Families start storm cleanup as costs tallied So far, estimates of damage lower than amounts feared by officials BY BO PETERSEN Of The Post and Courier Staff Wendell Cross worries he'll be forgotten. The retiree watched the water rise 3 feet in his yard Sunday and swamp his home as Tropical Storm Gaston dumped nearly 14 inches of rain on St. Stephen. Preliminary assessments Monday of the destruction from the storm along the South Carolina coast and inland areas were coming in below amounts feared by officials, who compared the long-lashing wind and rain to Hurricane Floyd in 1999. The S.C. Insurance News Service reported about $5.2 million in claims as of late Monday. The four counties around Charleston estimated a total of less than $4 million. The costs are pivotal to whether the area qualifies for disaster relief money. Officials cautioned assessments were still under way. Gaston didn't hit as hard as Floyd, which caused $53 million in damage. The lower cost and sporadic damage across the Lowcountry had Cross thinking the dozen homes that flooded in this tiny upper Berkeley County town could easily be overlooked.Charleston County assessors reported scattered damage mostly in the East Cooper area. Berkeley County reported St. Stephen, Moncks Corner and Bonneau were hit hard. Lower Dorchester County had some homes damaged. While entire communities coped with the loss of power, work crews had restored electricity to all but a few Mount Pleasant businesses. Along Forrest Trail on the Isle of Palms, nearly every house had a mound of debris out front. Resident Jean Murray stacked palm branches at the edge of her lawn. Had she known Tropical Storm Gaston would blow through two weeks after Hurricane Charley, she might not have cleaned her yard, she said. Looking over the leaves and branches strewn about, she didn't think much of them. "These are minor. I was here for Hugo. I had 6 foot of water. That's a hurricane," she said. In Berkeley County, pine debris lined U.S. Highway 52 through Moncks Corner. Jason Patno, emergency management manager, said crews were trying to get through back roads where residents reported damage. Trees had fallen across homes, roads and power lines in three counties. Gov. Mark Sanford flew over the Lowcountry and met with county officials and area mayors Monday. Gaston might not even rate if Hurricane Frances hits the state, he said. Looking ahead, Sanford said, "I hope (this meeting) is not the way we spend our Labor Day." Gaston's legacy is "not the kind of catastrophic damage we see in a major hurricane." People who live in rural Berkeley County took the brunt of rain from the storm that, for them, lasted more than 12 hours. "You have to walk in the houses to see the walls buckling, the floors crumbling," Jim Rozier, Berkeley County supervisor said about damage he suspects is there but unseen by flyovers or early assessments. He watched water pour in the windows of homes in St. Stephen during the deluge. "The backside of this storm seemed to be more powerful than the front. The upper part of the county, Bonneau, St. Stephen, got hammered." Two-thirds of Berkeley Electric Cooperative's 64,000 customers lost power during the onslaught. "I don't think we've had that many out since (Hurricane) Hugo" in 1989, spokesman Eddie McKnight said. Johnny Broome, St. Stephen public works director, estimated the town's damages at more than $1 million. At one point, every street in town had flooding, he said. Like his neighbors, Wendell Cross has no flood insurance. His New Balance sneakers squished puddles a foot wide as he walked across his living room carpet. Sharon Cross, his wife, sniffled and wiped her red eyes with a shaky hand. "I'm OK until somebody tries to be nice to me," she said. Two weeks ago, Cross spent the weekend in Florida working a chain saw with a church relief effort for Hurricane Charley victims. He thought about that Sunday as he stood in the flooded street outside his home, trying to flag down motorists whose wakes were crashing waves over his porch and against his front door. A drainage ditch down the road had been dammed by beavers. The water that should have drained away didn't. The John Deere tractor in the back yard was flooded to its steering wheel. The kids' swing set was flooded nearly to the top bar. "I kept thinking it was going to crest, and it kept coming. The higher it got, the less you could do. It was a helpless feeling," Cross said. "Finally it got high enough it didn't matter anymore. It seemed like it went in through the air-conditioner vents and started spewing all over the place." On Monday, his next-door neighbor, Carl Kelly, tore out as much carpet as he could and moved what he could salvage. He and Cynthia Kelly, his wife, moved to the house two years ago after they lost their previous one in a fire. The water rose Sunday "just enough to ruin everything," she said. They were in the house at the time. "I didn't get terrified until water was all you could see outside." After Carl Kelly did as much as he could, he walked over to Cross and looked out at the water still standing in the back yard. "Are the catfish out there yet?" he kidded. Cross gave a laugh that ended in a sigh. They stared at the pine bark chunks that had floated onto and littered the porch. "You got any rooms that are empty? We can start pulling carpets out," Kelly said.
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