ALONG FLORIDA’S INTERSTATE 4 CORRIDOR — Beyond the theme-park billboards that promise worlds of fantasy and adventure, there is reality along this road that ripples across the state, small measures of struggle and survival in a sputtering economy.
For Eve and Michael Dobbins, that reality is a cash register. If there’s $9 in it after toiling 10-hour days in their cupcake shop in Tampa, that’s a disaster. If there’s $200? Reason to celebrate.
For Travis Joyner, it’s a gas pump. A few pennies up or down matter to the Orlando theme-park worker trying to chip away at $60,000-plus in student loans while earning about $10 an hour.
And for Larry Szrom, it’s a job. He makes a fraction of what he used to earn, but the former chemical engineer, mortgage broker and real-estate developer is thrilled to be working as a teacher.
All four are finding their way in a once-booming Florida economy that was battered by the recession and is recovering at a frustratingly slow pace.
Once a symbol of explosive Sun Belt development, where construction cranes seemed as common as palm trees, this haven for retirees, tourists and Northern transplants is trying to recapture its glow. But first, the state has to bounce back from a housing bust and a plunge in population growth.
Florida’s economy is center stage in President Barack Obama and Mitt Romney’s high-stakes campaign for its rich trove of 29 electoral votes.
One of the biggest prizes still up for grabs, this state, a hard-fought White House battleground in 2000, could be just as pivotal this year. And no turf might be more important than the Interstate 4 corridor, the heart of swing- voter country, home to foreclosures and fresh starts, pain and prosperity, hope, anxiety and a frustration with politics.
If the glittery, crowded empire of Mickey Mouse offers a sunny view of Florida’s recovery, a half-hour away on I-4, a cavernous warehouse provides a stark contrast.
Walking past rows of floor-to-ceiling mayonnaise jars, ketchup bottles, soup cans, baby carriages, blankets and tons of other supplies, Dave Krepcho, chief executive of the Second Harvest Food Bank of Central Florida, doesn’t mince words:
“We have a disaster going on, but it’s an economic disaster,” he says. “Month in and month out, I can’t believe the numbers.”
Consider the food bank’s tally sheet: In the past four years, food distribution to 500 pantries, shelters and other relief agencies in the six-county area has jumped about 60 percent. In the past year alone, that amounted to 36 million pounds of food.
In a four-year period concluding at the end of 2009, the number of people served by the food bank skyrocketed from nearly 300,000 to 732,000 — and Krepcho says he hasn’t seen any decline in need since then.
He estimates about 30 percent of those seeking help are first-timers. They’re blue-collar and white-collar, many middle-class, even some upper- middle-class. They include college-educated couples and professionals.
“I don’t see any bright spots, and I’m looking for them,” Krepcho says, noting that at a recent meeting of his board, he asked: ” ‘Do any of you see any?’ There were just blank stares.”
Krepcho says people are angry and tired of political gridlock.
“A lot of people who voted for Obama may be disappointed because things haven’t turned around, but then they realize to a larger extent he has his hands tied behind his back with Congress. … (They) feel just absolutely powerless that they can do anything about this whole situation in Washington. They feel it’s way beyond them.”
