It’s been four weeks since I last posted – and if you remember I wrote that piece on Thursday, September 26, the day before Helene hammered Western North Carolina. In many ways, it’s too early for me to begin to process all that has happened here. I’ve lived through a couple of natural disasters before, but this one is unmatched.
In the piece I published on September 27, I said:
It's taking the time to get clear on our values that makes it so difficult to set priorities. There are more good things to do with our time than we can possibly do; however, if we take the time to consider what matters most to us – and to our company, family, friends – we can make choices that save energy for committed actions rather than expend that energy on overwhelm.
Little did I know how quickly this sentiment would be tested. We went to bed Thursday night knowing there was already 15 inches measured on the rain gauge. We woke Friday morning to more rain and wind. Our generator had kicked on in the wee hours of the morning. The scene on the lake outside our house – which sits WAY above the water – was horrid. Actually, it was turbid. A rushing flow of mud, trees, decks, propane tanks, trash bins and more flowed by all day long. We feared for our friends upstream in Chimney Rock.
A few hours later, getting clear on my values became easy. Was everyone that mattered to me alive? Did they have a place to stay? Food to eat? Clean water to drink? How can I find out any of this without a way to make a phone call?
We first decided to walk, since driving was probably out of the question. So we put the leash on Piper, grabbed the drone and started walking towards the center of town. We saw lots of trees down, tangled in power lines. As we walked, we ran into several people we knew. Very quickly we were warned to be prepared for what we were about to see.
We couldn’t get very far. The bridge between us and Chimney Rock was completely blocked with remnants of houses and businesses that had washed away. I still haven’t seen Chimney Rock in person.
Below you can see some of the first pictures we got on Friday afternoon – just a couple of hours after the storm moved on.
Now my attention turned to those closest to me. Russ managed to get over to Mystic Waters, where our daughter Jen lives, and he brought her and her dog back to our house.
The next few days were a blur of dodging downed trees, crumbling roads, and emergency vehicles trying to find a signal to let people know we were ok. Helicopters started flying non-stop, and we got some comfort knowing people were coming to help. We still didn’t know what they were coming to help with.
The rest of the world knew more than we did.
Later we would learn that hundreds of people were being evacuated from the new islands created by landslides and broken roads. Water was scarce at first as the systems we take for granted were taken out. The helicopters brought rescue, generators, fuel and connectivity.
As we navigated hour by hour over the next week, I wondered what the heck I had been doing before this that seemed so urgent. How was I always so busy? How was I finding plenty of time now to take care of what mattered most? Maybe it was because the phone in my pocket had become a black brick.
Even as the phone offered no connectivity, listening became a critical skill. Word was getting passed from person to person. What was credible? What was not? Had the Lake Lure dam actually failed? Were we all going to be evacuated? Where was the closest place to get water, gas, food? How would we get past check points? If we left, could we get back? How long was the crumbling road last before it was no longer safe? Could the big trucks even get to us to restore power?
One of the most hopeful moments happened a couple of days in. We were heading over to Mystic Waters to clear out the refrigerator and freezer before things sat there too long. In the parking lot of Ingles, we saw a little yellow umbrella, a pickup truck, a generator and a sign that said “Free Wifi”. We stopped to check it out, and a young couple from down the road had brought their Starlink from home and set up a coffee station to offer comfort and connectivity. “We just had to do SOMETHING,” she said. I cried. By this time, I had found a place to sneak out a few texts to let people know we were ok. But the spirit of generosity of this couple opened up my sense of gratitude.
While cleaning out the kitchen, we found a bag of ice that had not yet melted and a case of water, so we took it back to our new friends in the parking lot. A day later, the Christian Aide group showed up to offer toilets, showers and free food twice a day. Essential needs were being met. Again, we were so grateful to know that people would be able to have the things they needed to survive.
I started noticing so many tiny moments of gratitude. Simple little “coincidences” where I was in the right place at the right time. Freeman Gas being able to resupply us with propane. Seeing faces of my friends who were also surviving. Beautiful, rain-free weather. (I’m probably going to twitch the next time it rains.) Finding my lost paddle board on Mystic Waters. Hundreds of moments where uncertainty met gratitude and gratitude won.
A week in, we made a supply run to South Carolina and reveled in the sense of normalcy – even though we had to use cash to buy our groceries. Another moment of gratitude – I had picked up some cash in preparation for the storm.
Finally, we began to see trucks coming to fix things. First, Pangaea trying to restore internet. Second, NC DOT to fix the crumbling road. (Which was my biggest concern given that the only other route out of town was fully destroyed in the flood.) Finally, about 8 days in, the power companies showed up in full force. Power was restored to Mystic Waters on day 9 – to our house on day 11. The other internet companies are still working to restore connectivity and it’s been 4 weeks. The thing I might have been the MOST grateful for was our generator and foresight to have ample fuel.
A disaster like this strips away all the stuff that doesn’t matter. Our values became so clear in the face of the disruption of the things we take for granted in everyday living. We reminded ourselves to take things one day, one hour, one minute at a time.
If this monster flood was a wave, we did our best to ride it every day, not because it was fun, but because it was necessary. One of the things I’ve struggled with most was being impacted less than so many others. I believe they call it “survivor’s guilt.” Yet once again, I’m reminded that “comparison is the thief of joy.” Never has it been truer than now. Each of us were dealt different cards – we have to play the hand we were dealt. I’ve met so many who lost everything and are still living in deep gratitude. The thought that perhaps has helped me most is this: “This is my journey. That is their journey.”
I’m so incredibly grateful for all of you who have texted, emailed, sent notes on the socials letting me know you cared -and that you are standing by to help. The response to this event has been nothing short of miraculous.
You may still be standing by, wondering how you can help. Thank you – we need it, because this recovery will take a LONG time.
In answer to the question I’m still getting several times a day, I have three suggestions for where to offer your financial help (and perhaps also receive some help if you need it.)
R.E.I.N. Rescue: REIN has been very active in organizing donations for harder hit areas north of Asheville, while rescuing horses and offering programs to help people help themselves through stressful times. You can make donations by going to https://www.reinrescue.org/ and clicking the red DONATE NOW button in the right corner. While you are there, watch the 3-minute video on how REIN Rescue came to be. Joy Baker has been doing an incredible job helping horses find the perfect home, while also helping people as well. REIN is the ONLY place I’m also recommending hard goods, as most other sites are turning away donations. You can see part of the list here:
https://www.facebook.com/photo?fbid=122169206330114002&set=pcb.122169206366114002
Forca Foundation: My friend Tammy Tappan, through the Forca Foundation, has launched an emergency campaign to provide immediate relief to the families devastated by the storm. 100% of the donations will go directly to the need, as the operational costs have already been fully funded by the founders Johnny and Karmen Mira-Knippel. I truly believe in their mission, as they are boots on the ground with the effort, making sure that families in the Lake Lure/Chimney Rock area who need it most will get the help they need. They have already announced several families that they have directly impacted. Text NCSTRONG to 53555 to donate.
The Lake Lure Police Department: Russ and I have been long time supporters of our local police department. In normal times, they do heroic things. During THESE times, they've been extraordinary. Town Hall, where they have their offices, was damaged in the flooding. They also lost several cars in the flooding. They have been out every day of this event doing their normal jobs and so much more. If you have ever been in a disaster zone, you understand how important it is to keep everyone safe, and these guys are doing it! You can make donations by writing a check to Lake Lure Police Department,
P.O. Box 195, Lake Lure, NC 28746.
If you are interested in volunteering, both REIN Rescue and Forca Foundation have needs that can use your skills! Reach out to me and I will get you in touch.
My gratefulness for your love and support knows no bounds!