Shelter from the Storm

My brother has always been the "responsible one" in our family of four children. So when I heard in August 1992 that a major hurricane was headed toward his home in the Keys, I wasn't worried. I knew he and his family would find a place to ride out the storm, somewhere far from the perilous Keys. Somewhere safe.

In fact, my brother did take his wife and two teenage children to the safest place he knew. Unfortunately, that place was a military facility just north of Homestead, directly in the path of Hurricane Andrew. They spent the night of August 24 huddled in a nuclear blast shelter with other military families, listening to the storm rage above them. At one point, the shelter's triple-steel security doors bowed under the pressure of the hurricane's 150-mile-an-hour winds. The next morning they emerged from the shelter to devastation. The rest of the base had been blown away. A 150-foot high radar dome was completely gone. Trees and fences had disappeared. Light poles were bent to the ground. Vehicles, including the two my brother's family had brought with them from the Keys, lay smashed in heaps, their windows shattered. While the storm itself was terrifying, the weeks afterward were in many ways worse. Hurricane evacuation planning generally concentrates on getting people away from the storm surge, an intense build-up of water that can cause severe flooding in coastal areas. But Andrew's damage was caused primarily by the force of its winds. As a result, much of the area Andrew swept through in south Dade County was not evacuated. Relief efforts were slow to mobilize. Tens of thousands of people were without water and food in the intense August heat. Many had seen their houses blown away above them. When my brother's family was able to return to their home in Key Largo, they found it untouched. I told them later that I wanted to know where they planned to ride out the next hurricane, so I could arrange to be somewhere else.

A Learning Experience

Hurricane Andrew was a painful learning experience for Florida's coastal communities, and the state in general. All told, the storm destroyed more than 100,000 homes and left an estimated 180,000 people homeless, creating a record $30 billion in damages. If the hurricane had come ashore just 30 miles farther north, in Miami proper, the devastation it would have caused is terrifying to contemplate. One long-term effect of Hurricane Andrew was that state and local governments took a close look at their "hazard mitigation" programs, and began working to improve them. These planning efforts describe how communities and the state will protect people and control damage caused by hurricanes and other natural and man-made disasters like tornadoes, floods and hazardous-material spills. In coastal communities, hazard mitigation includes pre-disaster plans for evacuation and shelters and post-disaster relief efforts, as well as plans that describe how (or if) rebuilding will occur in vulnerable coastal areas. In some areas, hurricane destruction can open up opportunities to develop differently. Homestead's new Jordan Commons is one example. This innovative coastal community is rising out of one of the areas most heavily damaged by Hurricane Andrew. The community is a project of Habitat for Humanity, a nonprofit organization that helps low income people buy homes. But Jordan Commons goes beyond affordability. Built in a "traditional neighborhood" design, the project emphasizes community living, with walkable tree-lined streets, parks and public spaces, and sites for small businesses. The homes are designed to be energy efficient, with natural shade, light colored roofs, energy-efficient appliances, and orientations that help cut cooling costs. Jordan Commons is one example of a local government choosing to use this opportunity to try a new solution to an old challenge. To consider Andrew an isolated incident would have been a mistake. In fact, Andrew was a wake-up call. Experts warn that the recent lull in hurricane activity is ending as climate cycles change. Coastal communities, and the people living there, must be prepared for the next "Big One."

Emergency Response: The State's Role
Responding quickly and effecively to disaster situations is the mission of the State Division of Emergency Management (DEM) located within the Department of Community Affairs. During an emergency, the division's Emergency Operations Center serves as a central clearinghouse for disaster-related information, answers resource requests, and sends out recovery teams. After an Emergency, the division sends a State Emergency Response Team to the site to look at the situation and determine what resources are needed. In a major emergency, Rapid Impact Assessment Teams are sent to the area to help people with immediate needs for food, water, housing, and medical attention, and to evaluate damage to roads, structures and utility systems. DEM also administers a grant program that gives money to communities, regional and state agencies for emergency planning and response efforts.