If you look for resiliency, you will find it. People are resourceful. They are hardwired to survive, so when their survival is threatened, they show amazing creativity and resolve to ensure they get on the other side. People are especially resilient if they tap into their community in a time of crisis.
This is what happened when a hurricane hit the mountains of Southern Appalachia. How the people of this region responded is one of the most powerful examples of resilience I’ve ever witnessed. This is a story of resiliency after Helene.
Hurricane Helene unleashed its fury upon the delicate tapestry of Western North Carolina and East Tennessee, exposing the raw power of nature. The region's unique terrain, a labyrinth of mountains and valleys, amplified the storm's destructive force. Rivers beat their previous flood records and pumped unbelievable amounts of water at intense speeds. Trees fell like toothpicks and soggy wet ground became landslides that took out everything in their path. Yet, amidst the devastation, a remarkable story of community resilience unfolded.
I’m a Carolina girl. I grew up in Buncombe County, living both in Asheville and in Leicester. The Messer clan on my mother’s side settled in the deep mountains of Jackson County and then eventually made their way to Haywood County. For me, home is the mountains, and I don’t think that will ever change.
Although I’m now in Clarkston, Georgia, I saw everything unfold with Helene from a close-up view. I lived the devastation through the texts of family members and friends, Facebook posts, and local news outlets. The destruction I’ve witnessed secondhand animates my dreams and the stories of loss and survival keep me up at night. However, there are other stories being told - those of grit and gumption. These inspire me and make me proud to be from that community.
Turning Tragedies into Music
The storm's wrath was far-reaching. At least 226 lives lost with the death toll still rising 6 weeks later. Rivers and landslides swallowed up homes, businesses, and infrastructure. Trees caused widespread damage and trapped people in their driveways. Roads, including I-40 between Tennessee and North Carolina, were washed away. The region's infrastructure was crippled, leaving many without essential services like water, electricity, and communication. The isolation, compounded by the rugged terrain, deepened the sense of vulnerability.
I can’t accurately recount the stories of tragedy, for they are too overwhelming. I hold the stories I’ve heard with honor. I am confident that the storm of Helene will be told for generations to come.
One story caught my attention on Substack. Veronica Limeberry wrote about her visit to Jim Veto, an elder seed saver in Yancy County. She wonders,
“How do I begin this story? The one that starts with the rage of water, flooding beyond every historic line in recorded history. The one that marks the ‘before’ and ‘after’ so painfully clear; a path of shattered houses, ancient trees, old bridges, entire lives battered and destroyed, left on receding banks of toxic mud?”
Veronica wrote that after a spell on the porch, Jim asked, “Do you want to hear a ballad I wrote?” He tells her,
“All morning I didn’t know if I’d make it; but then at about noon the birds started singing, and I knew I’d be okay, that it was over. Then I wrote this song. The ballad is in the style of one county over.”
And that’s what mountain people are known for. Turning tragedies into music.
Coming Together to Help One Another
In the face of adversity, the mountain culture of family, neighborliness, and self-reliance shone through. Communities, often wary of outsiders, embraced help from near and far.
Ingenious solutions emerged immediately. Neighbors came out with chainsaws to cut away at trees blocking roads. Families grilled all the food in their freezers to share with the neighborhood. Friends lucky enough to have well water opened their homes for those whose water supply was disrupted. Local businesses set up charging stations with electric cords so passersby could connect with loved ones. The accounts of community love go on and on!
I watched a video of a community in Avery County coming together to construct a makeshift bridge from flatbed trucks. The supply chain between that community and East Tennessee was impacted by a bridge taken out. They lined up flatbeds in the riverbed, built a bridge across, and used ATVs to get from their homes to the community aid stations, as well as deliver supplies to those who needed help in neighboring towns.
Mountain Mule Packer Ranch, based in North Carolina, was prepared for the hard to reach as they specialize in extreme terrain pack animal supply trains. Brandi Addison covered this story for the Asheville-Citizen Times. She writes,
“As Appalachian communities confront devastation, the mule stands out as an unsung hero. With each determined step, these resilient animals symbolize hope as they navigate through the rubble to assist those in need.”
Meeting the Needs of Neighbors
The immediate community of Leicester received minimal damage compared to most parts of the region. However, I saw Facebook posts of old friends stepping up to meet the enormous need across the mountains.
My high school friend, Lindsey Dimartino, has a successful local business called Asheville Charcuterie Co. Just two weeks before the hurricane, they opened their first brick and mortar in downtown, an area thankfully built on high ground and not touched by the storm’s destruction. Days later, Lindsey opened the doors to her business for the community. In a Facebook post, she wrote,
“Dear Asheville, we will do whatever it takes to take care of our community. We will be open tomorrow and be offering FREE bagged lunches and bottled waters … We still have power and invite anyone to come sit, have a drink and relax for a while amidst these terrible conditions. Our fridges are full and we are ready to serve you.”
Another friend from high school, Kendra Ferguson, announced to the community that her family’s well drilling company, Ferguson Well and Pump, was giving away free water. Most families and businesses who had wells were fortunate to have water. Everyone else lost their water supply for weeks. Kendra and her family provided water from their pump. They also dug community wells at churches for safe water access.
Immediately after the storm, all roads into the region were shut down. The earliest I could get there was six days later. I joined my parents in doing welfare checks on my dad’s elderly and vulnerable plumbing customers. At each visit, we ensured they had flushing and drinking water, food, and other necessities. My dad continued checking on his customers over the next several weeks and made sure their family members were aware of their well-being.
Compassion Pouring In
Mountain folks are known for being self-sufficient and can sometimes be leery of outsiders. But outside help was not only welcome but necessary. When resources in the community were maxed out, assistance came in to fill in the gaps.
My brother works for the power company and was on the frontlines restoring power to the area. The power outages were widespread with nearly a million in the dark. My brother texted on the day after the storm,
“I’ve got a bulldozer, 2 track hoes, a skid steer, 2 track machines, 20 tree guys, and about 150 linemen on my substation. At least 50 broken poles so far and we’ve barely gotten started.”
Crews poured into the community. Deployed from all over the country and even Canada, power companies came to support removing trees, repairing roads, and fixing and rebuilding infrastructure.
A famous YouTube personality, Cleetus McFarland, used his private helicopter to fly supplies and evacuate stranded people. Many hollers, mountainsides, and coves were inaccessible after the waters and landslides washed away roads and driveways. Cleetus was amazed by the community coming together in these circumstances. He shared,
“Everywhere we landed, there were kids from, I would say, 16 years old to like 80 years old, taking charge and being organized and making it happen. (They were really) stepping up to the plate. And I just couldn’t believe it. It was like nothing I’ve never seen before.”
Resiliency in Action
We spend a lot of time thinking about resiliency here at the Resilient Communities Center. As a team, we’ve identified six guiding principles of resiliency: spiritual formation, integration, transformation, incarnation, empowerment, and community. The collective response of the Southern Appalachians is a form of resiliency, particularly in how the community came together.
There is a lesson on the Community Principle in which we say that shalom is found in community. Shalom is a concept that portrays flourishing and wholeness in the context of relationships between God, humanity, and all of creation.
Clearly, relationships were not in a state of flourishing when Helene slammed my home community. However, what snippets of shalom are evident as we reflect on the communal response to this disaster? From what I’ve witnessed, it’s the way that people from within the region and all across North America met the urgent needs of “the least of these” (Matthew 25).
God’s presence was evident in church parking lots as groups provided meals for the hungry (I was hungry, and you fed me). It was evident in water bottles that were distributed on roadsides (I was thirsty, and you gave me something to drink). It was evident in strangers opening their homes to those who hadn’t showered in a week (I was a stranger, and you invited me in). It was evident as winter coats were given to families sleeping in tents because their homes were condemned (I needed clothes, and you clothed me). It was evident when helicopters flew in insulin to people unable to restock their supply (I was sick, and you looked after me). And it was evident in folks hiking for miles in rugged terrain to find people trapped on top of mountains (I was in prison, and you came to visit me).
Jesus is there in the mountains. He did not get washed away by the storm. Rather, his presence is displayed in every act of neighborly kindness and goodwill. The hope that I have for my beloved mountains is that God is still at work there. As people mourn and rebuild and somehow “get back to normal,” they will always remember the ways they were loved. I believe that this story will ring louder than the tales of destruction. When the generations to come ask what the Storm of Helene was like, we will say that it was a time when we loved one another. We will say that this land of resiliency rose above the tragedy together as Appalachian siblings.
A Call to Action
As the region continues to recover, there are still critical needs. And the beauty is, there is generosity everywhere. If you are wondering how you can contribute to the relief efforts, I have a few suggestions.
Pray: Here are prayers for communities impacted by natural disasters.
Donate: The best donation at this period in the relief effort is monetary donations. There are many local efforts taking donations. Here is one that is close to my heart.
Look for resiliency in your community. Celebrate the stories of resilience that emerge from your own corner of the world. By sharing these stories, we inspire hope and foster a sense of connection. And when disasters hit, pray that God would use you to be his hands and feet to bring comfort and healing.
Join Us
To learn more about the principles and practices of resilience, consider joining our next cohort. Together, we can build stronger, more resilient communities.
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