What Went Wrong > Miami Herald, December 20, 1992 > Page 7
SPECIAL REPORT: WHAT WENT WRONG
DO BUILDERS' BUCKS BUY POLITICAL POWER?
LISA GETTER Herald Staff Writer
December 20, 1992
Page: 7SR
As developers transformed the landscape of Dade County in the decade before Hurricane Andrew, more and more of their money fueled Metro Commission campaigns.
In 1980, building interests contributed almost one of every four campaign dollars collected, a Miami Herald analysis of campaign contributions showed. In 1986, when construction was booming, the building industry gave at least one of every three campaign dollars.
"Contributions from builders helped make it easier, quicker and more profitable for them to build," said political strategist Philip Hamersmith.
"People don't give contributions for better government reasons. They give for greater access to the County Commission and ultimately, to get the action or position they want."
To study the local political clout of the building industry, The Herald created a computer database to analyze major campaign contributions to Metro Commission candidates. The
commission has the final say over zoning and revisions to the South Florida Building Code. It also appoints the Board of Rules and Appeals, the panel that oversees the code.
The database included contributions of $100 or more that were given to any commission candidate who collected at least $20,000 for the six elections between 1980 and 1990. The study was limited to contributions of $500 or more for the 1988 election. The final database included 17,268 contributions.
It showed that:
* Building money accounted for about 27 percent of the money collected by commission candidates during the study period.
* Builders contributed about $2.2 million in the six elections -- more money than was collected in any single election year by all major candidates combined.
* More than half of the money that came from builders throughout the study period was contributed during the 1986 and 1988 elections, years when there was increased growth in the county.
* Political dollars from builders peaked in 1986, when 38 percent of the money collected came from the construction industry.
* Contributions from builders dropped significantly in 1990 to the 20 percent level, where they had been in 1982.
Engineer Herbert Gopman said his tenure on the Board of Rules and Appeals illustrates the power campaign money can buy.
Records show that Mayor Steve Clark appointed Gopman to the board in 1984, but Gopman said he really was the appointee of the trade unions.
Former Commissioner Beverly Phillips said appointments to the board often were made the way Gopman described. "We used to call the building and zoning people or the unions or the building trades" for names of nominees, she said. In hindsight, she said, it was "maybe the fox going into the hen house."
Gopman said trade unions considered him accountable to them. The study showed trade unions contributed about $80,500 to commissioners.
"In a controversial matter, they will call you out and say, 'You've got to vote this way.' I didn't always meet their demands," Gopman said. "I wasn't reappointed."
The 1992 grand jury concluded last week that "parts of the construction industry continually exert undue influence" on the board's decisions.
Homeowners' representatives say they are powerless to raise the kind of money that comes from the building industry.
"It's very difficult. You can sit and have a party for a commissioner and maybe raise $1,000 or $2,000," said Neal Alper, an officer in the Kendall Federation of Homeowners Associations. "But a developer, who stands to make hundreds of thousands of dollars in profits, can just contribute $1,000 at a time."
Chuck Lennon, the executive director of the Builders Association of South Florida, said the 1,100-member organization's political action committee contributes money every year to commission candidates -- about $23,000 during the decade, the study showed. Before contributing money, the PAC interviews candidates and makes endorsements.
"The only thing it does is give you entry. It doesn't give you their vote, but it does give you an opportunity to get their ear," Lennon said.
Mayor Clark, who received more money from builders than any other candidate, said he thinks builders supported him because he had been a general contractor. "If builders contributed to my campaign, I thank them for that," he said. "I didn't give them special treatment."
Former Commissioner Phillips, who often voted against builders, said she never sought their money. But she said she would at least listen to people who contributed to her.
"They gave money to me just so they could have my ear on occasion," she said.
The Latin Builders Association also interviews candidates and makes endorsements. Although its political action committee contributed only $8,000 throughout the decade, individual members have contributed hundreds of thousands of dollars more.
Among past and present LBA members who contributed more than $10,000 during the decade, either individually or through their firms, were homebuilder Pedro Adrian, developers Erelio Pena, Jesus Portela and Felix Lima, engineering contractor Rolando Iglesias and plumbing company owner Sergio Pino.
"It gives you an open door with the commissioner. You're at least able to get an appointment with a commissioner and explain your case," said LBA executive director William Delgado.
Once the LBA board of directors decides who it will support, the organization sends a mailing to its approximately 1,000 members. The group also holds fund-raisers. It raised $45,000 for Sherman Winn at a 1986 fund-raiser and $77,000 for Clara Oesterle at a 1988 fund-raiser.
Under the guidance of zoning lawyer Tom Carlos, the LBA was successful in persuading the commission in 1985 to open 2,900 acres to development in West and Southwest Dade.
"There was a period there when the commission was definitely dominated by pro-development views. That can best be shown by votes on Master Plan applications," said Metro Commissioner Harvey Ruvin.
Ruvin voted against most of the changes in the county land- use plan. "As it turns out, a lot of that development, especially in the Southwest, did experience extreme hurricane damage," he said.
After the 1985 hearings, Carlos told the LBA leadership it needed to financially support the commissioners who voted for the changes.
"These events were very important," Carlos said in a 1988 interview about the fund-
raisers. "I wanted the commissioners to associate faces with contributions. Later, when we go to the commission on an application, I want the commissioners to think of the individual contributors when they see me. I want them to be accountable to the person who is an applicant and my client."
Reginald Walters, who retired this year after 28 years as Metro planning director, said special interests contribute money "to keep in good favor with the commissioners."
"As long as I had been with Dade County, growth had been very rampant and very strong and the building industry had always had a great influence over the commission," Walters said.
ANDREW'S WINDS EXPOSED FLAWS IN INSPECTION SYSTEM
Continued from Page 6SR,
INSPECTIONS: A BREAKDOWN IN THE SYSTEM
LISA GETTER Herald Staff Writer
inspections, saying he had jeopardized the public's safety. The surveillance showed that he spent 64 minutes of his day making 38 inspections, approving 30.
"That's in the past," Varona said in a recent interview. "That's over with me."
The computer showed that Varona had logged five days with more than 50 inspections, including the day in 1990 he reported making 82. Varona said he did not remember ever doing that many in a day. The most, he said, was "probably 50 or 55."
Everett said the high number of inspections he performed is misleading because he worked long days. The computer showed 40 times since 1988 when he was sent out on more than 50 inspections in a day.
"The grand jury had a report. They said you can't do that many. What I would say is go to the homeowner who reported seeing me at 8:30 p.m.," he said. "I have had many people come up to me after the hurricane and say, 'Mr. Everett, you may not remember me, but you inspected my house and it's still standing.' "
Tucker, the inspector who did 68 inspections in one day in 1988, said it's possible to do an excellent job if all the inspections are in the same neighborhood and many are rejected. The computer database indicates on that day he rejected 13 inspections and the remainder -- mostly slab and framing inspections -- were approved. He would not comment directly.
The county's chief code compliance officer, Charles Danger, said he doesn't think any inspector should make more than 20 inspections in a day. The department's new goal is 18. Danger was amazed to learn that inspectors made more than 50.
"It's impossible for a person to do that amount of inspections and do a good job on it," Danger said. "It's humanly impossible."
Inspectors testified to the 1990 grand jury that their inspections had been "inadequate and falsified" in many instances. They blamed the large number of daily inspections required.
"While we are certain that there are many qualified and dedicated building inspectors doing an effective job, we are also certain that others are not," the grand jurors wrote.
Grand jury investigators caught inspectors spending part of their work day watching women bowl, reading a newspaper in a library, sleeping in a car or going home early.
"Prior to the grand jury, the message that I had from upper management was to be more efficient as possible. We really tried to work our tails off," said Chief Building Inspector Roberto Pineiro. "The emphasis was put on productivity. After the grand jury report, the emphasis was put on quality."
Pineiro said he found it hard to believe that the computer database was accurate in pinpointing so many instances of high inspection days. His theories: clerks entered the data wrong; the inspections listed on those days were canceled; the inspections on those days were all in the same neighborhood.
"Building and zoning supervisors appear out of touch with the actual operations of the inspection department," the 1990 grand jurors concluded.
Inspector Rodriguez said times have changed since the days when inspectors were asked to make more inspections in a day than they could realistically complete. The computer database showed 33 times since 1988 in which he logged more than 50 daily inspections. Once, Rodriguez said, he was given a daily route sheet calling for him to make 110 inspections.
"We were being demanded to do all of our inspections. We just ran right through them," he said.
Sometimes, other inspectors would help. And sometimes, Rodriguez said he carried over inspections to the following day -- a practice that was frowned on by the department. The days in which Rodriguez carried over his inspections were not included in the Herald computer study.
Joaquin Avino, who has been county manager since 1988, said it would be "unrealistic" to make 110 inspections in a day. "Needless to say, as county manager, you don't look at the number of inspections an inspector was doing," he said.
The 1990 surveillance caught some inspectors who never left their cars when doing inspections. To some investigators, that's worse than taking money.
"I really don't know if it's the giving of money that's totally corrupt. Maybe it's not getting your butt out of your car to see if something was built right that's really corrupt," Metro-Dade detective Anthony Kost said in a recent interview. Kost worked on the 1986 undercover probe of the building department.
In that case, contractors literally threw money into the car of a Metro detective who was posing as an inspector. Eventually, 24 contractors, developers, homeowners and one building inspector were charged -- most with giving $10 and $20 bribes.
Roofing contractor Ernesto Valladares pleaded no contest after he gave the undercover officer $100 to approve three roofing inspections that had been rejected. Thirty homes contracted by Valladares' firm were uninhabitable after Andrew, computer data show.
"There was an awful lot of bribery going on. It was a common way of doing business," said former state prosecutor David Troyer, who handled the case. "I think it would be unreasonable to assume it began and ended with that investigation."
But none of the 15 who pleaded guilty in the 1986 probe got a harsh sentence. Judges were not inclined to sentence a developer to jail for a $20 bribe.
Ten years before Troyer's investigation, a 1976 grand jury condemned county inspections.
"Instead of requiring thorough, proper inspections, the county gave into the pressure of the building industry," the 1976 grand jury wrote. "The county should have been prepared to adequately staff the department during peak periods of construction with trained personnel. It was not prepared."
Franklyn Tarbox, an inspector from 1966 until 1982, said he never had to meet a quota.
"In the '70s and '60s, you checked how many nails were in the boards. I don't know, I guess it might have changed," he said. "How long would it take? Sometimes a half hour, sometimes an hour."
The importance of a thorough inspection became apparent when dentist Jeffrey Glasser had his South Dade house built in 1976. The county stopped work on the house after a building inspector supervisor discovered code violations that another inspector had missed.
The construction was so bad that an engineer determined the house would be "insecure under hurricane wind loads."
Glasser got a new contractor. The county suspended for three days the inspector who missed the shoddy work. The house survived Andrew.
Dade experienced another building boom in the 1980s. Instead of learning from its mistakes, the county repeated them.
"We kept increasing the fees, but we never kept up with the inspection needs," said former Metro Commissioner Beverly Phillips, who was defeated in 1988. The fees from building permits finance code enforcement.
The county increased the number of daily inspections each inspector was supposed to make -- from 22 in 1985 to 27 in 1989 to 29 in 1990, rather than provide enough money to adequately staff the department, or attract young inspectors who want to make the job a career.
Because the job requires construction experience, many don't become inspectors until after they have retired from another job. Dave Bacon, for instance, didn't become an inspector until he was 65. He died in 1982 at 75 -- while still on the county payroll as an inspector. Julio Aldecocea became an inspector this year. He is 63.
General contractor Eduardo Roca, 36, joined the building department as an inspector in July 1991. He left after three months for a better job.
"In a lot of cases, they're taking the rap for no need," Roca said of the inspectors. "In my experience, what I saw, the work was being carried out in a very professional manner and they were doing everything to the best of their abilities."
While the county was tight with money for code enforcement, the code itself was undergoing a transformation. Builders, seeking cheaper and faster ways to construct homes, began using products not envisioned by the writers of the original 1957 code.
Many developers relied on letters from engineers that certified they were using building products -- like premanufactured roof trusses -- that met the code. The letters were rarely challenged by inspectors. Roof trusses failed repeatedly in the storm.
"There was a lot of stuff run under engineering letters. I have no idea how good they were," former inspector Kurtz said. "If an engineer certified that it was done according to code, we would accept it."
A major problem in the hurricane was the failure of roof tiles. Code compliance chief Danger said the problem could have been lessened had inspectors been given scales to test for wind uplift. Danger said inspectors told him they don't have the scales or know how to use them.
But chief inspector Pineiro, who said inspectors were given scales, said they weren't needed. "With a scale you could go fishing," he said. "It's not required. It's a gadget."
Retired inspector Tarbox said he became concerned when the county began allowing builders to use staples to attach shingles to roofs.
But inspectors are powerless to change the code. It was adopted and can be changed only by the Metro Commission. The job of interpreting the code is left to the Board of Rules and Appeals, whose members are appointed by the commission.
Inspector Rodriguez blamed the shoddy construction uncovered by Andrew on several factors. "I think there was a combination of a lot of things: poor design, poor workmanship, no supervision, and just maybe if we had spent more time on inspections," he said.
Copyright 1992 Miami Herald
What Went Wrong > Miami Herald, December 20, 1992 > Page 7
SPECIAL REPORT: WHAT WENT WRONG
DO BUILDERS' BUCKS BUY POLITICAL POWER?
LISA GETTER Herald Staff Writer
December 20, 1992
Page: 7SR
As developers transformed the landscape of Dade County in the decade before Hurricane Andrew, more and more of their money fueled Metro Commission campaigns.
In 1980, building interests contributed almost one of every four campaign dollars collected, a Miami Herald analysis of campaign contributions showed. In 1986, when construction was booming, the building industry gave at least one of every three campaign dollars.
"Contributions from builders helped make it easier, quicker and more profitable for them to build," said political strategist Philip Hamersmith.
"People don't give contributions for better government reasons. They give for greater access to the County Commission and ultimately, to get the action or position they want."
To study the local political clout of the building industry, The Herald created a computer database to analyze major campaign contributions to Metro Commission candidates. The
commission has the final say over zoning and revisions to the South Florida Building Code. It also appoints the Board of Rules and Appeals, the panel that oversees the code.
The database included contributions of $100 or more that were given to any commission candidate who collected at least $20,000 for the six elections between 1980 and 1990. The study was limited to contributions of $500 or more for the 1988 election. The final database included 17,268 contributions.
It showed that:
* Building money accounted for about 27 percent of the money collected by commission candidates during the study period.
* Builders contributed about $2.2 million in the six elections -- more money than was collected in any single election year by all major candidates combined.
* More than half of the money that came from builders throughout the study period was contributed during the 1986 and 1988 elections, years when there was increased growth in the county.
* Political dollars from builders peaked in 1986, when 38 percent of the money collected came from the construction industry.
* Contributions from builders dropped significantly in 1990 to the 20 percent level, where they had been in 1982.
Engineer Herbert Gopman said his tenure on the Board of Rules and Appeals illustrates the power campaign money can buy.
Records show that Mayor Steve Clark appointed Gopman to the board in 1984, but Gopman said he really was the appointee of the trade unions.
Former Commissioner Beverly Phillips said appointments to the board often were made the way Gopman described. "We used to call the building and zoning people or the unions or the building trades" for names of nominees, she said. In hindsight, she said, it was "maybe the fox going into the hen house."
Gopman said trade unions considered him accountable to them. The study showed trade unions contributed about $80,500 to commissioners.
"In a controversial matter, they will call you out and say, 'You've got to vote this way.' I didn't always meet their demands," Gopman said. "I wasn't reappointed."
The 1992 grand jury concluded last week that "parts of the construction industry continually exert undue influence" on the board's decisions.
Homeowners' representatives say they are powerless to raise the kind of money that comes from the building industry.
"It's very difficult. You can sit and have a party for a commissioner and maybe raise $1,000 or $2,000," said Neal Alper, an officer in the Kendall Federation of Homeowners Associations. "But a developer, who stands to make hundreds of thousands of dollars in profits, can just contribute $1,000 at a time."
Chuck Lennon, the executive director of the Builders Association of South Florida, said the 1,100-member organization's political action committee contributes money every year to commission candidates -- about $23,000 during the decade, the study showed. Before contributing money, the PAC interviews candidates and makes endorsements.
"The only thing it does is give you entry. It doesn't give you their vote, but it does give you an opportunity to get their ear," Lennon said.
Mayor Clark, who received more money from builders than any other candidate, said he thinks builders supported him because he had been a general contractor. "If builders contributed to my campaign, I thank them for that," he said. "I didn't give them special treatment."
Former Commissioner Phillips, who often voted against builders, said she never sought their money. But she said she would at least listen to people who contributed to her.
"They gave money to me just so they could have my ear on occasion," she said.
The Latin Builders Association also interviews candidates and makes endorsements. Although its political action committee contributed only $8,000 throughout the decade, individual members have contributed hundreds of thousands of dollars more.
Among past and present LBA members who contributed more than $10,000 during the decade, either individually or through their firms, were homebuilder Pedro Adrian, developers Erelio Pena, Jesus Portela and Felix Lima, engineering contractor Rolando Iglesias and plumbing company owner Sergio Pino.
"It gives you an open door with the commissioner. You're at least able to get an appointment with a commissioner and explain your case," said LBA executive director William Delgado.
Once the LBA board of directors decides who it will support, the organization sends a mailing to its approximately 1,000 members. The group also holds fund-raisers. It raised $45,000 for Sherman Winn at a 1986 fund-raiser and $77,000 for Clara Oesterle at a 1988 fund-raiser.
Under the guidance of zoning lawyer Tom Carlos, the LBA was successful in persuading the commission in 1985 to open 2,900 acres to development in West and Southwest Dade.
"There was a period there when the commission was definitely dominated by pro-development views. That can best be shown by votes on Master Plan applications," said Metro Commissioner Harvey Ruvin.
Ruvin voted against most of the changes in the county land- use plan. "As it turns out, a lot of that development, especially in the Southwest, did experience extreme hurricane damage," he said.
After the 1985 hearings, Carlos told the LBA leadership it needed to financially support the commissioners who voted for the changes.
"These events were very important," Carlos said in a 1988 interview about the fund-
raisers. "I wanted the commissioners to associate faces with contributions. Later, when we go to the commission on an application, I want the commissioners to think of the individual contributors when they see me. I want them to be accountable to the person who is an applicant and my client."
Reginald Walters, who retired this year after 28 years as Metro planning director, said special interests contribute money "to keep in good favor with the commissioners."
"As long as I had been with Dade County, growth had been very rampant and very strong and the building industry had always had a great influence over the commission," Walters said.
ANDREW'S WINDS EXPOSED FLAWS IN INSPECTION SYSTEM
Continued from Page 6SR,
INSPECTIONS: A BREAKDOWN IN THE SYSTEM
LISA GETTER Herald Staff Writer
inspections, saying he had jeopardized the public's safety. The surveillance showed that he spent 64 minutes of his day making 38 inspections, approving 30.
"That's in the past," Varona said in a recent interview. "That's over with me."
The computer showed that Varona had logged five days with more than 50 inspections, including the day in 1990 he reported making 82. Varona said he did not remember ever doing that many in a day. The most, he said, was "probably 50 or 55."
Everett said the high number of inspections he performed is misleading because he worked long days. The computer showed 40 times since 1988 when he was sent out on more than 50 inspections in a day.
"The grand jury had a report. They said you can't do that many. What I would say is go to the homeowner who reported seeing me at 8:30 p.m.," he said. "I have had many people come up to me after the hurricane and say, 'Mr. Everett, you may not remember me, but you inspected my house and it's still standing.' "
Tucker, the inspector who did 68 inspections in one day in 1988, said it's possible to do an excellent job if all the inspections are in the same neighborhood and many are rejected. The computer database indicates on that day he rejected 13 inspections and the remainder -- mostly slab and framing inspections -- were approved. He would not comment directly.
The county's chief code compliance officer, Charles Danger, said he doesn't think any inspector should make more than 20 inspections in a day. The department's new goal is 18. Danger was amazed to learn that inspectors made more than 50.
"It's impossible for a person to do that amount of inspections and do a good job on it," Danger said. "It's humanly impossible."
Inspectors testified to the 1990 grand jury that their inspections had been "inadequate and falsified" in many instances. They blamed the large number of daily inspections required.
"While we are certain that there are many qualified and dedicated building inspectors doing an effective job, we are also certain that others are not," the grand jurors wrote.
Grand jury investigators caught inspectors spending part of their work day watching women bowl, reading a newspaper in a library, sleeping in a car or going home early.
"Prior to the grand jury, the message that I had from upper management was to be more efficient as possible. We really tried to work our tails off," said Chief Building Inspector Roberto Pineiro. "The emphasis was put on productivity. After the grand jury report, the emphasis was put on quality."
Pineiro said he found it hard to believe that the computer database was accurate in pinpointing so many instances of high inspection days. His theories: clerks entered the data wrong; the inspections listed on those days were canceled; the inspections on those days were all in the same neighborhood.
"Building and zoning supervisors appear out of touch with the actual operations of the inspection department," the 1990 grand jurors concluded.
Inspector Rodriguez said times have changed since the days when inspectors were asked to make more inspections in a day than they could realistically complete. The computer database showed 33 times since 1988 in which he logged more than 50 daily inspections. Once, Rodriguez said, he was given a daily route sheet calling for him to make 110 inspections.
"We were being demanded to do all of our inspections. We just ran right through them," he said.
Sometimes, other inspectors would help. And sometimes, Rodriguez said he carried over inspections to the following day -- a practice that was frowned on by the department. The days in which Rodriguez carried over his inspections were not included in the Herald computer study.
Joaquin Avino, who has been county manager since 1988, said it would be "unrealistic" to make 110 inspections in a day. "Needless to say, as county manager, you don't look at the number of inspections an inspector was doing," he said.
The 1990 surveillance caught some inspectors who never left their cars when doing inspections. To some investigators, that's worse than taking money.
"I really don't know if it's the giving of money that's totally corrupt. Maybe it's not getting your butt out of your car to see if something was built right that's really corrupt," Metro-Dade detective Anthony Kost said in a recent interview. Kost worked on the 1986 undercover probe of the building department.
In that case, contractors literally threw money into the car of a Metro detective who was posing as an inspector. Eventually, 24 contractors, developers, homeowners and one building inspector were charged -- most with giving $10 and $20 bribes.
Roofing contractor Ernesto Valladares pleaded no contest after he gave the undercover officer $100 to approve three roofing inspections that had been rejected. Thirty homes contracted by Valladares' firm were uninhabitable after Andrew, computer data show.
"There was an awful lot of bribery going on. It was a common way of doing business," said former state prosecutor David Troyer, who handled the case. "I think it would be unreasonable to assume it began and ended with that investigation."
But none of the 15 who pleaded guilty in the 1986 probe got a harsh sentence. Judges were not inclined to sentence a developer to jail for a $20 bribe.
Ten years before Troyer's investigation, a 1976 grand jury condemned county inspections.
"Instead of requiring thorough, proper inspections, the county gave into the pressure of the building industry," the 1976 grand jury wrote. "The county should have been prepared to adequately staff the department during peak periods of construction with trained personnel. It was not prepared."
Franklyn Tarbox, an inspector from 1966 until 1982, said he never had to meet a quota.
"In the '70s and '60s, you checked how many nails were in the boards. I don't know, I guess it might have changed," he said. "How long would it take? Sometimes a half hour, sometimes an hour."
The importance of a thorough inspection became apparent when dentist Jeffrey Glasser had his South Dade house built in 1976. The county stopped work on the house after a building inspector supervisor discovered code violations that another inspector had missed.
The construction was so bad that an engineer determined the house would be "insecure under hurricane wind loads."
Glasser got a new contractor. The county suspended for three days the inspector who missed the shoddy work. The house survived Andrew.
Dade experienced another building boom in the 1980s. Instead of learning from its mistakes, the county repeated them.
"We kept increasing the fees, but we never kept up with the inspection needs," said former Metro Commissioner Beverly Phillips, who was defeated in 1988. The fees from building permits finance code enforcement.
The county increased the number of daily inspections each inspector was supposed to make -- from 22 in 1985 to 27 in 1989 to 29 in 1990, rather than provide enough money to adequately staff the department, or attract young inspectors who want to make the job a career.
Because the job requires construction experience, many don't become inspectors until after they have retired from another job. Dave Bacon, for instance, didn't become an inspector until he was 65. He died in 1982 at 75 -- while still on the county payroll as an inspector. Julio Aldecocea became an inspector this year. He is 63.
General contractor Eduardo Roca, 36, joined the building department as an inspector in July 1991. He left after three months for a better job.
"In a lot of cases, they're taking the rap for no need," Roca said of the inspectors. "In my experience, what I saw, the work was being carried out in a very professional manner and they were doing everything to the best of their abilities."
While the county was tight with money for code enforcement, the code itself was undergoing a transformation. Builders, seeking cheaper and faster ways to construct homes, began using products not envisioned by the writers of the original 1957 code.
Many developers relied on letters from engineers that certified they were using building products -- like premanufactured roof trusses -- that met the code. The letters were rarely challenged by inspectors. Roof trusses failed repeatedly in the storm.
"There was a lot of stuff run under engineering letters. I have no idea how good they were," former inspector Kurtz said. "If an engineer certified that it was done according to code, we would accept it."
A major problem in the hurricane was the failure of roof tiles. Code compliance chief Danger said the problem could have been lessened had inspectors been given scales to test for wind uplift. Danger said inspectors told him they don't have the scales or know how to use them.
But chief inspector Pineiro, who said inspectors were given scales, said they weren't needed. "With a scale you could go fishing," he said. "It's not required. It's a gadget."
Retired inspector Tarbox said he became concerned when the county began allowing builders to use staples to attach shingles to roofs.
But inspectors are powerless to change the code. It was adopted and can be changed only by the Metro Commission. The job of interpreting the code is left to the Board of Rules and Appeals, whose members are appointed by the commission.
Inspector Rodriguez blamed the shoddy construction uncovered by Andrew on several factors. "I think there was a combination of a lot of things: poor design, poor workmanship, no supervision, and just maybe if we had spent more time on inspections," he said.
Copyright 1992 Miami Herald