Hurricane Helene
Me and Fajita enjoying Fall in the Blue Ridge Mountains
Heartbroken is how it feels to watch the city you love get crushed, a catastrophic storm leveling it with the wrath only a Cat 4 hurricane brings. From an RV park in Pamlico County, parked for the next month as we tend to the boat, we were safe and sound while fearing the worst for our friends and neighbors. The Jayco trailer is a little 100-square-foot metal box, claustrophobic at times, but a hurricane really puts into perspective how luxurious it can be to have all of your essential needs met.
The Thursday afternoon before Helene I spoke with a close friend. I got the update of rain fall and we casually chatted about what to expect of the incoming storm. It would blow through by Friday afternoon as all systems do that sweep through from the coast, here and gone and onto the next issue. Friday morning I woke up too early to call anyone. I started reading the local newspaper’s live feed. About every 30 minutes an update of trees on houses, roadways down, power outages and rising water levels. Worried, around 8:00 I started calling friends. No one was picking up. I texted neighbors, friends in Brevard, friends in Asheville, nothing. The ball in my stomach tightened into a rock. 9:30 was the last update from Transylvania Times, a mudslide report, then hours of nothing.
Slowly, video after video started pouring in of horrendous depictions. Asheville underwater, trees and destruction everywhere, roads completely washed away, a large swathe of Western North Carolina without water or power. A day went by without a word. I was still desperately sending texts, “Hi! Are you ok! Please text me back when you can, I love you!” We worked so diligently on the boat Friday and Saturday, busy hands steadying racing minds, but there was nothing to be done. Any control we think we have in this world is a mirage.
I got my first text Saturday midmorning, “We are ok, we drove 20 miles out for cell service.” Followed by news that other friends were also ok. Soon, I could account for the people I love in Brevard. It was a moment of relief. I would send more texts out to my Asheville friends. Hi, I hope you are ok, I love you. One by one over the next couple of days I could breathe easier, as friends checked in. Close friends and neighbors all still with us. Surviving together through this horrific event.
We will head up to Patrick’s house next week, Oct 13, to clear his property from trees. We were both extremely lucky, thankfully no trees fell onto his house. All I want to do is hug the necks of all the beautiful people I have come to know as family.
I am excited about this new adventure, but the mountains will always be my home base. That area of NC is my heart and soul. I ache to think of the losses felt. I know those who live there are compassionate, resilient, and creative. It will take many years to rebuild, but I have faith it will happen.
I hear them, I’ve heard them all my life, no maybe I feel them
Yes, I’ve felt them all my life
They pull me
Pull me into an embrace of fog and trees
Pull me into the comfort of their towering peaks
Slow my heart into a sense of peace, ground my feet in the mossy green
Their babbling creeks, they speak to me
On cool crisp mornings stinging breezes flush my cheeks
And as the sunlight glimmers through their fall colored leaves
I feel those mountains pull me home
