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Friends, memories and the enormity of Mother Nature…

On August 23, 1992, it was a calm, windless, average summer day in Miami.  Yet, the undercurrent was boiling.  South Florida natives were tense – eyes glued to Bryan Norcross, the television meteorologist and hurricane specialist.  We were bracing for what would become the 4th most powerful storm to hit landfall in the U.S.

We took shelter at our friends’ (Bob & Hallie’s) home.  Rather than jogging north as predicted, the hurricane moved South and we were directly in its path.  That night, the winds and rains pounded away for hours.  We moved into an interior room, the bathroom, to seek maximum protection.  Six-week old Rachel was tucked safely away.  Our baby girl slept soundly through the howling winds and rain.  She slept through the crashing of a huge Oak tree which rattled the home and all the windows.  Colicky Rachel slept better that terrifying night than she had on any night in the prior month.  And then our dear sweet girl, proceeded to wail away for most of the 5 sweltering days which followed when we had no water or electricity. (I remember this clearly honey, yes I do.  No revisionist history here.  No Mme.)

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