Legacy of a 1926 Disaster

How Miami’s 1926 Great Hurricane Changed Florida . . . .

In 1926, a vicious monster of a storm – a Category 4 – walloped the small-but-growing city of Miami. For years afterward, those who survived called it the “Great Hurricane.”
 
       My dad was one of them . . . and never forgot the shattering experience. And little wonder. Winds of 130 miles an hour. The fractured city left for days without water, electricity, and gas. And widespread, almost unbelievable damage: homes swept entirely off their foundation, concrete block walls tumbled, entire buildings demolished.       

       The early 1920s had been a period of astronomical growth for Miami, as the city’s population mushroomed from just under 30,000 in 1920 to what one resident estimated as 160,000 by 1926. Homes had been thrown up quickly (and cheaply) to meet the heated demand during this early land boom. Many of the houses hardest-hit by the hurricane were those that had been built most recently.
 
       By contrast, many older homes and cottages came through the Big Blow relatively unscathed. The Barnacle House, for example, built in 1891 by early settler Ralph Munroe, sustained only minimal damage, though its separate boat house was destroyed.

       The state’s timber industry made much of this anomaly, touting its “hurricane proof” Florida pine in ads and marketing materials. “Dade County pine,” as some called it, is a slow-growing heartwood whose density and high resin content made it naturally resistant to mold, humidity, and termites. Cost-effective and locally-sourced, pine had been a choice of builders for decades before the 1926 storm, and many older homes in Coconut Grove and other sections of Miami still boast beautiful Florida pine floors, doors, and trim.
 
       In truth, however, the resilience of earlier homes may have had more to do with their stout construction, rather than the use of pine itself. Despite the timber industry’s vigorous self-promotion, pine as a construction material would eventually give way to reinforced concrete block as the preferred building material.

      Not surprisingly, given the magnitude of the damage, the Great Hurricane of ‘26 caused building officials in both Miami and Dade County to reexamine local building codes. It was easy enough to look around and see what had failed. Roofs had blown away – so codes began demanding stronger roof connections and more wind-resistant roofing material. Entire buildings had been knocked off their foundations – so better anchoring would be required. Block walls with little or no reinforcement had collapsed – leading to new requirements for masonry reinforcing.

       New regulations, of course, are only as good as their enforcement. And in the first few years after changes were adopted, compliance was spotty, especially in less-developed areas. Pressure to cut corners was exacerbated in the 1930s, when the whole country found itself fighting the Great Depression. Cash-strapped builders were eager to bend the rules, and some building officials turned a blind eye to strict code enforcement.
 
       But it wasn’t long before additional hurricanes showed up. A second hurricane struck South Florida in 1928, just two years later after the ’26 “Great” one. Known as the Okeechobee hurricane, this hurricane too, was classed as a Category 4 storm, but packed an even higher wind velocity, with winds topping 150 mph.
 
       Then came the 1935 Labor Day Hurricane, a Category 5 disaster that made landfall in the Keys with sustained winds reaching 185 miles an hour – a weather disaster that still holds the record as the strongest hurricane ever to strike the continental U.S..
 
       Yet another storm hit South Florida in 1945, this time a Category 4 known informally as Kappler’s, which walloped Homestead. Although the brunt of the storm’s damage affected South Dade communities, Miami, too, suffered some of its effects.
 
       Hurricane Donna (a Category 4) battered the Keys in 1960, then wound its way up the Gulf Coast causing widespread flooding and wind damage before veering northeast. Five years later (1965), Hurricane Betsy (a Category 3 when it hit Key Largo) left both widespread flooding and structural damage in Miami.
 
       Yet another Category-5 monster turned up in 1992 in the form of Hurricane Andrew. Striking near Homestead with sustained wind speeds of 165 mph, Andrew destroyed over 25,000 homes and flattened entire neighborhoods. Responsible for $27.3 billion in damages and 65 deaths, Andrew won the unhappy title of the most destructive hurricane in Florida history.

       Local building codes began to tighten incrementally in response. By the 1950s, reinforced concrete block homes had become common, and many contractors tried to strengthen roof connections. Instead of simply “toe-nailing” roof framing to an exterior wall, builders began wrapping simple metal straps around roof trusses and nailing those to the wall.  Such early “hurricane straps” were optional at first. Simpson Strong-Tie, a leader in metal reinforcing products, eventually added its own patented metal hurricane tie to its connector catalog in 1972.
 
       The first version of a South Florida Building Code, applicable to both incorporated and unincorporated areas, was adopted by Dade County in 1957, and soon became a model for other hurricane-prone regions across the nation. But it took Hurricane Andrew in 1992 to prompt a statewide revision of building requirements.
 
       Miami-Dade and Broward Counties pioneered the way, updating the South Florida Building Code to require storm shutters and impact-resistant walls to minimize harm from wind-borne debris, and prohibiting such practices as using staples for attaching plywood roof decks. New construction was required to use reinforced concrete block, and had to be designed to withstand winds of up to 175 miles per hour. Those new rules applied intially only within South Florida’s High Velocity Hurricane Zone. But in 2002, ten years after Andrew, Florida stepped up safety requirements with a new statewide Florida Building Code.
 
       Now, there were uniform standards for wind load, roofing connections, windows, and reinforced concrete. Even inspection protocols were standardized. Further adjustments to Florida’s building code were made in 2007, reflecting lessons learned during the devastating 2004-2005 hurricane season, when a series of vicious storms wreaked havoc across the United States. Among this unfortunate group were hurricane Katrina, which devastated Louisiana in 2005, and hurricane Wilma (also in 2005), which made landfall in Florida as a Category 2 but strengthened eventually into a category 5, becoming one of the most intense hurricanes ever measured and one of the costliest in Florida history.

       In response to these disasters, further updates were made to Florida’s building code in 2007. And the proof, as they say, is in the pudding. When Hurricane Irma struck in 2017, sweeping through the Keys as a Category 4 storm before moving northward as a Category 3, the benefits from the newer codes became obvious. Although Irma still caused widespread wind damage and flooding along Florida’s west coast, post-Andrew structures withstood the battering far better than those built earlier.
 
       Safety engineers, of course, used Irma as another object lesson to guide further improvement. Self-adhering roof underlayments to help resist wind damage were embraced in an FBC update in 2014, and roof sealing and attachment requirements were strengthened in a 2020 revision.
 
       Thanks to the lessons from these storms, Florida structures have come a long way since the 1926 disaster. In addition to improved structural connections and materials, buildings are now designed to minimize the build-up of interior pressure caused by a hurricane, a leading cause of earlier structural failures.

       Code enforcement in Miami-Dade is no longer a hit-or-miss affair. Inspectors now diligently check for hurricane clips, foundation anchors, secondary water barriers, approved roof connections, and product compliance. And not only are there minimum inspection requirements during construction; “milestone” inspections are required for buildings three stories or higher once they reach the 30-year mark and every ten years thereafter. As a result, many older buildings have undergone retrofits.
 
       All of these upgrades come with additional costs, of course. Some estimates put the increased cost of building a new home under the FBC at $1.66 per square foot, or $3,200 for an average-size home. Others point out that hurricane-resistant windows alone can set homeowners back $10,000 or more. One recent news article suggested a possible collapse of the Florida real estate market, due to the rising costs of regulation and insurance, and noting that some homeowners are now faced with assessments as high as $50k for required repairs, and some of the highest insurance premiums in the country.
 
       Ensuring structural resilience, maintaining affordability, and accurately predicting risk to human lives. . . it’s a difficult equation, with no easy answer. But a picture is worth a thousand words. One glance at photos from the 1926 hurricane shows the downside of getting it wrong.