I remember Hurricane Andrew.
It was devastating and personally bewildering - Hurricane Andrew was like nothing I had ever seen in my life.
Raised in Arizona and Nevada, earthquakes were not unfamiliar, but this devastation was difficult to sort out, and frustrating.
People were in desperate straits. They needed help, and for once, as a veteran newsman, I had no answers.
Around every corner was another story and it was usually worse that the last.
As it was with many of us, Hurricane Andrew was not something to just report on, it became our lives and it became personal. I too became homeless. The Saga Bay apartment I had rented months earlier was totally trashed - it was easy to relate.
If Andrew was frightening, the recovery was pure drudgery. If Andrew was the worst of times, the stories of the recovery approached being the best of times, but it was oh-so-slow, heart breaking as a major portion of the South Dade population fled and mom and pop stores disappeared.
The Homestead Air Force base was a complete loss and Homestead, which so resembles my hometown - agricultural, military, a little tourism - was flat on its back.
We reported and reported, exhausted every day, knowing that this was probably the story of our lives.
That lives with me still - the sounds, the sights and the smell of Hurricane Andrew.