“The calm at the center of the storm” is usually used to describe the eye of a hurricane, but it could just as well be applied to Eddie Favre, the quietly effective mayor of battered Bay St. Louis.
From the moment that Hurricane Katrina pounded his historic town on Aug. 29, the 51-year-old Favre (pronounced Farv) –- or just plain “Bubba” to many of his constituents -- has been wrestling with the myriad difficulties that come with the loss of virtually the entire city infrastructure: urging on the depleted city work force to restore basic services, pleading for state and federal assistance and coordinating relief and rebuilding efforts with the county and neighboring Waveland.
But despite the long days of difficult decisions, the five-term mayor has remained positive in his typical low-key fashion, and accessible, holding weekly “town hall meetings” outside temporary city offices at the old train depot to update residents on the latest news on the recovery efforts and urge them to keep taking “small steps forward.”
“It’s just been easy to stay upbeat about it,” he said. “I see the attitude of our people and it’s easy enough to follow their lead.”
A divorced father of two grown sons and a distant cousin of Green Bay Packers quarterback Brett Favre, the mayor also has no trouble empathizing with what the townspeople are going through: Like most of the 8,209 residents, he lost his home to the storm.
But despite the fact that virtually all his possessions and memories were washed away along with the house that had been in his family for generations, he is able to joke about his loss.
“Where my house was … I can go out and sit on my slab and there’s nothing blocking my view,” he said.
Favre, who says his roots in the area run all the way back to its discovery by French explorers in 1699, also took a self-deprecating swipe at his wardrobe – an untucked golf shirt and khaki cut-offs.
“This is sort of what they call Eddie Favre casual,” he said. “It used to be out of choice, now it’s out of necessity.”
Kidding aside, Favre said he considers himself “blessed” because his lot was scoured clean by the surge’s tremendous power, sparing him from having to come home to a house filled with ruined possessions and tarnished memories.
“It’s not … here’s my life piled here in front of my house,” he said. “… And I know how hard it is. They have to look at it every day until the debris is picked up and they have to think about it every day.”
Favre also has won fans by insisting that he will fight to preserve the character of the core of Bay St. Louis – the old Main Street corridor that was home to most of the city’s historic buildings and its thriving art community – and by holding the line against coastal development, i.e. condominiums.
“An extra development right now is not going to make or break our city budget. It’s already broke,” he said. “So a high-rise hotel that may come in and destroy what once was, the values of what we once had … we’d just as soon not have it.”
If there’s one thing that knocks Favre off stride it’s talking about the police officers, firefighters and public works crews who worked non-stop for days after the storm even though many of them also were homeless, and the townspeople who have rallied around him and them.
“I thought we had a good crew before, but it really brought out the best of them,” he said, his voice growing thick with emotion.
“… And our people here in town, too. Like I said, we had people that lost everything, and all they were interested in doing was helping their neighbors.
…“We talk about heroes and there will be a lot of stories told about a lot of heroes once this is settled down somewhat.”
