The reopening of their Winn-Dixie tells residents the storm-ravaged town that life is almost back to normal.
By TOM ZUCCO, Times Staff Writer
Published January 13, 2005
[Times photo: James Borchuck]
Members of Wauchula Elementary School's student council lead residents and community leaders in the Pledge of Allegiance during a reopening ceremony for the Wauchula Winn-Dixie store Wednesday. The store has been closed since August, when it was heavily damaged by Hurricane Charley.
[Times photo: James Borchuck]
Winn-Dixie employee Joyce Fennell, left, helps customer Dorothy Makinen shop after the Wauchula store's reopening Wednesday.
WAUCHULA - Under an archway of red, white and blue balloons, the mayor gave a speech recognizing everyone connected to the place he called "our unofficial town hall."
Then the Rev. Jimmy Morse, from over at Northside Baptist Church, gave thanks for the rebirth they had gathered to celebrate. Finally, the Hardee County Junior High Marching Wildcats raised their flutes and clarinets and played a series of fight songs.
Standing at the edge of the crowd Wednesday morning, Meredith Wilcox kept eyeing the door. It had been five months since this Winn-Dixie store - her Winn-Dixie store - had been slammed by the first of three hurricanes and forced to close.
Kind of like the whole town.
But every day, she said, life here gets a little better. And with the Winn-Dixie reopening, it got better by a lot.
"I know it's a small thing, but not to us," said Wilcox, 59. "This is a symbol that Wauchula has survived. The speeches and the ceremony are nice. But I can't wait to get inside and see people I've known most of my life."
The reopening ceremony of a chain grocery store does not usually attract the attention of CNN and six or seven local media outlets. This one did. Because of where it is.
After Hurricane Charley made landfall on the southwest Florida coast Aug. 13, the storm followed U.S. 17 northeast to Wauchula. More than 2,000 homes in Hardee County were destroyed, and many businesses were heavily damaged from winds as high as 110 mph.
Winn-Dixie store No. 667 on U.S. 17 had its roof torn off by Charley, and as repairs were being made, the area was rocked again by hurricanes Frances and Jeanne. The local Wal-Mart and Kash 'n Karry stores reopened soon after, but the Winn-Dixie was reduced to little more than a shell.
While it was closed, most of the store's 78 employees were reassigned to other Winn-Dixies in nearby Arcadia, Bartow, Lake Wales or Avon Park. Most of the usual customers switched to the Wal-Mart down the street or the Kash n' Karry across town.
But for many, it wasn't the same. Seeing the wreckage of a store that has been in town for more than 30 years was a daily reminder of the hardships they faced.
Wauchula, a Seminole Indian word meaning Bird-in-the-Nest, was incorporated in 1903 and today is a town of some 4,500 people, about 40 percent of them Hispanic.
The town has no movie theater, but there is the Bowl-Of-Fun Lanes (12 lanes, no waiting). Everybody knows everybody else's business. "And that," Morse said, "can be both good and bad."
The median home value is about $56,000, and many of those homes still have blue plastic tarps on their roofs and piles of twisted metal and insulation in their front yards.
Businesses didn't fare much better, including the local McDonald's and Severt's produce company, which are still being repaired.
"When FEMA comes in and tells you 46 percent of your businesses will never reopen, you get excited when one does," Mayor David Royal said after the ceremony. "This is a small rural community, with a lot of your mom and pop businesses operating month to month. A big storm completely takes them out."
But the hurricanes, Royal said, wouldn't destory Wauchula's spirit. The Little League baseball fields were one of the first things repaired.
After Charley hit, the Winn-Dixie parking lot was used as a staging area for relief efforts, and Broward County sent law enforcement officers to town to help maintain order. They were somewhat surprised, Royal said, at what they found. People cheering and waving.
"With all five fingers," Royal said. "People without electricity were asking if they could get the officers cold drinks.
"In the big towns, you don't see that."
Just after 9 a.m., Winn-Dixie CEO Peter Lynch cut the red ribbon across the front door and the store officially reopened. All but a handful of the former employees are back.
The reopening was like a reunion. As customers flowed in, they found store employees they hadn't seen in months and hugged them. When an announcement was made over the public address system, a women turned to her two friends. "Hey," she said. "That's Martha."
Although it's one of more than 1,000 Winn-Dixie stores and offers many of the same things the other grocery stores in town do, the other stores just aren't the same, said Tom Henry, a 61-year-old retired paper mill worker who pumped his fist as he walked in. "I don't go to grand openings," he said. "I hate crowds. But the people here are so nice."
Store manager Brad Simpson hurried from one part of the store to another, answering questions and shaking hands. "I can't tell you how many people in the last five months came up to me and asked, "When are you going to reopen?' " he said. "People come here just to visit. They may only buy a soda. But that's okay."
Over in the health and beauty aisle, Joyce Fennell was trying to find some soap. Fennell, 67, grew up in Avon Park and has worked for Jacksonville-based Winn-Dixie for 38 years. "I'm glad to be home," she said.
With her was Dorothy Makinen, who was seated in a wheelchair because of a back injury. Fennell was pushing both Makinen and her cart, which had a red carnation, a gift from the store, sticking out of the side.
Makinen asked to see an item, and Fennell would bring it to her. They had been shopping for several minutes when Fennell left and returned moments later with a cup of water. Makinen had a pill to take.
"Next week this will all be back to normal and you won't see anyone," she said.
"Now Dorothy," Fennell said. "You know I'll always be here."
A grin crept across Makinen's face.
"I know," she said. "Now I need some Kleenex."
Fennell got back behind the wheelchair and leaned into it. "Okay," she said. "We'll head for that."
