The June 1978 issue of The Claimsman, theSouth Florida Claims Association's newsletter, featuredheadlines such as “Catastrophe Record Set for 1978 First Quarter,”“Storm Inexperience Will Cause the Death Toll to Rise,” “The RealFlood School,” and “The Life of a Storm-Trooper.” The spreadincluded photos of prior murderous storms named Camille, Beulah,Donna, Audrey and Hazel. There was an interview with Dr. Neal Frankof the Miami Hurricane Center and quotes from John D. MacDonald'snovel Condominium. The issue also addressed the exclusionsin “windstorm and hail” coverage in homeowners' forms and discussed the National Flood Insurance Act.

It showed an NFIP flood-level map of Miami in answer to the question, “IfMiami gets a storm this season, what might we expect in terms offlooding?” The answer: “Expect to get your feet wet!” Theaccompanying map showed water-depth levels of up to 15 feet alongthe islands and three to four feet in the Miami River valley. Southof Kendall Drive showed levels of three to 10 feet of flooding.

I wrote an article in that issue called “A Cry of 'Wolf'?”There, I suggested that too many citizens were complacent. Becausea hurricane had not hit Miami in decades, these citizens thought itwould not happen­—at least in their lifetimes.

No hurricane struck in 1978. In fact, no hurricane struck untilAugust 24, 1992—but when it did, it was nothing like the editor ofThe Claimsman could have dreamt possible. Andrew was just“a puny tropical blow that looked like it might fall apart,” wroteJohn Dorschner of the Miami Herald in “The Hurricane ThatChanged Everything,” one of the key articles in theHerald's 160-page book on the storm called The BigOne.

As with most Caribbean/Atlantic/Gulf of Mexico hurricanes,Andrew began life as a tropical depression off the west coastof Africa and slowly drifted west/northwest. At one point, itnearly collided with an earlier depression that was headed towardEurope. On Sunday morning, August 23, it was 800 miles east ofMiami with winds of only 75 miles per hour, barely hurricane force.The hurricane-hunter plane took a look, but the thought of Andrewhitting Miami was, said Dorschner, “only a vague abstraction.” Yet,from the air, the storm looked “awesome and beautiful.”

A few concerned Miamians visited the supermarkets to stock up,just in case. Many were debating whether to stay and ride outwhatever Andrew was, while others decided to head north and inland.Forty-eight schools and other buildings became emergency shelters,many to the north of the city. By midnight Sunday, only about 15National Hurricane Center staffers were on duty.

But by 12:13 a.m. Monday, NHC Director Bob Sheets advised,“Looks more and more like it's coming right across South Dade.” By3 a.m. the winds were up to 140 miles per hour, 40 miles east ofMiami. But by 4:28 a.m. Monday, Sheets said, “the eye-wall wasentering southern Biscayne Bay. At 4:30 a.m. dispatchers orderedall police and fire personnel off the streets.”

Broken Wind Gauge

The storm hit south of the City of Miami, and the worst damagewas south of Coral Gables and South Miami. Kendall Drive, a majorhighway, was a border between total devastation and mild damage.Apartment buildings on Kendall that faced south had the fronts tornoff, while the rear portions had no damage. Virtually everydwelling south of Kendall was damaged or destroyed, all the way toHomestead Air Force Base, where F-16s were damaged. Trees wereleveled, roofs torn off and blasted to bits, blown hither and yon.Fortunately, Homestead Nuclear Power Plant sustained only minordamage.

The National Hurricane Center is in a sturdy six-story buildingin the center of the University of Miami campus, but when the windhit, the staffers could feel the building sway. One of the staffsaid he felt seasick. As Dorschner explains: “A dazed reporterasked Sheets, 'What direction is the building swaying?' Theordinarily unflappable Sheets came as close as he ever did tolosing his cool. 'I don't know,' he snapped. 'You tell me.' Momentslater there was a large boom. Everyone froze. What was it? Theradar suddenly went out. Apparently the radar on the roof hadtipped over. At 5:20 a.m. the wind gauge recorded a speed of 164miles an hour. Then the gauge broke. From that moment on, whateverhappened in Dade County was beyond measure.” Winds were estimatedto have been around 200 knots (230 miles per hour).

Many homes built of concrete blocks withstood the wind butshifted on their foundations. They provided little shelter forresidents inside, as doors, windows and roofs were blown away.Survivors hid in bathtubs and held on to plumbing to withstand thesucking winds that tore away their shelter. It's said that homesbuilt by Habitat for Humanity volunteers withstood the wind betterthan those built by construction companies because the volunteersused twice as many nails in each rafter than carpenters using nailguns.

Commercial buildings fared no better; store windows were blownout, debris blasted through the structures and many collapsed.Frame structures and mobile homes were ripped to shreds. Petswandered about, as disoriented as their owners. Trees wereflattened as if pushed over in a straight line by a bulldozer.

I had resided in Coral Gables until 1978, and months afterAndrew, I returned to survey the scene. Virtually nothing had beendone to clean up the mess. There were no longer street signsstanding. The wind had sandblasted paint from houses, and owners ortheir insurers had spray-painted messages on the walls, includingmessages of where the owners might be located or whether theinsurance company had already inspected. Dorschner described thearea as looking like Beirut after the terrorist bombing.

Shelter and Rescue

Before the storm hit only about 20,000 people had moved toshelters, far less than the 75,000 expected. Afterwards, virtuallyall of those south of Kendall Drive required shelter. Thousandsfled northward on the Florida Turnpike. Those South Dade residentswho still had an automobile—most had been damaged or destroyed inthe storm—packed what they could find and left. President GeorgeH.W. Bush flew in to inspect but stayed only briefly. GovernorLawton Chiles received a briefing at the Metro Emergency Managementbunker, which could only offer his staff cookies and pickles forbreakfast. The National Guard was activated to patrol and protectthe area.

Merchandise was in short supply; few people had transportationto get north to buy anything, and few roads were unclogged enoughfor use. Profiteers arrived, selling generators for $1,500 thatthey purchased for $1,200.

The surprising aspect of Andrew was the lack of flooding beyondthe storm surge at the very edge of the coast. Homes with docksfound their vessels on land, washed ashore and damaged. Dinner KeyMarina and the Matheson Hammock Marina suffered severe damage toyachts and cruisers. At the Tamiami Airport, jets and propelleraircraft were piled on top of each other—90% of them weredestroyed, along with the tower. Had the storm hit further north,marine and aircraft damage would have been far greater.

The Lasting Impact of the Storm

Power and phone lines were down throughout South Dade County,and friends and relatives were in a panic trying to reach those whohad lived in the destroyed homes. It took days to sort out who wasalive and where they had gone. When I visited, one sign read,“Grandma is alive…call Lee.” Yet only around twenty peoplewere killed directly by the storm, compared with 6,000 in theGalveston, Texas storm in 1900.

The storm demolished 25,000 homes and severely damaged another50,000; 175,000 people were homeless.

The cost was in excess of $20 billion, and the response by theinsurance industry and independent adjusting firms was immediate,with adjusters arriving from all over the country to help settleclaims.

Was Andrew the worst hurricane ever? It was, at that time, themost expensive; but compared with deadly storms like Camille,Katrina and Galveston, Miami was lucky. In 1992, Miami was still inthe process of absorbing thousands of Cuban refugees following theMariel Boat Lift, and many lived in the center of the city. Had thestorm come ashore even 10 miles further north, thousands could havedied.

The insurance industry learns from every catastrophe—and it learned much from Andrew. One lessonlearned was the importance of a good building code. While the SouthFlorida Building Code was fairly stringent, beefing it up to helpkeep roofs on houses in future storms was a consideration. Simplemetal straps or nail guns may be efficient, but in a hurricane ortornado they may be insufficient to protect a home's interior.

Consider what Hugo did to Charleston, or Ivan to Pensacola. Miami got the bigstorm, but the future could hold even bigger storms. No coastalcity can relax its vigilance when Ma Nature decides to pay avisit.