Surviving Helene

Crack! Woomp! Those were the sounds I awoke to on Friday, September 27, in our apartment in Black Mountain, North Carolina along with the 55 mile-per-hour winds and driving rain. Helene arrived that morning in its fury, and was pounding the mountains mercilessly. My wife Julie and I got up to find the power out and water going out with it. I had done minimal preparations for the storm, recognizing it could cause a lot of trouble, but not realizing just how much trouble it would be. A large tree crashed down in our 3-story building's front lawn, leaving branches overhanging the front deck railing with debris on the steps. Then came a loud Crack! Bang! Woomp! as a large tree near the rear corner of the building came down, taking at least one other tree down with it, and a corner of the roof with its shingles, soffit, and facia, and downspout. I found myself growing extra nervous as some trees were cracking and snapping off, while others were getting yanked up by the roots and blown over.

I began to wonder about our vehicles in the parking lot. Was a tree lying across them, or the limbs from a huge oak on the edge of the lot? As the morning wore on and the storm started to subside, Julie stepped out onto our back deck to assess the damage, looking first at what the downed tree did to our building's roof, and then looking in the other direction toward the parking lot. Both of our vehicles had some debris on them, but were otherwise untouched. A tree on the other side of the lot was uprooted but fell in the opposite direction. That was the first of a list of blessings that we were able to count. As the storm moved on, we added the fact that a tree hadn't smashed down our building, killing us or other tenants.

The aftermath proved to be as bad or worse than the storm itself. We were to learn that the Swannanoa River Valley to the west and below us was badly flooded, drowning scores of residents while destroying homes and businesses. The North Fork Dam on the Swannanoa was dangerously close to breaching, and residents below the dam were warned the night before the storm to evacuate. That turned into a frantic order announced over the radio during the storm, but it was too late. The dam was overflowing at that point, water pouring over its top, inundating the river valley. Those who managed to survive in most cases had to be plucked out by rescue workers and taken to safety. The community of Swannanoa, just to the west of Black Mountain, suffered the worst destruction and loss of life. Farther into Asheville, a former motel turned into living quarters for male veterans was badly flooded, and the veterans had to be evacuated by the National Guard. The famous Biltmore Village section of Asheville was completely submerged.

We would learn in the days after the storm the extent of the tragic loss of life in the area. On the south side of Black Mountain, one family built a cluster of homes up on the mountainside with State Highway 9 winding its way in switchback fashion up to their locations. Between the 12 inches of rain that fell on the area for several days prior to Helene's arrival, and the hurricane itself, the mountainside gave way and most of the homes were swept down in the mud and rock, killing 12 members of that family. There were heart-breaking stories of people caught in vehicles that flooded, and in homes they couldn't escape. People who survived in Swannanoa found the bodies of neighbors in trees, along the riverbanks, and in destroyed homes. The valley would never be the same again.

How I handled this whole catastrophe was not something I could claim as heroism. There was nothing heroic about how I reacted to the destruction, death, and deprivation brought on by the storm. That Friday evening, Julie and I sat down to a dinner consisting of 5 ounce cans of tuna and packaged fruit, because we didn't want to open the refrigerator door to take out other food. Without the ability to prepare food, we both wondered what we would do about eating and surviving. That was answered in part, the next day, by hot eggs, bacon, and bread served up off a small gas grill by a young man on our street who works as a chef for a local restaurant. He took food that would have to be thrown out and prepared it for anyone on the street who wanted a hot breakfast.

Another neighbor across the street from our building set up both gas and charcoal grills in front of her house, cooking up food from her freezer along with what other neighbors brought. She and her two daughters cooked up meat and vegetables for anyone on the street who needed a hot meal. Others pitched in bringing gas bottles and charcoal as well as food for grilling, while a couple of others helped with cooking. This lasted two days until the woman's daughters became too distraught over the lack of electricity and water, and felt they couldn't keep cooking. They left for a relative's home in Charlotte. Other neighbors pulled out and left as well, leaving us to eat what we could from our food supply, and looking for other places around town from which we could receive hot meals. We looked to donate meat from our freezer to a church in town that was serving hot lunches every day, but they couldn't accept it because they were overwhelmed with donations and had no place to keep any more.

The lack of water posed special challenges as well. One of the practical problems was flushing our toilet. We have a brook that runs alongside our housing development that we can draw water from, but that involves carrying jugs down to where we can get it, and then carrying them back uphill to our building. We found neighbors that we met who were willing to help with this, and their kindness became another in a succession of blessings we experienced that weekend. We also were the recipients, along with other neighbors around our street. of packs of bottled water from two different sources. A neighbor who ran two specialty grocery stores in the area loaded his pickup with 24 packs of bottled water and delivered them to our homes. A church in Charlotte sent a truck up to our neighborhood to distribute 40-pack water cases along with snacks, batteries, and large flashlights complete with batteries. All of these acts of kindness and generosity brought a ray of hope to all of us around our circle.

The harsh reality of the overall situation hit me full force on Monday, September 30. Other neighbors leaving, and the troubling problems caused by no power or water overwhelmed me that morning, and I found myself in tears wondering how we could hang on there. I felt the only thing that made sense for Julie and me was to leave and go to family member's homes for a couple of weeks until power could at least be restored. I looked to head up to the Midwest to visit siblings on both sides of the family. I learned that morning, however, that interstates in three directions, including north and west, were closed, and that the only way out of the Asheville area was to go south into South Carolina, and then go in other directions. This left me feeling even more bleak and afraid, wondering how we would hold up through this ordeal. That afternoon we attended a town meeting with officials who told us it would most likely take a couple of weeks to get power restored to the whole town, and at least a month for water. I left the meeting feeling even lower about our circumstances and how we might last through the trial.

Another reality confronting us was the fact that the non-profit, Christian relief organization Julie works for was requiring her to stay put and keep working at her accounting job, paying bills and helping in whatever ways were necessary. That left me with the dilemma of: Should I stay and tough out the situation, or leave and go to my sister's home in Pennsylvania? I knew it would appear lame to a lot of people to see me leave my poor wife in a situation like this to go stay in a home where I'd have all my needs met. But I could find little purpose in my staying and being unable to do much but sit in an unlit apartment with no electricity and no cell phone service readily available. As gut-wrenching as it was to think of leaving Julie behind, I felt I had no choice but to go to Pennsylvania. That evening, I told Julie of my plans and that I would pack the next day to go, and she was on board with me. I would be one less mouth for emergency services to feed, and one less to provide water for.

Tuesday, October 1 I spent packing after helping Julie get water for the toilet before she left for work. It kept me in a more positive frame of mind as I began loading my truck and getting everything together I felt I would need for a month's stay. When she got home from work, Julie and I went down to our local supermarket which was still closed to get a hot meal and some water in jugs for our toilet. I went to bed that night at peace about my decision to leave, with only a nagging concern that my sister and brother-in-law would not be amenable to my staying with them for an extended period of time. That was answered the next day when I called my sister and told her I was on my way up, and she assured me that she and my brother-in-law were looking at the possibility of driving down to find us, since we hadn't been able to establish contact with them. She also told me I was needed there to help with matters involving our mother's estate, since I am the executor.

What I take away from this whole experience of surviving a catastrophic storm is that a tragedy like this can bring neighbors together who previously haven't spoken with each other. and share food and fellowship with each other. That was a blessing of huge magnitude under the circumstances. It also is an experience that brings a fresh sense of humility to one like myself, recognizing how interdependent I am on others when disaster strikes. While I wasn't able to do much to help others while I was still down in Black Mountain, I'm now in a place where I can do a lot more good doing what I do best, and that's writing about the storm and its aftermath. There are people down in the mountains of western North Carolina and eastern Tennessee who are still trapped in homes where access has been cut off by washed out roads and bridges. There is an ongoing need for fresh water to be supplied to people still living down there, trying to pick up the pieces of their lives while utilities, particularly water, is being restored. The need for food, medicine, and other supplies is continuing, even as various relief organizations and FEMA work to assist them. I would encourage all who read this to consider giving to one or more such private organizations who are doing the bulk of the relief and recovery effort to the area.

These organizations include: The American Red Cross, The Salvation Army, Samaritan's Purse, Hearts with Hands, Asheville/Buncombe Community Christian Ministry. There are others you will find are helping if you look up relief efforts for Hurricane Helene in Georgia, the Carolinas, and Tennessee.