PAST PERFECT

In its heyday, the shore of Lake Pontchartrain in eastern New Orleans was a vibrant summer community. Now, struggling to recover from the ravages of Hurricane George, the area has been nominated as a historic landmark.

The handful of fishing camps off Hayne Boulevard that survived Hurricane Georges, along with pilings where dozens more fell to the crushing storm, have withstood the first hurdle on the way to becoming a historic landmark.

Camp owners and a popular historian carrying colorful tales and whimsical snapshots seemed to charm the Historic District Landmarks Commission into nominating the century-old site for the honor at its monthly meeting last week. No one showed up to oppose the designation, which would cover camp sites along Hayne and the Little Woods area to the east.

In their heyday, hundreds of camps stood as thick as steppingstones along the lake shore east of Downman Road. The rustic dwellings, with names like Walkway to Heaven, date to the early 1900s. Complete with restaurants and a music club or two, the area provided a getaway for blue-collar families and a hideout for the famous and infamous.

Photographs of children growing up at tables covered with shrimp and crabs were among those brought to the meeting.

"It says something about our culture when we're trying to preserve relaxation," said Jim Hart, vice president of the Hayne Boulevard Camps Preservation Association.

Only five of about 70 camps along Hayne survived the more than 30 hours of pounding surf produced by the hurricane in September 1998. Little Woods was luckier: The storm claimed five of about 25 camps east of Paris Road.

This nearly 10-mile stretch of Lake Pontchartrain shoreline, east of Lakefront Airport, marks the cultural spot where Cajuns "collided with the rest of the New Orleans area," Hart told the landmarks panel. "It's a culturally important part of New Orleans."

Helen Bourda said she was born and raised in a camp called the Rubie, "and we never had no electricity or running water till I was 18 years old."

Bourda, 76, said her family ran a bathhouse, restaurant and dancing pavilion visited by the likes of Huey Long and Louis Armstrong. And President Teddy Roosevelt stopped to chat when passing through town on a train, she said.

Bourda's remembrances will be among oral histories of camp life collected by the Historic District Landmarks Commission in the coming months, along with photographs and writings, said architectural historian Lori Durio. The information will be added to a historical report compiled for the commission by researcher Hilary S. Irvin.

The decision whether to declare the area a landmark will be based on the area's cultural and social importance rather than its architectural significance, she said.

Due to a long list of applicants for landmark status, the final decision could take a year, Durio said. But in the interim, Tuesday's vote to study the proposal protects the camps, pilings and piers "just as though they were a landmark," she said.

Over the years, camp owners have battled government agencies, environmentalists and developers over the fate of the historic waterfront community, which "makes it seem to need protection more," she said.

A camp owned by former New Orleans Mayor Robert Maestri is among the five camps still standing along Hayne, Hart said. And although Federal Emergency Management Agency officials want to pluck rows of surviving pilings from the lake as part of their hurricane cleanup, they should remain, he said.

"They're important to us because we intend to rebuild," said Hart, whose circa 1929 camp was destroyed by Georges. The pilings mark just where the lost camps were, he said.

Landmark status will encourage camp owners to comply with costly new building codes and the red tape that goes with them, Hart said.

To get a city permit to rebuild, owners have to take such steps as submitting professional plans, building at a 16-foot elevation, and tying in to the city sewage line running on the far side of a railroad-topped levee and a four-lane roadway. And that means getting written permission from the Norfolk Southern Railroad, the Army Corps of Engineers, the state Department of Lands and the New Orleans Levee District.

Hayne camp association President John Bowes recently estimated the cost of the sewerage connection alone would be about $5,000 per camp. He said he would test the bureaucratic waters and lead the way for fellow camp owners.

"It all comes down to: Do you want to be there or don't you?" Bowes said. "And I want to be there."

The camp culture is an example of why journalist Charles Kuralt called New Orleans the most unique city in America, local historian Buddy Stahl told the panel.

"Let us maintain that which has made us great," Stahl said, his hands waving from the arms of his red jacket. If not, the city will wind up another Houston or Dallas, he said. "And I don't want to go there. I want them to come here."

Panel member Camille Strachan led the motion to approve the nomination with the condition that the history of camps be recorded.

"We are documenting our histories right now," Hart said, then invited the panel to a traditional camp crab boil.