We Thought a $130K Investment Would Hurricane-Proof Our Home — Then Hurricane Michael Destroyed It

Rebuild, Relocate, Rethink: What Happens to Our Homes in a Changing Climate examines how climate change intersects with our homes and the way we live. Check out the stories here.

When my husband and I talked about moving to Florida in 2016, the one thing that drew us in the most was having a home on — or at least much nearer to — the coastline. The thought of summers and springs spent surfing in the water and mornings by the beach was enough to solidify a move from Chicago to the sunshine state.

However, we were not naive. We had seen how hurricane season in Florida transformed from a period of cautious weather alerts into a full-blown lifestyle of storm preparedness. We did what any responsible, forward-thinking homeowners would do — we heavily invested in storm preparation. 

Our new 1,600-square-foot bungalow-style home in Mexico Beach had three bedrooms, two bathrooms, and a wide front porch shaded by old oak trees. It was built with intention and cost $750,000. We thought it would be our forever home, so we also spent $130,000 to “hurricane-proof” it — or at least make it more resistant to storms, lashing rain, heavy winds, and surges.

We thought that an $880,000 investment would be worth its weight in gold — until October 10, 2018, when Hurricane Michael, a category 5 hurricane, ran us to the ground. It was the strongest hurricane to ever make landfall in our panhandle town of Mexico Beach. And just two years after we moved in, it wiped out our home.

We added proper structural measures to the home so that it would remain undamaged in the face of the strongest hurricane (or at least a very strong one). We consulted local specialists to ensure our home design followed and exceeded Florida’s most stringent hurricane coastal codes. We found comfort in knowing that we were taking the right steps to stay afloat — literally. 

Here’s how we hurricane-proofed our home.

• Reinforced our roofing system. To secure our roof, we used tie-down, extra-thick, metallic hurricane straps and clips that anchored to our home’s foundation. The experts also added a peel-and-stick waterproof membrane to minimize water intrusion if the roof shingles were compromised in the event of a hurricane.
• Installed impact-resistant doors and windows. We used storm-rated doors and windows with heavy-duty aluminum frames to withstand 150- to 160-mile-per-hour winds and debris. All vulnerable entry points, including the garage, were secured.
• Elevated the foundation and added flood measures. We elevated our home four feet above the Base Flood Elevation and added floor vents that would prevent the storm from building up pressure and instead surge through a small crawl space. 
• Used well-thought-out landscaping. We thought that keeping the landscaping clear of heavy canopy trees that would cause fall accidents during strong storms would reduce our risk of having something like a tree fall through our roof. We only used heavy mulching to cover up debris. 

We were told that these added measures meant that our home, in theory, could withstand winds of up to 160 miles per hour and a storm surge of up to 10 feet, which is otherwise classified as a category 5 hurricane, which can cause catastrophic damage. A category 5 had never hit Mexico Beach, so we felt overprepared. We went above and beyond to do everything “right” and follow protocol, but Hurricane Michael destroyed our home — and the money and effort we put into it vanished in hours.

Hurricane Michael was only the fourth hurricane to make landfall on the panhandle as a Category 5 in recorded history, but it won’t be the last. What started as a manageable category 2 storm defied weather forecasts and grew stronger overnight into a category 5. And by the time evacuation seemed necessary, it felt too late and too dangerous. We feared for our lives but believed that we had built a home that could withstand anything; it was hurricane-proof, reinforced, and familiar. But we were wrong. Nothing could have prepared us for the sheer violence that accompanied the hurricane. It didn’t just destroy our home — it shattered the whole of Bay County. 

The first sign of trouble was water rushing into our main living area, even though we had elevated our home and added floor vents. The water completely soaked the floors and drywalls. We had prepared for storms before, but had never seen anything like this. 

We had no choice but to evacuate. We had 72 hours before the storm arrived to move to a storm shelter 30 to 40 miles inland or 70 miles away in Jackson County, and the amount of damage in our home and neighborhood that we were already seeing didn’t leave any room for second-guessing our decision. By the time we returned a few days later, our entire home had collapsed and was left in shambles.

The roof was completely ripped off and the rain had soaked everything inside. Glass pieces from the shattered windows scattered like shrapnel across the floors. While some interior walls were missing, others had buckled entirely. The vent and ductwork had been torn apart, leaving gaping holes in the ceiling where insulation now hung like limp seaweed. The siding was no exception, the porch collapsed, and the back wall was partially open, exposing what used to be our living room to the open sky. The scent of wet wood and sourness hung in the air. Our home was no longer inhabitable.

We learned that even the most fortified home can fail in the face of a hurricane as devastating as Hurricane Michael, which destroyed 60,000 structures (3,000 of which were completely obliterated) and killed more than 70 people. According to experts from RENCO, a renowned hurricane-proofing construction company, as climate change fuels stronger and more frequent storms, smarter and more reliable structures are the solution. 

For instance, to ensure your home is hurricane-proofed, the company offers structural joists that are stronger than steel, yet more sustainable and green than traditional construction, which means that you don’t have to worry about destruction and rebuilding after a storm. 

While our home’s foundation was elevated for a storm surge of up to 10 feet, it actually cracked during the hurricane — a reality we hadn’t planned for, nor one that we had expected. In the end, it was the weakest link in our home and quickly compromised our entire structure; it caused it to cave inward, and our house slowly gave in. After all, anything in the world is only as strong as its foundation. I’ve always wondered whether better building technology would have saved us from the aftermath.

Coming back to our home after the storm felt like stepping into a nightmare. We knew it would be bad — I’d seen photos and heard rumors, but seeing it with our own eyes was surreal. The street was barely recognizable. Trees were snapped like matchsticks and power lines dangled like loose threads. When I turned the corner and saw what was left of our house, my stomach dropped.

The first emotion that hit me wasn’t grief, it was disbelief. Numbness, almost. But then came the overwhelming weight and grief. This wasn’t just a house — it was where we built our lives, celebrated birthdays, shared meals, and had arguments. It was our safe space away from the cruel world. And now, in an instant, it was all exposed and broken. I felt devastated, vulnerable, and unsafe. Like the very ground under me wasn’t solid anymore. And in a way, it wasn’t. 

We were experiencing all of these emotions, but we also had to act. We filed a home insurance claim three days after assessing the damage on our property, and although we received assistance, it wasn’t without a fight. We got an initial payment after 70 days of filing, and the full settlement after a year-and-a-half. Our policy covered structural losses, but like many who had lost their homes in the area, we still learned the painful lesson of financial ruin. However, the emotional toll was the heaviest. 

We moved in with family for two years while we rebuilt a new home from the ground up on the land that was left behind. This time, we were eager to get everything right and rebuild differently, but we realized there was no perfect structure. You can prepare for damage, but you can’t predict what will happen in an increasingly unpredictable climate.

We added one extra thing to our home this time for peace of mind: an underground storm shelter. Although we didn’t think we would need this type of structure in Florida, we didn’t know what we were missing until we had it. It’s like a security blanket of sorts, filled with emergency supplies that allow us to plan for unforeseen climate disasters. 

Losing a home is not just about the structural loss; it’s the memories, the safety, and the sense of normalcy. We’ll always carry the quiet grief for the place we once called home. We lost everything all at once, but I’m glad we didn’t lose each other.