When the storm first started, it was only rain. It was ordinary rain that pit-pattered on my windows, and slip-slapped against the palm trees outside. But then the wind started.
I knew something was wrong when I heard my mom's voice, urging me out of bed. My family and I had spent the day boarding up windows and taking our patio furniture inside. There was a hurricane headed our way, the weather forecasters said. Hurricane Andrew. But nobody knew if it would actually hit. Now, with the wind howling and the rain pounding and the trees bending, there was no question. The hurricane was upon us.
My mom, dad, sister, and I gathered in the hallway. We had flashlights and sleeping bags and pillows. We were listening to my dad's radio.
