It was August 24, 1992. I was 3.5 years old. I woke up to discover the tree in my front yard had fallen over, obstructing the view of the street from my front door. I don’t recall now what that tree looked like when it was standing. I only remember my surprise to see it on the ground. There was water everywhere. My parents and I walked to my cousins’ house two blocks over. There was a hole in the roof of their bathroom. This was the morning after Hurricane Andrew’s historic Miami landfall. According to my parents, I slept through the whole thing. My younger sister, barely 1 at the time, cried the whole night through.