Mount Pleasant Magazine Nov/Dec 2024

49 www.ReadMPM.com | www.MountPleasantMagazine.com | www.MountPleasantPodcast.com Sept. 27. It was my father’s birthday. He was in the Lowcountry visiting. My siblings were in Asheville where we’re all from; where they still live. They had plans to wait out the storm, then drive down to celebrate. And why wouldn’t they? That’s how it had always gone. Our mountain town is over 2,000 feet above sea level and almost 300 miles to shore. If a hurricane ever affected us, it was only a storm. It would have no organized eye and would have already dumped most of its water. A few trees might fall. It might flood a little. We’d chainsaw whatever had blocked the road and go on with the day. However, Hurricane Helene taught us that anything is possible. We woke in Summerville the next day with no power and some limbs down — no big deal. However, when we pulled up Facebook for morning scrolls, we discovered it was dotted with frantic posts from people who couldn’t reach Asheville relatives. They’d heard reports of landslides and severe flooding. News outlets said all communication had failed and entire towns had been wiped off the map. They said all roads to Asheville were impassable, leaving it a ghostly mountain island. Things were bad. My brother was in one of the least impacted areas outside town. He drove miles through debris and back routes to get cell service. He was the only person we heard from for days. We eventually connected with everyone else. Our cousin waded through waist-deep water for 5 miles to safety, passing through those who didn’t make it — some with their very clothes ripped from their bodies — on her way out. My mother was stranded in a hotel without food, power or water for 48 hours. Her vehicle was washed onto railroad tracks, smashed in debris. My inlaws counted 19 trees down, two fallen on their vehicles. My high school teacher was missing and a peer from the class below me still is today. Many people I know lost homes and businesses. My homeland had been devastated. After a couple days, I received messages from friends and family — people who would never ask for help — desperate for water, baby formula or a few snacks. They asked if we could check on people they couldn’t find. All I knew was that we had resources and they didn’t. My husband and I started to collect supplies to send back. My friends and neighbors left mountains of food, formula, water, toilet paper and clothing at my husband’s place of business. We were soon overwhelmed. As I was trying to sort things for individuals while learning about how to move the rest, my friend from Junior Service League of Summerville, Heidi Gordon, called and said, “I just left Katie The Unfathomable Flood Hearts open for Hurricane Helene relief BY LORNA HOLLIFIELD our town Cars washed away days after flooding near Ingles’ warehouse in Swannanoa, N.C. Photo provided by Jennifer Hensley. An uprooted tree in north Asheville. Photo by Haley Stewart.

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