Betting on Biloxi
BILOXI, Miss. - Olivia Boglin stood in her yard, staring down at a pile of Sheetrock. Just staring in the Mississippi heat, dabbing the sweat off her forehead with a wadded-up tissue.
A block away, a guy was riding a bicycle slow, so the front wheel swerved with each crank of the pedals.
The heat, the humidity and the noon hour had everything almost at a standstill.
Olivia looked surprised and a little worried at a stranger approaching when I walked up. I introduced myself and asked how she was doing. She thought for a minute.
“We’re doing better,” she said.
IMPROVING
And so it is in Biloxi. They’re doing better, more than a year after deadly Hurricane Katrina came through. But they have a long way to go.
Just a few blocks from Olivia’s once-gutted red-brick home, the Beau Rivage Resort & Casino was rocking. Gamblers tossed cash on the tables, guests waited in long lines at the front desk, the buffet line stretched into the lobby. Gaming is back. Most of the area’s casinos have reopened, and two new ones are planned, including the Hard Rock, which was days away from opening when Katrina struck Aug. 29, 2005.
The tables and slots were lively at major gaming houses in October, even during the day.
At the Grand Biloxi Casino, Hotel and Spa, a Harrah’s property, the new casino is open in the former Grand Casino Bayview Hotel. The refurbished hotel rooms are pretty and contemporary, with Sony CD Dream Machines at bedside. In the gym, the latest Nautilus exercise equipment is yours for $10 a day and, in the salon, they were particularly proud of the massage chairs at the shampoo sinks.
The only Starbucks on casino row (the several miles of casinos along Beach Boulevard) is in the Grand’s lobby, decked out in dark, sleek furniture beneath a sunlit dome.
Boomtown Casino was just as busy, but the atmosphere was decidedly different. Guests are greeted by “Warren the Longhorn Bull,” a stuffed … well, he’s a steer. A placard in front of Warren says in part, “When Boomtown opened on Biloxi’s Back Bay, Warren became our very first employee.” It continues with a long story about Warren fighting the hurricane. You get the idea.
Up the street at the Beau, golden chrysanthemums and pumpkins lined flowerbeds in the huge lobby. Diamonds and Tag Heuer watches flashed in display windows, waiting for lucky winners. A few steps away, departing gamblers sat forlorn with their suitcases, either sad to leave or sad to leave their money, waiting for spouses or bellhops.
Here, the gym is $15 a day for use of the equipment. Only three people were using it one weekday morning.
But the slots were busy. Len Klein of Orlando, Fla., was there with his wife, who didn’t want her name in the paper. She was working a Mr. Cashman machine with money and mojo, rubbing her hand over the screen for luck.
“You have to get rid of your money somehow. You cannot take it with you,” said Klein. They came to the Beau before the hurricane and said the hotel and casino seem exactly the same as they were before.
AN UNSURE FUTURE
Olivia said she lost hope when she came back on Labor Day to what was left of her home, about five blocks from the waterfront. The water had washed debris to the ceiling of the porch and had left the walls coated with fuzzy green mold. She and her husband, both retired and ailing, had “nothing. I didn’t have a dish towel. We didn’t have a teaspoon.”
Hope and help came in the form of volunteers. All across Biloxi and Gulfport, people who lost homes to the hurricane talked about the volunteers - and how the need for them hasn’t disappeared just because the news accounts of hurricane damage have.
Rebecca Domangue, who works in a hotel gift shop, said in mid-October that her 100-year-old home in Gulfport, which had wind and rain damage, still wasn’t fully repaired. “The church group has helped me - they are a godsend,” she said.
Like many of the people who lived through the hurricane, Domangue seems to exist in a battle between hope and aching loss. She said she’d just paid off the house when Katrina struck. But hope won when she mentioned her son in Dallas. “I’m expecting my first granddaughter,” she said, smiling wide.
SEEING THE POSITIVE
“Biloxi’s got a brilliant future,” declared Bobby Mahoney, as he sipped a glass of wine one evening in the restaurant building that his late mother bought in 1962. Mary Mahoney’s Old French House Restaurant, 110 Rue Magnolia, was one of the first places to reopen after Katrina. A few other restaurants in the area are open today - and the Katrina Memorial, a sculpture that includes a glass case full of reminders, is in the area.
Mahoney said he and the family weathered the storm in another home that his mother built after Hurricane Camille, put together with cinder blocks and rebar. Mahoney said the size of Katrina took him by surprise after they decided to wait out the storm in Biloxi. He looked out a window, and as he tells it, “I can see the pelicans swimming by.”
The restaurant is filled with pictures and memories of Mary Mahoney, quite a Biloxi character in her day and a highly successful restaurateur at a time when women weren’t often business owners. Her son has lived in Biloxi all his life.
What about that future? The casinos will save Biloxi, Mahoney said.
“Casinos are better than counterfeiting machines,” he joked. “Nothing God created is sinful.”
The irony of people essentially throwing away money less than a mile away from families living in white FEMA trailers is not lost on Mahoney. But the way he sees it, “you can’t come back here and build a home without a job,” and the casinos provide thousands of jobs.
HOME FOREVER CHANGES
The trouble is, home will never be the same.
Brandon Boudreaux mentioned that as he steered a Biloxi schooner along the beachfront. Nobody had showed up for a scheduled early-evening cruise, so he and a two-man crew took me out for an hour on the two-masted schooner, a replica of the beautiful boats known a century ago as “White Winged Queens.”
It was quiet, once we motored out of the slip and wind took us away. The sun sank below an uncluttered horizon, away from the building skeletons, casino high-rises, cranes. Here, as twilight crept over the water, Boudreaux and his crew talked about regular life - trying to quit smoking, what people made for dinner the other night.
That’s what is so sorely missing in Biloxi. Regular life is hard to find, because it’s still being put back together. Boudreaux said his infant son will grow up in a different Biloxi. Some things are “gone, can’t be replaced,” he said, looking out over the water.
Grand old homes that gave Biloxi its sense of place for a very long time may never be rebuilt. Some homes are just gone, a little rubble the only sign that something was there. In others, plywood covers the windows, but the roof is caved in. Empty slabs sit near pieces of homes left standing or houses that have been rebuilt.
Some of the homes lost are among more than 600 buildings along the Gulf Coast on the National Historic Register. One of the most familiar to tourists, Beauvoir House, Jefferson Davis Home and Presidential Library on U.S. 90, is being restored by charitable groups.
Southerners began to use Biloxi as a summer resort as early as the 1850s. The Mississippi Sound was dredged a century later to create the long, manmade beach for protection against storms. One of the earliest hurricanes along the Mississippi Gulf Coast was recorded in 1722.
Many people figured Camille, in 1969, had to be the worst. “We thought Camille was the mother of all storms, until we found out storms don’t have mothers,” Bobby Mahoney said.
Recovery from Camille was hard, but the coast eventually got a shot in the arm when the state Legislature legalized dockside gambling in 1992. The coast was booming when Katrina came - Biloxi was poised to become a top national destination for gaming.
Leaders believe the city will boom again one day, especially with a change in state law to permit land-based gambling.
The floodwaters, said Mahoney, “got our homes but they didn’t get our spirit.” A lot of people in Biloxi agree.
Stephen Richer, executive director of the Mississippi Gulf Coast Convention and Visitors Bureau, said that the region’s culture and music are still intact, in the form of a Cajun Crawfish Festival and a Mardi Gras celebration.
And, he said, “We are all in one accord to rebuild this place so we don’t lose our character.”
BELONGINGS ADRIFT
The beach is closed to swimmers now, while the cleanup continues. I walked there one afternoon, glad for the peace and the water, and found surprising, disturbing things. It was not the usual beach detritus - cans, bottles, food wrappers. Instead what washed up were pieces of the ordinary life at a home that’s gone missing: a detergent bottle, a broken, gray plastic cover that might have fit somewhere inside a car.
Janice Jones of the convention and visitor’s bureau said trees, refrigerators and roofs were being pulled out at first, and that the beach will be open for swimming once it’s cleaned for four miles out.
The walking’s good now. The problem is the view on the other side of U.S. 90, the bones of buildings that are hard to identify, except for bits of color or pieces of signs. From a practical standpoint: Stock up on beverages while you’re on another street. Katrina wiped the convenience stores off U.S. 90 in Biloxi.
THINGS THAT WERE
I wanted to head out, but Olivia persuaded me to stay and wait for the volunteer crew that was putting up Sheetrock in her house. In the meantime, she showed me what used to be. The bathroom she had redone for her husband, right before the storm. The spot where her kitchen window was.
She looked at the bare concrete floors, talked about the godchildren who were always in the house playing.
The first of the crew, Jeff Heath, came back from lunch and chatted with Olivia. He was here from Wisconsin for 10 days and had joined the volunteer effort through his church. Only one member of the crew knew how to hang Sheetrock when they arrived, he said. But the walls of Olivia’s house were nearly done after just a few days.
They’ve gotten close to one another, the crew and Olivia. She’s going to hate to see them go.
“They’re making us believe that it can be done,” she said.
Hope came after she started to see the rooms taking shape again, as the walls were framed and the Sheetrock went up. As she realized it was possible, even if the insurance didn’t pay, even if she and her husband couldn’t do the work or afford it.
There’s still a long way to go, but now?
Olivia smiled up at Jeff. “Everything is beautiful to me now.”
IF YOU GO:
GETTING THERE: A word about Gulfport-Biloxi International Airport - it’s torn apart to the rafters, not because of Katrina, but because of a massive renovation. Very little seating is provided around the ticket counters, and auto rentals are from trailers in the parking lot.
CASINO COUNT: Ten Gulf Coast casinos are open, and a lot of property is in a state of flux.
The Hard Rock, which was washed away before it could open Sept. 5, 2005, has a scheduled opening date of July 7. A new casino, the Bacaran Bay Casino Resort in Biloxi, will include an all-suite hotel and have six movie theaters, a bowling alley, a golf course and condos. It’s scheduled to open in 2008.
Some casinos changed hands - for example, the Copacabana bought the Grand Gulfport and has opened the Island View Phase I where the Grand Gulfport Oasis (the hotel) was located. Bottom line: the city of Gulfport is down to one casino instead of two.
The Casino Magic Biloxi did not rebuild, says Janice Jones of the Gulf Coast Convention and Visitors Bureau. But Harrah’s purchased the property and may use it to expand.
STAYING: I stayed at the Beau Rivage, the biggest hotel-casino open, and toured rooms at The Grand. The IP Hotel & Casino (formerly called the Imperial Palace, and the first to open after the hurricane) also has newly redone rooms. Janice Jones at the Biloxi Convention and Visitors Bureau says 68 hotels were open as of last week (137 pre-Katrina). The bureau’s Web site, www.gulfcoast.org, lists many of them.
Beau Rivage: I liked my room, which I wasn’t expecting from a casino hotel. The highlights were the marble vanities, a separate bath and shower, the flat-screen TV, nice touches (like a pretty deco-esque mirror frame and the softest blanket ever). The drawback: The walls seemed thin - I could hear the television next door late into the night. All in all, not bad for $99 a night (taxes and fees add about $10). Rooms with a gulf view are more. Information: www.beaurivage.com or call 888-567-6667 for reservations.
Grand Biloxi: That said, if I had it to do over, I’d try the Grand. The rooms are $69 and have been renovated with new beds and furniture since the hurricane. A little smaller - 325 to 375 square feet compared with the Beau’s 400. But you get a plasma TV and Sony CD Dream Machine to go with the cute, contemporary decor. I can’t vouch for noise level. Information: www.harrahs.com/casinos/grand-biloxi/hotel-casino/property-home.shtml or call 800-HARRAHS.
EATING:
Le Bakery: The best baguette in town is in the midst of the Vietnamese community, and I only wish I’d tried the French Vietnamese po-boys, which sound mouth-watering: garlic mayo, julienned carrot and daikon marinated in vinaigrette, onions, cilantro, soy, jalapeno and your choice of meat. The baguettes are both crunchy and soft, not chewy like Parisian bread, but delicious nonetheless. Owner Sue Nguyen-Brown charges $2 to $3.57 for the sandwiches, baguettes are $1.59. It’s at 280 Oak St. Phone: 228-436-0850. Closed Mondays.
Mary Mahoney’s Old French House Restaurant: According to the menu, the house was built in 1737, and it has that lovely, peeling-paint, old New Orleans charm. The fare is basic, and I had the red snapper, perfectly grilled and blanketed in a buttery, creamy sauce with crabmeat scattered over the top. It came with crawfish etouffee and a separate side dish of green beans. The salad that preceded it was cold and fresh, with blue-cheese dressing made at the restaurant. The atmosphere and service are as much reason to come here as the food - all of it was good. Entrees run as high as $43.95 for surf ‘n’ turf. Information: www.marymahoneys.com or call 228-374-0163.
Beau Rivage: The buffet is your usual casino buffet. Huge selection, lots of fried food. My catfish was dry. So was the okra and jambalaya, and they’d just put it out. It’s $11.99 for lunch. The Beau plans to open three fine dining restaurants, but none was open while I was there. The Terrace Cafe is OK for breakfast and Coast is fine for casual fare like sandwiches. The gelato at Scoops, an ice cream parlor in the hotel, is made by the Beau’s pastry chef and was worth a trip or two downstairs. If you’re on any kind of budget, you might want to give room service a second thought, especially if you want mixed nuts - they’re $15 plus an automatic 18 percent gratuity and a $2 “guest delivery charge.” (No, I didn’t get them; I just saw them on the menu.)
General: I didn’t eat at any of the others, but most of the casinos have restaurants, and most offer buffets. The IP’s new churrascuria looked interesting, and the Grand Biloxi’s Lb’s Steakhouse was attractive. Other than that, most options in town are the usual chains.
NIGHTLIFE: It’s all about the casinos, obviously. The crowd changes about 9 p.m. from retirees on scooters to 20- and 30-somethings in heels. Don’t worry about how to dress. I saw people dressed to the nines and draped in gold sitting next to those in jeans and sweat shirts. The Beau also is bringing in entertainers; the December lineup includes Boyz II Men, Olivia Newton-John and Little Richard.
SHOPPING: Many shops at the casinos hadn’t opened, but publicists said they hope to open around Christmastime. Meanwhile, you can drive to Prime Outlets in Gulfport and shop at Banana Republic, Nike, Coach, etc. www.primeoutlets.com