How soon we forget what these storms do

June 9, 1994

The governor's special hurricane committee has warned that Florida is flirting with "great loss of life and property in coming years" unless strict construction laws are passed.

The committee's chairman made "an urgent plea that this report not be put on a shelf and forgotten."

The governor was LeRoy Collins. The year was 1960. The hurricane was Donna. Everyone wanted to make sure such needless destruction wouldn't happen again.

But time passed, and people did forget. Just like today.

A hearing examiner says the only Metro building inspector fired in the aftermath of Hurricane Andrew should get his job back—a poetic beginning to the new hurricane season.

It was a foregone conclusion that nobody of consequence would be punished for the crimes exposed by Andrew. The builders who slapped together the lousy houses, the developers who sold them and the inspectors who rubber-stamped them had little to worry about from Dade prosecutors, or anyone else.

What modest progress is being made to prevent another disaster comes against powerful opposition. Even now, special interests are trying to weaken hurricane reforms before they take effect.

From a pessimistic Herb Saffir, engineer and nationally recognized expert on hurricane damage: "The only thing I can say is, I hope we don't get an Andrew-type storm coming through the populated areas of Miami."

After Andrew, public outrage and press scrutiny forced the Metro Commission to review building practices and enforcement. The Board of Rules and Appeals, a lap dog of the building trades, was supplanted by a more independent Building Code Committee.

To the surprise of no one (especially those living at Country Walk or Naranja Lakes), the panel found that much of Andrew's devastation was the result of poor housing designs and flawed construction. Yet virtually every worthwhile reform faced opposition. The industry's recurring argument was that home buyers won't pay a little extra for better shutters, stronger windows and nailed-down roofs. Total nonsense.

Eventually, new standards were approved. Shutters, garage doors and windows would be required to withstand higher winds, high-speed impacts and cyclic "loading"—the push and pull of hurricane gusts.

The Metro Commission's reaction? Delay, delay, delay.

The latest date for the new safety standards to take effect is Sept. 1, a week after Andrew's second anniversary. But some members of the code committee fear the commission will bow to pressure and stall the deadline once again.

If that happens, says engineer Jose Mitrani, "then it's a joke, a fraud being perpetrated on the people of Dade County."

Some builders have taken the initiative, producing solid, medium-priced homes designed to weather most hurricanes. Others prefer to keep cutting corners, pushing Metro commissioners to help the industry regain control of regulation. Hefty campaign donations help.

Each summer that passes without a new hurricane dims the public's memory, and emboldens commissioners to roll back reforms. Many experts fear that if a Category Four storm slams us this year, the damage will be worse than it was in August 1992.

Mitrani advises home buyers to hire their own experts to make sure the construction is sound. The alternative is to entrust your family's safety to politicians concerned mostly with pleasing big campaign contributors.

It would be inexcusable if the dire post-Andrew warnings are "put on a shelf and forgotten." Apparently the only event that will stop that from happening is another terrible storm.

Just the fittest will survive next hurricane

August 25, 1994

Charles Darwin believed that species evolve by survival of the fittest. His theory, slightly updated, will be put to the test when the next hurricane hits.

The smartest will do fine. The not-so-smart will be scrounging for roofers.

Everybody knows what happened two years ago this week, when Andrew ripped South Dade: Many thousands of homes went to pieces.

Lousy construction, inferior materials, poor engineering and a weakened building code all contributed to the devastation.

Aerial photographs told the story: one subdivision in ruins; across the street, another development barely damaged. Facing Andrew's fiercest gusts, some houses held strong; in the storm's weakest wind bands, other houses mysteriously disintegrated.

It wasn't fate. It was the difference between good and bad construction.

On Sept. 1, tougher building regulations take effect in South Florida. Windows and shutters on new homes must be stronger. Roofs will require more straps and heavier trusses. Plywood sheathing will be thicker.

To no one's surprise, some builders are rushing to get permits before the new rules take effect. They say there's a shortage of the new approved materials, and they can't afford delays. Others complain that the hurricane reforms will force them to raise prices on homes, and they'll lose customers.

This, from a developer in Pembroke Pines: "For something that happens once in 35 years, you are charging the public a lot of money."

Now that's the kind of responsible builder I want—someone so ignorant of Florida history that he thinks hurricanes come ashore every three and a half decades. Forget the many destructive storms of the '20s, '30s and '40s. Forget the pair that hit in 1950, and Donna 10 years later.

Go on and cut corners. Why fret about the lives and safety of your loved one, and the security of all your earthly possessions, when you can save a few hundred bucks by using 1/2-inch plywood?

This is where Darwin's theory kicks in. Government can do only so much to save people from their own stupidity. Then Mother Nature takes over.

As hurricane survivors can attest, the price of a house isn't nearly as critical as its structural integrity. For smart home buyers, the priority is finding a place that won't crash down on their heads.

After Andrew and the scandals it exposed, anyone who buys a crackerbox house or condo or trailer surely must know they're in temporary housing.

Believe it or not, Florida has many conscientious builders who make solid homes that stand up well to hurricanes. Finding one takes time, and possibly an independent engineer to help you decide.

If it costs a little more than the houses across the street, so what? The houses across the street will probably be rubble in a Category Four storm.

For those who endured Andrew in shabbily built houses, there's no excuse for making the same mistake twice. For those new to Florida, there's no excuse for not knowing what happened to thousands of unsuspecting homeowners in 1992, and why.

Which leads back to the building reforms that take effect Sept. 1.

Smart people—the fittest, in the Darwinian lexicon—would demand housing made to the stronger specifications. They wouldn't hire a builder who's racing a deadline so he can save on materials.

But not everyone is smart. In each herd are the strong and the weak, the survivors and the doomed. Darwin understood Nature's dramatic style of choosing.

One way is a hurricane.