Blessing in a Forbidding Disguise
Sitting on my parent’s screened-in porch on a beautiful fall day, the air is cool, the leaves are glimmering in the breeze. My cats love this space. They rush at the sound of the sliding glass door. I love being out here too, but lately it has been different. There is a constant sound of chainsaws gnawing through trees. The loud familiar cracking as compromised trunks and limbs are sent to the ground. When the grating whir of the machines gets close enough to claw through my ears and rattle my nerves, I decide to get the cats inside. This has happened at least once or twice a day in the past month. My cats are determined to stay outside, preparing their spots for a nap. Circling and kneading the cushions, they settle into individual balls with their ears flattened to their heads. They will endure the discomfort for the sake of fresh air but I can’t let them burst their eardrums. My family was very lucky to make it through the storm without any significant damage to our property and ourselves.
I moved to Asheville in January of this year. My family has been here a little longer. All except my middle sister who had been living on the West Coast for the past 28 years. She moved here in May. With all of us here now, we’re trying to figure out if we’re stuck or have been handed a blessing in a forbidding disguise.
Drawn by the dream of a new beginning in a laid back and cultured community. The River Arts District, hiking the National Forests and the charm of the surrounding small towns. It was the perfect combination of interests. Admittedly, I have been struggling a little bit. Feeling homesick for a job I actually liked and people I truly enjoyed. But Asheville had so much to offer it made letting go of home less difficult.
Here in my parent’s house we were in the wind. On a normal day it flutters through the leaves without concern. Hurricane Helene was angry. She drew a deep breath from the bottom of her gut and lashed trees to the ground. Oak, pine and hickory were twisted and broken in half like pretzel sticks. Roots cracked as they were ripped apart. The sound made me run. That kind of weather makes a person feel small and helpless.Where will it land? Am I safe in the hallway? “Dad, get away from the window!!” Then the sun came up, the house was ok but the 75ft hickory tree fell into the neighbors yard and damaged their car. Nobody was hurt, thank goodness. The street was a mess but we could not safely walk and see to what degree. After a while we started hearing about the floods and the landslides. The truly horrible stories of people, kids, whole families being swept away. Driving around was not a good idea or possible until after a few days because of all the damage.
We had all developed a routine to survive without power and water. Buckets of water from lakes, community pools and hot tubs had to be used for flushing.I can’t even remember what water we used to cook. After a few days my sister and I decided to take a drive around, she needed to check on her job and find drinking water. Without internet and cell service we didn’t even know what kind of help was out there. Over wires, around fallen trees, past a small landslide people were pulled over on the side of the highway. The French Broad River had overtaken everything. It was officially said to have crested at 24.67’ in Asheville. It extended from its banks at least a city block’s width covering the road next to the highway. After a day or so the water receded and left behind shredded and tangled buildings, remnants of so many lives and dreams.
There was only so much that could be done at first but by the way things fell into place you could tell this community was chomping at the bit to help each other. Before all the damage was cataloged, Asheville was determined to make a comeback. So far I have volunteered a few times. I’m happy to do what I can even after I realize its minimal impact. Asheville has a big personality and gets a lot of attention, but there are countless smaller towns in Western North Carolina that have been completely devastated. Flattened by flooding and buried in mud. It’s been a little over a month and people are working hard to clean up but recovery will take possibly years.
I have questions about whether or not to stay. Trying to make that decision is a minor issue compared to what so many others are going through. Families are living in tents where their houses used to stand. I don’t personally know anyone who has suffered that level of devastation. I don’t even consider myself a people person, but is leaving abandoning people in their time of need? Is staying a show of support? I’m not sure. I’m going to do what I can to help and in six months I should know if this disaster can be turned into a gift.
