belonged to him and there's nothing he can do about the building's demolition.
"It's terrible,'' he said. "We have nowhere else to go.''
William Green, president of real estate developer KMACK, hopes to start the demolition by Nov. 1, as the new owner of the property. He bought the plaza from a company named Jimbo, negotiating with one of its principals, Norman Hickmore.
He said he paid $3.2 million for the plaza; he'll pay more than double that amount for the construction of the new project.
Green and his business partner, Christopher Benjamin, said they took out a $6.8 million loan with City National Bank to build two strip malls that will replace the plaza, filling the space with big corporate names. The strips will measure 18,000 square feet and 4,000 square feet, respectively, said Green, a former assistant to Miami Gardens City Manager Danny Crew.
"It's a new city,'' Green said. "It's an area that had been forgotten about. Now we have the opportunity to give them the services they need.''
Bill Perry III - a partner in World Wide Concessions, the company bringing a Chili's franchise - said after the groundbreaking that he plans to hire local residents to work at his restaurant.
"We want to be good neighbors,'' Perry said.
Mayor Gibson welcomed the move, saying it would bring major businesses and investments.
"I'm just elated, as well as my council, to be part of this,'' she said to the gathering of about 20 people.
In a phone interview, Crew said extra tax revenues from businesses should help the property tax rate remain stable. The construction of the new plaza will be a major step for the city's development, he said; the city, as the third biggest in Miami-Dade County, needs commercial chains to cater to the needs of its residents.
The city's only corporate restaurant is the fast-food chain Denny's, Crew said.
"I don't think you could expect this area to remain like this,'' Crew said. "Certainly, there are going to be some people hurt, but [the new complex] is going to do the city much good overall.''
The city has no control over what private property owners decide to do with their businesses, the manager said, as long as their activities are legal and meet zoning requirements.
The displacement of small businesses is a growing trend in Miami-Dade County as vacant space runs out and old businesses are torn down to give way to redevelopment, Crew said.
"We want these mom-and-pop stores to stay in the city,'' he said. "I hope they can find another location to settle in.''
In an interview during the groundbreaking ceremony, Braynon said other shopping plazas are bound to spring up and displaced businesses could move into them, if they are willing to pay the rent.
Solomon and his father, Ed Solomon, 81, said they were not informed the plaza was scheduled for demolition. They found it out when they saw an outside marquee. They were put on a month-to-month lease almost two years ago and it expired once the property was sold.
The Solomons said they called the company listed on the marquee, commercial real-estate firm NAI Miami, to indicate their interest in continuing their business in the new strips.
Ed Solomon said a man named Josh Rodstein went to the barber shop and told him the rent would go up from the current $750 a month to $7,000 if they wanted to keep the same space.
For half the space, the rent would be $3,500 a month.
KMACK's Green said NAI Miami, where Rodstein is director, is the new property manager. He said Rodstein informs him of companies interested in the plaza space but it's Green who negotiates rents, based on square footage and services provided by prospective tenants. Green said he was not aware of any negotiations with the Solomons and had never spoken to them or to any of the other tenants of the plaza.
Rodstein did not return several phone calls to his office and cellphone seeking comment.
For the Solomons, it will be the end of an era. Ed Solomon said his barber shop, a beauty shop and Tootsie's Cabaret are the only places still open in the plaza.
Tootsie's received permission from the City Council in January to relocate down the street to 18201 NW Second Ave.
Barry Solomon said Sierra Barbershop will be forced out of business because he couldn't find any other location with an affordable rent. The cheapest one he found, he said, was about $2,000 a month.
"I feel very bad,'' Ed Solomon said. "I feel sad. We have fixed customers. There are people who come to the store in wheelchairs. I won't be able to take care of them.''
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
