When Joanne Dressel, 52, first moved to St. Pete Beach, Fla., in 1985, the house she and her husband bought was less than ideal. It was $30,000 beyond their budget, rundown, and a dead dog was lying at the bottom of the murky backyard pool.

It was listed as a handyman's special.

But after 13 years and $40,000 worth of work, it had become the quaint beach home they had always wanted, right off Boca Ciega Bay.

Then in 2002, right when she and her husband were going to sit back and relax, a monster storm rolled in from the Gulf of Mexico and ripped off their roof. Water poured into the house, soaking the walls, floors and contents.

The tornado left the Dressels in homeowner's limbo, buried alive under insurance claims, county permits and FEMA hurricane regulations. It would take two years and more than $300,000 before they could live in their quaint beachfront cottage.

"Before the tornado hit, I would say I was completely done with my house. Then the storm hit and I had to start all over," Dressel said clapping her hands together for emphasis. "It was a nightmare."

Dressel, her husband and their six cats couldn't stay in the house after the storm. Mold quickly covered their belongings.

"I saw some pretty funky stuff," she said. "It was like a toxic waste dump."

For the next few weeks she moved about from hotel, to RV, and finally to a rental property that ended up being home for almost two years.

The day after the storm, Dressel's damaged house attracted a convoy of spectators and home improvement solicitors.

"I think I must have collected about 3 inches worth of cards that day," she said.

She assumed getting back to normal would be as simple as a little drywall here, mopping there and putting up a new roof. She started by negotiating with her insurance company, Allstate, over who should front the $10,000 bill for the new roof.

"When I finally got the new roof after negotiating with my insurance company, I thought I was home free," she said.

But the city's building inspector brought another surprise. He told her the house would have to be gutted, because the walls and wiring were grossly damaged by the rain.

And that's when FEMA joined the fray. FEMA rules state that old houses in flood prone areas must be brought up to current standards if the value of a remodel exceeds 50 percent of the building's value. To meet FEMA requirements, Dressel's home would have to be raised 10 feet off the ground - an expensive operation.

"The problem that many people have on St. Pete Beach is that most of the value is associated with the dirt and not the structure itself," said Jerry Speece, senior planner for St. Pete Beach.

Dressel's homeowner's insurance would only pay $125,000, the cost of gutting and restoring the inside of the house. Contractors estimated it would cost more than $300,000 to raise and restore the house.

So I'm thinking we were only $200,000 short," she said in a sarcastic voice.

She could have just demolished her house. That's what a neighbor, Raymond Gailardos, did four doors down. Her only other options were to find the cash to continue building or to leave the beach.

"To demolish the house was about an extra $150, which for me was barely an option," she said.

With the house so damaged, there was little equity to borrow against. The Dressels tried putting the 1,500-square-foot home on the market for $160,000, half the value it was worth before the storm. The only reason it was worth anything at all was because of the pool and the dock in the back yard. The structure was a ruin.

"My thing was to just sell it because I couldn't keep up," she said.

That's when an answer literally came knocking at her door. A contractor decided he would work with her financial situation and offered a quote of about $250,000 to take on the project. It was huge strain, but the only playable card in her financial hand.

So like any person desperate for cash she borrowed like mad, put her car up for sale and got creative about finding money. The installments were $50,000 each. With every payment she was going further and further out on the limb, including cashing out her husband's retirement, borrowing against credit cards and spending a family inheritance.

Because she was using the original frame of the house, she was limited to what she could actually do.

"We wanted the quickest thing that we could do that was somewhat aesthetically pleasing," she said.

A year and half later the Dressels were finally back in their house. Before the storm the house and the land were valued at about $350,000. Even though she still only has two bedrooms and two bathrooms, today appraisers estimate is worth about $1.6 million.

"I love the house, but it was a nightmare building it," she said.

Interested in more? Click here to see the related design project, "The street that FEMA built."

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