Jerry-Built

Housing Expediter Wilson Watkins Wyatt heard the rafters creaking; the roof might cave in on him any day now. The man from Kentucky had tried and was still trying to be optimistic about his sagging emergency housing program. He still insisted that the U.S. could build 1,200,000 new veterans' homes in 1946. But the program's sorry shape was plain to see:

P: In six months, only 225,000 units were completed--and half of them had been started in 1945.

P:Many new houses, built for veterans, were falling apart. They had been put up with green lumber, ersatz plumbing and slapped together by careless carpentry. Worst gripes came from Mineola, L.I., where walls cracked, cellars flooded, rafters warped. The cellar of one $9,950 Mineola house was flooded daily by plumbing waste.

P:Builders were plagued more than ever with shortages (lumber, nails, foundry products), black markets, price uncertainties, general confusion.

Count Him Out? Even the hopeful Mr. Wyatt was distressed. Last week he did what he could to get the jerry out of the building program. With new powers wangled from the Civilian Production Administration, he took over control of all priorities on building materials declared surplus by the Government. The Veterans Administration and the Federal Public Housing Authority would get first preference on these materials, with private builders of veterans' housing next.

Wyatt then added 50 more items to the 30-odd already on the housing priorities list. Sample additions: stoves, refrigerators, linoleum, sheet steel, putty. He persuaded the Department of Commerce to extend its control over exports of building materials. He let it be known that new limitations might be placed on nonresidential construction.

How much good would all these moves do? Very little, most builders thought. They scoffed at priorities as "no better than hunting licenses." They pointed out that even though lumber production had increased slightly, a big percentage of it was being bootlegged or held for higher ceiling prices. Nails were bringing as much as 900% of OPA ceiling prices in the black market.

If Expediter Wyatt had done little that seemed likely to relieve their supply worries, said the builders, he had done nothing at all to relieve their worries over rising costs. To protect themselves against contract squeezes (as well as to make more profit), builders almost unanimously clamored for a lifting of the $10,000 lid on veterans' housing. (Some had even gone on what amounted to a sit-down strike for a free market; new-building "starts" began to fall off in June.)

Many a builder also clamored for a new federal housing boss. Snorted one last week: "The problem has licked Mr. Wyatt's meager abilities, but no one seems willing to count him out."

This file is automatically generated by a robot program, so reader's discretion is required.