Miama, Sunday.

ONE year after Hurricane Andrew, southern Florida is in the middle of

a baby boom, psychologists' offices are packed and the collective blood

pressure of the region soars on news of every Caribbean storm.

A quarter of a million people were left homeless and 85 died in the

storm on August 24, 1992, or its aftermath.

Andrew, with gusts of over 170 mph, left behind $30 billion worth of

damage that made it the nation's most expensive natural disaster.

It also left behind a climate of anxiety and fear that some mental

health experts have blamed for a sharp increase in drug and alcohol

abuse, domestic violence, and attempted suicides during the past year.

Children as young as five have talked about taking their own lives,

according to health officials.

In parts of Miami's Dade County, doctors reported birth rates had

risen by over a third nine months after the storm cut electricity and

forced people to stay at home.

At Miami's Mercy Hospital, the maternity ward had a nearly 50%

increase in new babies in May.

Baptist Hospital, where women sometimes spend the early hours of

labour in beds in hallways because the maternity ward is full, reported

the number of newborn babies was 30% higher in July than the previous

year.

''We park the mothers in every nook and cranny,'' said nursing

supervisor Kathy Philpot.

Obstetrician Stephen Chavoustie said: ''We're seeing a baby boom that

should last through December. We're going to be busy.''

Business is also brisk for meteorologists, psychologists and social

workers.

The hurricane wrecked more than just houses, office buildings and

palm-fringed boulevards.

South Florida's confident view of itself as a tropical paradise,

attracting residents ranging from Hollywood celebrities to Colombian

drug dealers, has been rattled this hurricane season.

Worried callers swamped the National Hurricane Centre during two

Caribbean tropical storms earlier this month, although both were more

than 1000 miles away and posed no threat to Florida's calm waters and

brilliant blue skies.

Entrepreneurs are taking advantage of residents' fears to sell

mail-order hurricane survival kits. Some contain nothing more than

bottled water, flashlights and canned food, while others offer gourmet

dried food and portable toilets.

While material damage to homes is still being repaired, psychologists

have organised scores of ''talk groups'' for hurricane victims to pour

out their feelings of anger, fear and helplessness.

Some are diagnosed as having post-traumatic stress syndrome -- the

same thing experienced by many US soldiers returning from the jungles of

Vietnam.

A $15m federal grant is paying for a ''Hurricane Anxiety Hotline'',

staffed with social workers around the clock to help calm lingering

fears. The line was inundated with calls earlier this month as the two

Caribbean storms threatened.

Callers to the hotline range from schoolchildren worried about their

families to the elderly concerned about where to go during the next

storm.

The parents of one four-year-old called the hotline when their son

began to frequently spin around the house, hurling dishes and screaming.

''He said that Hurricane Andrew was making him do it,'' said Roca.

''It shouldn't be surprising that some of these kids are suicidal,''

said Dr Linda Marraccini. ''Kids have been uprooted from their homes,

schools and friends. It was pretty traumatic to find out that your mommy

and daddy can't protect you.'' -- Reuter.