Photo: Ken Ruinard/USA Today.
Asheville, North Carolina, after Hurricane Helene.
Asheville, NC. “I’m safe, but my house is structurally damaged and I’ve just dealt with FEMA and they’re very good and my insurance is being a pain in the neck so … ugh. Anyway, I don’t have power or water and I’m living in a neighbor’s house right now. Thank you for thinking of me. I’m safe and a little stranded feeling. I’ll try and reach out when I’ve got more definite news.”
I got that voicemail on October 7. Hurricane Helene struck my childhood friend’s home September 24. She didn’t answer email. I didn’t have her mobile phone number. But when the US mail delivered my letter to her, we connected.
Patrik Jonsson goes in depth at the Monitor about hurricane-tossed North Carolinians pulling together to help one another.
“Eric Gillespie put his sandals on, walked outside his house, and stood in awe at the sight of Clear Creek – usually a gurgling rivulet – rushing like a dark torrent.
“Then he heard the screams for help. Down a steep bank lay a row of cookie-cutter houses, now up to their eaves in muddy water. Friends and neighbors – some infirm – remained in their homes as nearly 30 feet of water rushed down the French Broad River system, rising in a matter of minutes, trapping a dozen neighbors unable to scramble to higher ground.
“ ‘That’s when things got crazy,’ says the owner of the Wakey Monkey coffee shop in nearby Saluda. ‘There was no way to prepare for what happened.’
“In a rescue scene replicated over 6,000 times across Appalachia as remnants of Hurricane Helene crashed into the steep terrain, neighbors and first responders rushed to action, using everything from sofa cushions and paddleboards to mules and Chinook helicopters in order to ferry friends and strangers to safety. Over 230 people died in the storm, the bulk of them in Appalachia. The toll includes 11 members of one family in the Asheville suburbs.
“ ‘There was both beauty and tragedy in the response,’ says Nathan Smith, a pilot from Charlotte, North Carolina, who surveyed the damage as he flew his 1979 Cessna 180 Skywagon on multiple missions into hard-hit county airports. …
“There were slip-ups and mistakes. But to many on the front lines here, the very worst that nature could conjure was met by the very best America had to give. …
“What promises to be a long recovery is now top of mind for residents of Greater Appalachia, many of them exhausted and still in shock at the discombobulation not only of their lives, but also of the geography of their valleys. …
“In Saluda, North Carolina, a railroad stop that became an adventure destination, the tone of the first meeting of the local business association after the storm was subdued at best.
“The Green River, a world-renowned kayaking destination, could remain impassable for months, if not years, some association members said. With major roads blocked and tourist towns like Bat Cave and Chimney Rock leveled, would anyone show up for leaf-peeping season?
“ ‘What happened was scary,’ says Emily Lamar, co-owner of The Purple Onion restaurant in Saluda. ‘What happens next is scary, too.’
“Access issues for rescue crews tell that story. There is little way to get from South Carolina to Tennessee as parts of Interstate 40 are washed out. The famous Blue Ridge Parkway is undrivable, covered with trees and washouts. Large parts of Asheville’s quirky River Arts District are smashed. {See photo.] Much of what was the iconic village of Chimney Rock is now wreckage situated downstream in Lake Lure. …
“One analogue is the city of New Orleans, which lost more than a quarter of its population [after Hurricane Katrina] 2005 and 2011. But just as New Orleans used that experience to strengthen its levees, many here hope these Carolina communities can build back stronger. Hard-hit Asheville, for one, has long debated better flood controls for its vulnerable River Arts District.
“ ‘This recovery, it’s going to be weeks, months, years, decades, if it’s ever complete,’ says Aaron Clark-Ginsberg, professor of policy analysis at the Pardee Rand Graduate School in Santa Monica, California. ‘Some of this trauma is going to be incorporated into the structure of the community.’ “
More at the Monitor, here. No paywall. Excellent pictures.


