NEW YORK — On a desolate stretch of sand and concrete rubble in a beachfront community, a lone home is rising amid the ruins of nearly 130 houses that burned to ashes during Hurricane Sandy.
Nine months after the fire tore across Breezy Point, a neighborhood of tightly packed homes in New York City, this house is the only one under construction in the burn zone, a swath of homes that went up like tinderboxes in the storm.
Rows of rectangular boxes sunk into the sand form a graveyard of wrecked homes. American flags waving feebly from the ground help mark where a street once existed.
‘‘That fire zone is the one scar out of all of this that won’t go away,’’ said Kieran Burke, a firefighter whose home was destroyed in the blaze. ‘‘These aren’t just beach homes. These are people’s lives. This is a way of life.’’
A perfect storm of government inefficiency, cumbersome permit laws, and general confusion has hampered the recovery effort in Breezy Point, which became a symbol of the storm’s devastation after images of the charred area were broadcast to the rest of the world.
As Sandy hit the East Coast, its storm surge took out homes and cost billions in damage.
Sparked when rising water flooded one home’s electrical system, the fire swept unchecked across the area as it was inundated with surging seawater, keeping fire trucks out of Breezy to stop it. Nearly 130 homes were reduced to blackened rubble.
About 350 of the nearly 3,000 homes in Breezy Point were wrecked beyond repair from flood or fire during the storm. But while many of the flooded homes began repairs months ago, the people who once lived in the fire zone are stuck in no-man’s land.
Some homeowners have filed plans to rebuild, but few have been OK’d by the city or by the Breezy Point Cooperative, which runs the neighborhood.
Some people are battling with insurance companies. Others waited months for the Federal Emergency Management Agency to finalize its newly-updated flood maps, which put Breezy Point in a more stringent flood zone with higher elevation requirements. And still more are waiting for the government and the cooperative to approve a long list of permits and plans that stand in the way of starting construction.
Meanwhile, homeowners such as Burke are struggling to afford rental housing on top of the mortgage that they’re still paying on a pile of sand.
‘‘We’re paying a mortgage, we’re paying real estate tax, we’re paying insurance, we’re paying everything,’’ said Burke, who has been renting a house in suburban Yonkers with his wife and two young sons. ‘‘So basically we’re living a dual life. We have two homes, and we never prepared for that.’’
Burke’s grandparents owned his two-story home, and like many Breezy abodes, it was passed down through the generations. During the storm, he waded through flooded streets and helped rescue neighbors before narrowly escaping his own home as it caught fire.
‘‘I’m 41 years old and we’re dipping into retirement funds,’’ he said. ‘‘A lot of people are actually going broke over this.’’
‘I’m 41 years old and we’re dipping into retirement funds. A lot of people are actually going broke over this.’
Adding to the confusion is the fact that many Breezy homes were built on unmapped streets, which means that they have to apply for a special permit from the state to rebuild.
‘‘It’s good for morale to see a house going up,’’ said A.J. Smith, a spokesman for the cooperative. ‘‘But we really need the buildings department to act on some of these plans.’’