Local Wisdom
June 1, the first day of hurricane season, and already a tropical storm was blowing through Central Florida. What would the rest of the season bring? It was a thought that normally would have brought on dread. Like many others who lived through the three strong storms that came through Central Florida in 2004, summer had come to mean keeping an anxious eye on the tropical forecast.
But on this day, almost three years after Central Florida briefly became Hurricane Alley, I found myself oddly at peace. Time had brought perspective.
In 40-plus years of living in different parts of this state, fewer than five Florida storms have left enough of an impression for me to even remember their names. When I think about hurricanes that I remember as horrible, three out of five—Camille, Dora, Andrew, Hugo, Katrina—hit other states as well. (Dora was only big to me because I was four years old at the time and lived in Jacksonville, ground zero for that storm).
The fact is that major storms have been relatively rare in the central and northern regions of the state. Look at a National Hurricane Center map showing the estimated number of years between major hurricanes in or near various coastal communities and you’ll find that Miami is the only city in Florida that has a higher rate of major storms (every nine years) than Cape Hatteras (every 11 years).
You might also be surprised to learn that the Carolinas have seen more monster storms than any place in Florida north of Sarasota. Indeed, if you look at the time between major storms from Tampa north to Jacksonville, the numbers range between every 22 years in Cocoa Beach to every 33 years in Apalachicola.
And it’s not like there aren’t other natural disasters happening elsewhere. There are killer blizzards in the upper Midwest, tornados in the Great Plains and earthquakes, mudslides and wildfires in California. Heck, earthquakes have even been known to hit Charleston.
So, in the grand scheme of things, hurricanes in Florida are probably no more deadly or no more common than any of those other acts of God. In fact, since they’re fairly predictable, it could be argued that hurricanes may be less deadly than natural disasters that strike more suddenly.
And, if you live in a home built in recent years, after stricter building codes were enacted in the wake of Hurricane Andrew, your chances of emerging unscathed are ever greater.
Hurricane Andrew, which struck South Florida in 1992, taught builders a lot of valuable lessons. Now new homes are “tied down” in a continuous fashion from the roof to the slab. Homes are designed to lessen the problem of gable ends hinging and collapsing. Better fastening techniques were devised for shingles and roof sheathing. Garage doors, a common weak spot in hurricanes, now have to be sturdy enough to withstand extremely strong winds.
The soggy 2004 storms led to even more improvements by uncovering weaknesses in waterproofing homes from rain blown sideways into walls and under eaves.
All of those lessons learned have changed the way new homes are built. Think of that and rest easier this summer when, outside, the clouds are blowing sideways and, inside, the orange and red swirls show up on the Weather Channel.
Teresa Burney is a contributing editor of Big Builder magazine and a columnist for Orlando Homebuyer.