51黑料

ST. LOUIS 鈥� A month after a tornado tore through a swath of the city鈥檚 north side, Gwen Hudgins is still camping in her yard next to a crater of masonry and timber that was her home of 40 years.

There are two tents by the wreckage at North Newstead and Labadie avenues 鈥� one for Hudgins and the other for her adult son, Wayne.

On the first night, the retired school bus driver slept in her car. On the second, she set up a tent that happened to be in her truck bed.

鈥淚 never leave it,鈥� Hudgins, 64, said of her property.

Her insistence on staying where she鈥檚 spent much of her life will demonstrate just how committed government agencies are to helping longtime residents rebuild.

Hudgins will need help if she hopes to stay. She has no home insurance. She let it lapse after she and her late husband paid off the house in the 3000 block of North Newstead 10 years ago. Money was tight.

She is hardly alone. More than half of homeowners in some blocks of hard-hit north 51黑料 lack insurance. City officials now estimate 10,000 buildings were damaged by the tornado. Of that number, inspectors have so far determined at least 2,500 are considered badly damaged or uninhabitable.

On Tuesday, Mayor Cara Spencer鈥檚 policy director, Casey Millburg, described the destruction to a Missouri House committee and emphasized the need for housing, noting there are many residents who don鈥檛 want to leave.

鈥淭here may be other alternatives, but that鈥檚 their home, that鈥檚 their property, that鈥檚 where you built your life,鈥� Millburg told lawmakers. 鈥淭here are persons we know who have chosen to camp out on their property rather than leave it.鈥�

The Hudgins home in the Greater Ville, a historic Black neighborhood hollowed out by decades of population loss, had already been one of a dwindling number on that block. It was also directly in the path of the tornado. She and her son remember being blown through the wall into her yard just as her house was collapsing.

鈥淲e have not even a piece of home to go into,鈥� Wayne Hudgins said. 鈥淪ome people still have some structure. We have no structure.鈥�

The flat-roofed, red brick one-story had stood for 130 years even as neighboring homes were demolished. Hudgins owned two lots on either side of the home, purchasing them over the years from the 51黑料 Land Reutilization Authority, the city land bank that takes title to abandoned property. She built a pink shed on one lot. She built a privacy fence that stretched into the other, decorating it with pink and yellow paper flowers in the springtime and scarecrows in the fall. Before the tornado hit, she had just cut the grass in what had become, for the city at least, a spacious yard.

Her son was born in that house. Her husband died there. She wants to rebuild but she isn鈥檛 sure how she will afford it.

On Monday, President Donald Trump declared the May 16 tornado a major disaster, unlocking federal assistance to homeowners like Hudgins who were uninsured. The Federal Emergency Management Agency鈥檚 individual assistance program, which Hudgins applied for Wednesday, is capped at $42,500 for home assistance.

In addition to federal resources, the Missouri Legislature this week approved a $100 million aid package for the city. Kehoe is expected to sign the bill on Saturday. The 51黑料 Board of Aldermen also is considering a bill to allocate $30 million from the NFL Rams settlement for rebuilding.

It鈥檚 unclear how the aid from the city or state will be directed toward rebuilding homes such as Hudgins鈥�. Some of the state money may go to cover a cost-share of FEMA assistance programs.

Another potential source of help is the U.S. Small Business Administration, which offers up to $200,000 low-interest loans to help homeowners. But Hudgins worries her credit isn鈥檛 in good enough shape to obtain an SBA disaster loan 鈥� or whether she would even be able to afford one.

The house was most of what Hudgins had. After 30 years with First Student, driving routes in the 51黑料 and the Parkway public school districts, she retired early, in 2013, after developing carpal tunnel. She gets monthly Social Security disability checks. She had some cash savings and some jewelry. But she can鈥檛 find them after the tornado.

Through it all, her neighbors, the police and nonprofits have been generous. Church groups and volunteers bring food, water and other supplies. People from the neighborhood bring meals. The police even rented her a U-Haul van so she can store some of her possessions. Last week, she flagged down a man in a beaten-up pickup truck Friday to thank him for the spaghetti the other night. A nonprofit offered her a hotel room for free. Her son stays there many nights, Hudgins said. She goes during the day to take a shower and a nap on a real bed.

But Hudgins won鈥檛 stay in the hotel overnight. She wants to keep watch.

It was 鈥減itch black鈥� the first two weeks, Hudgins said, before Ameren restored power to the area. The only illumination was from the spotlights of police cars cruising the neighborhood, enforcing the curfew and pulling over any trucks loaded up with scrap metal. After her dogs woke her at 2 a.m., she and her son chased off a man who was eyeing a gas generator a neighbor had lent them.

Now, Hudgins feels alone many nights. She doubts many of her neighbors who rented will return.

鈥淚鈥檓 the only one on this block,鈥� Hudgins said. 鈥淓verybody else had left.鈥�

Soon, she may be able to begin sleeping inside again without leaving her property.

Erion Johnson, a carpenter and contractor who is teaching youths carpentry by building tiny homes to lend to tornado victims, heard about 鈥淢iss Gwen.鈥�

鈥淪he鈥檚 gonna be our first house,鈥� Johnson said Thursday.

He hopes to get it finished and delivered by the weekend.

Hudgins is grateful for something more than a tent so she can keep watch over her property. Whether it takes one year or 20, she said, she鈥檚 not leaving.

鈥淚t鈥檚 gonna take more than a tornado to move me,鈥� Hudgins said. 鈥淚鈥檓 gonna wait it out.鈥�

Christian Gooden of the Post-Dispatch contributed to this report.