Reporter's Notebook: Irma's wrath conjures decades-old memories of Andrew

MIAMI -- Like so many who have called Miami home, I have experienced more than two decades worth of hurricanes -- as both a resident and a journalist.

This week, Hurricane Irma showed her powerful face at the doorstep of so many across the Southeast, leaving at least 12 dead and causing billions in damage. For our ABC News coverage, my team was based in Downtown Miami. As Irma approached, we took precautions to select a building that features special hurricane safety codes, and ensured it had pure concrete walls and impact-resistant windows.

Hurricane Andrew: A look back

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A day like no other, Aug. 24, 1992, was the day Hurricane Andrew wreaked havoc on southern Florida, leaving entire trailer parks flattened and rows of concrete power poles toppled. Tens of thousands of people were left homeless as the storm, known as the Big One, ripped through the area before moving west toward the Gulf and Louisiana. A sailboat sits on a sidewalk at Dinner Key in Miami after it was washed ashore by Hurricane Andrew.

Terry Renna/AP

But no matter how secure the building, nothing could stop Irma’s roar from echoing across my hometown. The howl was so loud, I woke up to it at 4 a.m. -- long before we began our 16-hour special coverage on ABC.

Irma sounded like a freight train barreling through Miami at full speed, at times causing the building to shake. It sounded like the full force of this monster storm was coming straight at us -- only amplifying the worry that a tornado could pop up at any moment. We could only hope that it wouldn’t come for us.

The only other hurricane I remember with a sound so haunting was the one I’d rather forget: Hurricane Andrew.

Irma leaves path of destruction

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A girl rests her head on a set of towels supplied by the American Red Cross at a makeshift shelter, after arriving in San Juan, Puerto Rico, Sept. 14, 2017, on a cruise ship with families evacuated from Caribbean islands devastated by Hurricane Irma.

Ricardo Arduengo/AP

There is something very personal about that sound. I was just 7 years old when Andrew blew into South Florida, killing 44 people and causing $26.5 billion in damage. It was 1992, and the skies were blood red -- or at least that's how I remember it. My family couldn't sleep. You just can't sleep with something that scary knocking at your door. The only thing I could think to do was hide under the dining room table.

The devastation and destruction we saw in the aftermath of Andrew created even more terror. Now, memories of that devastation immediately came to my mind, 25 years later, in the midst of a much larger system: Hurricane Irma.