Tom Leto leads with good manners and gratification at the most dire of times.
By WILL VAN SANT
Published September 12, 2004
After a night of anxious sleep, Tom Leto awoke before dawn Sept. 4 and went to St. Anthony's Catholic Church in Brooksville. He asked the priest to bless him.
From church, Leto headed to the Emergency Operations Center, tucked into a back room of the Hernando County Sheriff's Office, and waited for Hurricane Frances to arrive. It was up to him to manage the county's response.
Days later, after the storm had passed and recovery had begun, his wife, Marcia, was able to reach him. It was Tuesday evening. The generator was out of fuel, and Marcia did not want to face a night alone in the dark.
Leto told his wife he would leave the center and was on his way home. But one thing first: He had to stop at the Wal-Mart Supercenter in Brooksville to make sure ice was being handed out as planned. It was about 5 p.m.
When Leto arrived, some 200 people were lined up. To Leto's eye, they were obviously poor people, those least able to handle the deprivations of disaster. The truck with the ice had not arrived.
"I wanted to know what we were doing was meeting their needs," said Leto, who was raised in the projects of Gary, Ind. "That was very stressful for me. My family didn't have anything. So I understand clearly."
With a few well-placed phone calls, a distressed Leto learned that the driver had gone to the wrong location. The misunderstanding was resolved. The ice arrived.
Marcia Leto admits to some frustration that, during such times, her husband may have to ask family to wait so he can tend to the needs of the many. But by 9 p.m., Leto had gotten home, had the generator running and fixed everything, Marcia said, as usual.
They had not seen each other since Leto left early Saturday for St. Anthony's.
"He knows what it is to be home without food," she said. "Tough times build character. It bothers him to know people are suffering."
Hurricane Frances has been the first real test for Leto, who became the county's emergency management director in May of last year. Before coming to Hernando, Leto spent a decade as an emergency management specialist for Pinellas County.
He and Marcia live in Brooksville. She is a plans examiner for the county Development Department.
In the charged atmosphere and close quarters of the operations center, Leto spent the past week coordinating the efforts of dozens of county employees and volunteers.
Even as an approaching Hurricane Ivan was projected on a wall-to-ceiling screen, they helped house those displaced by Frances, fed them, got them medical attention, planned debris pickups, urged utilities to restore power and worked to ensure that Hernando residents would be eligible for federal aid.
People slept on chairs and cots. Sixteen-hour to 24-hour workdays were common - even for the man in charge.
"He has worked as many hours as the people in this office," said county social services director Jean Rags. "He was calm and cool."
Rags was struck by how appreciative Leto was of the folks who did the small things - the thank you to the woman who kept the coffee flowing all night or to the man who spoke up to handle some small, outstanding chore.
But nothing so impressed her, she said, as when Leto, just before Frances struck, decided he would not wait for the state to provide aid to Hernando, but would mobilize a network of private companies and churches that he had cultivated for a year.
"He said, "Jean, I'm not going to wait for state resources. Our people are going to be in need. We need water and ice,' " Rags said.
Leto likens his job to that of an orchestra conductor, and he values capable, creative colleagues who can solve problems quickly. That's what Leto said he has found in Hernando, and he is quick to credit those with whom he works.
Yet it was clear at the operations center that Leto was the leader. In the days following Frances, he literally could not walk five steps without having another question put to him, another problem, another request.
Each new encounter was dealt with calmly, no raised voices or even angry looks.
"I'm not the type to yell at somebody" Leto said. "I don't like to be yelled at. It's counterproductive. You have to keep your mind clear."
That's not to say Leto cannot speak bluntly. He will crack the whip when needed.
Last Monday, while getting updates from local utility providers, Leto listened while a Withlacoochee River Electric Cooperative worker told him about crews on the road and the number of company customers without power.
Then came the Progress Energy Florida representative, who told Leto the company had not given the go-ahead to send repair crews into the field.
The storm had kicked up fiercely Monday morning, but by afternoon things had quieted. Leto pointed out that Withlacoochee had started work. Things outside were bad. But not that bad.
"You can work in this," Leto told the man from Progress Energy.
The next day, the company's crews were in Hernando.
When Leto spoke with the St. Petersburg Times on Thursday, it appeared increasingly likely that Hurricane Ivan would strike Florida. But Leto cautioned that it was dangerous to focus on the impending threat, which was not yet certain, and let it distract from dealing with the task at hand.
"I know that at some point this weekend I am going to have to look at it and start to make decisions," he said. "The gears will shift when they are supposed to."
