A note from Asheville.

This is Lenora, co-founder/partner of SmallGood, writing to you from Asheville, NC.

As many of you know, I live in this city now and as I'm sure you've been seeing on the news, Asheville was just devastated by Hurricane Helene. And yes, Asheville is in the mountains, far from Florida.?

My husband, Gary, and I have always loved Asheville – the mountains are gut-wrenchingly gorgeous, and it’s a hip, artsy town full of artisans and people trying to do “small good” things for the world. Our kind of place. (Side note: he and I met and got married down here, so yeah, big-time romantic points, too…)

When, a few years after starting SmallGood, I realized that since we work in a distributed model, Mylene and I can work – and live – anywhere, Gary and I started looking at some options of where we’d like to live if we ever left Chicago. And ultimately settled on Asheville. Seemed perfect.

Moving here, another thing we thought, and I’m sure I said out loud because I tend to be a worrier…was that one of the things that was so great about Asheville was that it was sort of a “climate haven.” No big weather extremes here… no snowpocalypses like Chicago, no earthquakes like California, no hurricanes like on the coasts…

And then Helene happened. ?

First, I want to say, Gary and I are safe. We are some of the luckiest ones whose house wasn’t lost in a flood or crushed by a falling tree. A tree fell in a neighbor’s yard and hit our house, but with only minor damage since we didn’t get the bulk of it.

Last I’ve heard, 59 people in Buncombe County have lost their lives. 120 across the southeast. And thousands more have lost their homes and livelihoods. Most people no longer have power, clean running water, internet, or cell. There are long lines to buy water and food at the few grocery stores that are open. And for gas.

Having a daily shower, something I used to take for granted, is impossible for the majority of the people in Asheville and the surrounding areas right now. ?Gary and I have a creek that runs behind our house, and he has been hauling water up in buckets and we’ve been using it to flush toilets and boiling it for us to use to wash ourselves.?

The tourist/restaurant business has been huge here and I can’t help but think about friends who work in restaurants and bars and hotels who have no income coming in at the moment and probably won’t for a very long time. The amazing River Arts District is under water, and I think of all the creative work (and income and beauty) lost under flood waters. And like so many cities, we also have large numbers of houseless folks who live on the edge anyway…they are struggling even more, as you can imagine.

it's all just so heartbreaking. There's a lot of grief here. Lots of different kinds of losses.

I know many of you will want to help. I’ve added links of on-the ground organizations I know of at the end.

You also might want to read this article “Climate havens don’t exist.” From the New York Times.

I’ve known that we are in the middle of a climate crisis for a long time, but in the last few days, I’ve been living through it. We have to take this seriously. Living in denial or despair or helplessness just isn’t going to cut it anymore.

And finally, I can’t recommend this book enough. Life After Doom: Wisdom and Courage for a World Falling Apart by Brian D. McLaren .

I started reading it a few days before Helene hit. Little did I know…

Not only does McLaren take a hard look at where we are right now, he also offers some tangible things we can do – beyond just recycling and voting (which is key, of course) and liking posts on social media. I wouldn’t say it’s a comforting book in the usual way – but it made me feel less alone and more awake and less powerless. And that WAS comforting.

Since most of you probably don’t follow my personal Facebook page, I thought I’d include some thoughts about this whole experience I posted there yesterday.?

“It all feels surreal most of the time. Like walking into a dystopian YA novel except we are not that young anymore!

But we are trying to go one day at a time. Trying to remain calm and kind and generous. Asking friends and strangers, "Are you all right?" a lot.

When the mail carrier came to our house yesterday morning - I was so shocked - he delivered the coffee from our coffee subscription - one we signed up for during the pandemic (and just kept going btw). And the mailman asked if I was all right, and I almost started crying, and I kind of wanted to hug him, not for the coffee per se - but because I was so happy he was doing something normal like delivering mail in the midst of the chaos. And because he was so kind and seemed to actually care if we were all right. Like we weren't complete strangers.

Here's one thing I have been feeling:

We are all less strangers than we imagine ourselves to be.

Some young friends we've met here, Tenley and Gavin, drove by to check on us on Friday night and gave us an extra flashlight before our power came back on. They have been going around volunteering wherever they can and checking in on everyone than can ever since Friday.?

Our friends Ken and Nancy came by last night with pasta, and we cooked it together on our working electric stove (they still have no power) and had dinner together. That was beautiful.”

I’m happy to say, Ken and Nancy came again for dinner last night. I was able to buy drinking water yesterday, and I made pizza for all of us, and honestly, it tasted like heaven to me. And not because of my cooking which is average at best.

No, it tasted like heaven because I believe we are meant for communion and community. That is what is most necessary. The real essential. We are on this earth to love.?

And we are only going to be able to continue to live on this planet if we start acting like it more often. Not just when a hurricane hits.

This experience has also been a reminder that so much that we expect and depend on can change in an instant (ahem…showers for instance).

There’s so much we can’t control.

We are not in charge really of anything except how we live. How we love.

So, donate if you can (suggestions below). ??

Maybe you’ll also want to give someone a hug today if you’re comfortable with the whole hugging thing. During the pandemic, some folks and I started saying this mantra out loud – you might want to try it too, if not out loud, then at least loud and clear in your own mind:

I am not alone. You are not alone. We are not alone.

Donations:

I would recommend giving to Beloved Asheville, an organization that’s been on the ground doing good work in this city, feeding, housing and caring for people for a long time. If you do come visit eventually, you’ll want to see the tiny houses they are building for folks in Beloved Village. Amazing. Check them out and donate here: https://belovedasheville.com/get-involved/

Follow them on Facebook here. https://www.facebook.com/BeLovedAsheville

Also, you could give to Equal Plates Project.

They have two kitchens in Asheville going , and they are feeding food-insecure folks nutritious food from local farmers every day.

Thank you.

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