by Ted
Cushman
Justine, a plantation home moved to Lakeshore Drive in
Mandeville, La., sits on a new 15-foot pier foundation. The
renovated home was one of the few lakefront buildings to survive
the surge rushing over the seawall when Katrina struck.
The storm surge washing over a 6-foot seawall on the north shore of
Lake Pontchartrain packed nothing like the destructive punch of the
25-foot wall of water that scoured beaches and obliterated houses
on Mississippi's Gulf Coast, a scant 90 miles away. Even so, the
Pontchartrain wave took its toll on August 29, 2005. From where I
stood just two weeks after the storm, I could see homes and
storefronts that had been battered into scrap up and down
Mandeville's Lakeshore Drive. By then, light traffic had begun
flowing across the causeway past a now-quiet lake. The silence in
the nearly deserted neighborhood was interrupted only by the
occasional squawk of a utility truck's two-way radio as a lone crew
worked to patch in power.
No Chip off the Block
Amid the near-total ruin along Lakeshore Drive, one person worked
determinedly in the heat, loading small bits of debris into a
wheelbarrow. I mistook Clayton J. ("Chip") Borne III for a worker
getting started on rebuilding the neighborhood, but he promptly
corrected me: "I'm an attorney. A paranoid, compulsive attorney."
And he was happy to report how he insisted on having his house
"overbuilt" — as some might have called it before
the storm.
Unlike the totally wrecked structures on either side, Borne's house
— which was originally built in the 1840s — was
essentially untouched by the storm's wave, estimated to be more
than 10 feet high (Figure 1). He would be able to move back in as
soon as crews brought power to the site.
Figure 1. Originally built in the 1840s, the
Borne residence (above) suffered only minor damage during Hurricane
Katrina. Wind damaged an upstairs window, and the surge washed out
the stair railings, but otherwise the home stood firm.
Unfortunately, homes on either side of it (bottom photos) did not
fare as well.
The house, Borne told me, had been renovated just a year earlier:
"We took off everything that was sawn lumber and round nails, right
down to the hewn beams and square nails." The building was stripped
to its original framing, resided, the roof rebuilt and covered with
new slate, and — most important in terms of simple survival
— the whole house elevated to 17 feet above sea level (see
"Flood-Proofing Basics" at the bottom ).
Borne pointed to the mark where the floodwaters had peaked, 18
courses of brick above the slab-on-grade floor under the house.
Breakaway wall partitions between the brick arches, lightly pinned
with plastic fasteners, had done their job; so had the steel- and
concrete-reinforced piers behind the brick facade (Figure 2). "I
told our mayor, ‘These rules y'all have are a pain, but they
work!' " Borne exclaimed. "It costs more to do it this way, but
it's cost effective."
Figure 2. The grid work of steel beams used to
lift the Borne house remained in place, posted on steel columns
encased in concrete. Initially, the city balked over whether the
brick infill arches would provide sufficient clearance for the
surge, but eventually allowed them. Katrina affirmed the
decision.
Architect Lynn Mitchell, who designed the restoration work and an
addition on the house's north side, later told me the original
1840s structure didn't need much reinforcing. "It was already
pretty rugged," Mitchell explained. Heavy post-and-beam timbers
were connected by pegged mortise-and-tenon joints, and the spaces
between the posts were filled in with brick, a traditional French
Colonial method known as brique entre poteaux ("brick
between posts").
To lift the building, house movers assembled a steel I-beam frame
bolted under the original heavy sills and floor girders. The steel
frame stayed in place as part of the new structure, with the
I-beams bolted to 5-inch concrete-filled pipe columns set on
concrete spread footings. The pipe columns themselves, their feet
poured into a new slab floor, were then buried within
reinforced-concrete brick-faced open-arch walls. In line with each
column, steel hurricane straps were fixed to the original timbers
and into the addition walls and new roof framing, creating a
continuous bearing path for wind uplift loads.
Justine
A few houses down from the Borne residence sits another recent Lynn
Mitchell project, the Justine plantation house (lead photo).
Relocated from its original site on a bayou plantation (Figure 3),
this building had been floated to Mandeville on a barge over Lake
Pontchartrain (Figure 4) and placed on a new foundation on
Lakeshore Drive, where it now holds offices (Figure 5). "That one
did even better than Chip Borne's house," Mitchell said. "It wasn't
touched. Justine has become the poster child for FEMA around
here."
Figure 3. Originally built on a plantation on
Bayou Teche in 1822, Justine was first renovated in the 1840s. In
1965, the house was moved by barge 65 miles south across the bayou
to a site near New Iberia, where it is as shown here (at right)
just before it was bought in 2001 and then again moved, in 2003, by
barge (below), up the canal and over Lake Pontchartrain to
Mandeville.
Figure 4. On its way to Lake Pontchartrain and
eventually to its resting place on Lakeshore Drive in Mandeville,
Justine, supported on a grid of steel, is pulled upriver on a barge
(top). At the Mandeville seawall (bottom), the entire home is
rolled off the barge and towed across the street to the corner of
Gerard Street and Lakeshore Drive.
"Actually, it was touched," jests Michael O'Brien, the general
contractor on the project. "It kissed the ceiling underneath and
knocked a couple of ceiling boards out. But yeah, it was basically
untouched."
Figure 5. Justine now sits on steel piles. The
majority of the pilings were encased by concrete masonry units to
FEMA specification (top and bottom), then stuccoed. In front,
behind the stairs, tapered columns were constructed of brick and
then stuccoed using a 2x4 as a screed and an adjustable metal ring
as a template. The finished columns can be seen in the lead photo
(page 2).
I had caught up with O'Brien by phone, eager to learn what he
thought of the latest state rulings: On November 21, 2005,
Louisiana lawmakers overwhelmingly approved a bill mandating a
statewide construction code. They did not adopt specific building
standards but simply established a code council with the authority
to adopt the latest standards recommended by the International Code
Council. The state had already adopted the 2003 International
Building Code in December 2004. Would the change affect the way
O'Brien works, I wondered?
Probably not much. O'Brien pointed out that elevated foundations
have been required in St. Tammany Parish, La., since 1978. The area
has been on the federal disaster radar since Hurricane Betsy roared
through in 1965, bringing its own 10-foot wave that swamped
Mandeville as well as New Orleans. Betsy had been the worst flood
disaster since the hurricane of 1947 and the first United States
hurricane to produce more than $1 billion in damages. Since
"Billion-Dollar Betsy," St. Tammany Parish has received 16
Presidential Disaster Declarations, more than any other parish in
the state.
Repetitive flooding hazards prompted Mandeville to institute basic
flood elevation requirements in 1978 to conform to FEMA's
guidelines for storm-resistant construction, in compliance with the
National Flood Insurance Program. This meant that anyone wanting
flood insurance had to comply with city rules.
"I remember those rules biting me almost 30 years ago," recalls
O'Brien. "The clients wanted their house 3 feet off the ground, and
the building inspector came along and shut the job down. They made
us pick it up to 10 feet."
In 2003, Mandeville adopted a new ordinance that raised the
required elevation to between 15 and 17 feet above sea level for
all new houses and major renovations on the lakefront. This allowed
Mandeville to be reclassified on the Flood Insurance Rating Map,
and lowered insurance premiums for area residents.
O'Brien insists that not much has really changed. "We've been doing
it right all along," he explains. "This is the suburbs, and to
qualify for flood insurance, everybody has known that you have to
be elevated on pier foundations. Whether the height is 10 or 17
feet, that is just a detail."
History Lesson
The key point, observes O'Brien, is a lesson in history. The
old-time builders knew what to do all along, and, indeed, today
it's mostly the older historic buildings on the lakefront that have
proven themselves most resilient to handle the flood. "Sometime in
the 1930s and 1940s they started building low, without even
thinking that the lake would get angry," O'Brien says.
The lake's anger is clearly evident now up and down Lakeshore
Drive, where most houses facing the lake had been Bluto-punched by
the wave. When I visited, the guts of each residence lay strewn
over the front lawns. Just a block back from the water, few houses
showed significant damage. The rest of the town suffered heavy wind
damage, mostly from falling trees, but it could have been far
worse. Mandeville was on the back side of the storm: "If we had
been closer to the eye, we would have lost a lot more houses,"
O'Brien notes.
According to O'Brien, present-day requirements for resisting both
wind and wave are straightforward: Lift the house and tie it down.
"The straps are easy to put on," he urges. "We have nail guns to do
that now." But as easy as it might be to comply, O'Brien has few
illusions about building the totally storm-proof house. "A 100-foot
tree falling on a house — you can't build for that. And some
people on the coast had their houses up 17 feet — brand-new
houses strapped like crazy. But a 20-foot, 30-foot wall of water
came through, and now there is nothing left. The house is just
completely gone. You can't build for that, either." ~
SPECIFICATIONS FOR MASONRY PIERS IN COASTAL
REGIONS

Contributing editor Ted Cushman reported this story while traveling
to the Gulf Coast to assist in the aftermath of Hurricane Katrina
in September.
Resources
FEMA 55. Based on a large and convincing body of data
provided during the unusually active 2004 and 2005 hurricane
seasons, homes built to the details specified in the Coastal
Construction Manual (FEMA 55) are capable of surviving the most
powerful tropical storms. This lengthy and comprehensive document
is available free as a printed report (enough to fill a 4-inch
binder) and as an interactive CD-ROM direct from the FEMA
Publications Distribution Facility, 800-480-2520.
FEMA 499. FEMA has also produced a series of 31 fact
sheets (FEMA 499) that summarize the basic NFIP regulatory
requirements and provide information about proper siting of coastal
buildings, protecting utilities, detailing connections, and
weatherizing the building enclosure (http://www.fema.gov/fima/mat/fema499.shtm).
Flood-Proofing Basics
In compliance with requirements laid out by the National Flood
Insurance Program (NFIP), all buildings in A and V zones must be
built above the Base Flood Elevation (BFE). This means that the
structural elements of the lowest floor must be elevated above a
height determined by a statistical analysis of the last 100 years
of flooding. There is no single A- or V-zone requirement used on a
nationwide basis. Instead, each local community adopts its own
certification procedures and documents, which comply with minimum
NFIP requirements.
Wave resistance
Waves exert enormous pressures on buildings. While winds wield
pressures in the tens of pounds per square foot, a 2- to 3-foot
wave can exert pressures in the hundreds or even thousands of
pounds per square foot. A 10-foot wave such as that coming over the
Mandeville seawall during Katrina packed several thousand pounds of
force per square foot — far higher than any ordinary solid
walls could resist. To minimize failure in such an event, the NFIP
calls for an open foundation on piles or columns that puts the home
above the BFE. This allows the waves to wash harmlessly under the
building.
To prevent the foundation from collapsing under the severe lateral
force of the wave, no solid structure can enclose the columns; only
lattice, screen, or breakaway walls are allowed. In some
jurisdictions, even breakaway walls may not be allowed, because
they are difficult to monitor after a building is occupied. Owners,
anxious to maximize space, often convert enclosed areas into living
space by adding wiring, plumbing, countertops, partition walls, and
closets — all of which reduce the ability of these walls to
break away easily. Instead of breaking free and dissipating the
force, the full brunt of the wave is transferred to the columns,
increasing the chances that they will buckle.
Load paths
As important as dispersing the force of the waves, the structure
above the lowest floor elevation must be designed and constructed
to resist flotation, collapse, and lateral movement. Of these
forces, lateral movement is perhaps the most likely event because
of the extreme wind forces during a hurricane that threaten to
push, lift, and overturn the structure. In this case, the primary
line of defense is a vertical load path, made with metal connectors
to firmly anchor all the structural connections from the foundation
columns to the roof.
V-ZONE OPEN FOUNDATION
In V zones, the space between ground level and lowest floor
elevation must be free of obstructions, including diagonal bracing,
equipment, or other fixed objects that can transfer flood loads to
the foundation.