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Editor’s note: The following is an account of living in Mitchell County after Hurricane Helene swept through western North Carolina on September 27, 2024. The author originally shared these updates via social media and they are republished here with the author’s permission.
Sunday, Sept. 29
Finally found a little service while we were out looking for supplies. Thank you to co-workers and colleagues for checking in.
Wanted to post a mass update as we won’t have power or signal or water for the foreseeable future.
My family is safe. Our town is decimated. We will spend months unburying our cars and homes and livelihoods.
We’ve hiked in to check on our family members and are keeping close tabs on those with need for medical refrigeration or power to charge medical devices.
We are enduring, and I couldn’t be more thankful for our community.
Our neighbors are joining together for meals as our fridges and freezers lose steam. The kids are all having a blast building forts together in the yard and staying up by candlelight to read Shel Silverstein poems. The stories of kindness already stretch further than the time I have to share.
God is good. That’s the short version.
Wednesday, Oct. 2
Day 6 without power, water, or cell signal — unless you go to the top of the parkway along with a thousand of your closest friends, which is honestly kind of nice. I do love to see your kind messages come in each morning when we make the trek to connect with civilization.
These days feel so strange and hold so much.
It’s hard to comprehend the level of absolute loss and sorrow. Loss of income will be beyond significant for so many families and small business owners. In a place where there is already a housing shortage and inflated prices due to out of town purchases, some people will be without a place to call home for months upon months.
And, my tech friends — Spruce Pine is the hub for pure quartz that exists in almost every microprocessor in the world. Our mines power your phones, computers, and more. Many of those mines are likely inaccessible right now. I’m hearing NPR has covered this in a recent article.
Somehow in all of this chaos, there are corners of our hearts that are still full (and exhausted) with the sweet goodness of friendships and kindhearted strangers. We’ve personally received supplies from friends all the way in Knoxville, Wilmington, and Florida. We’ve had offers of support that stretch all up and down the east coast and over to the Midwest and even California. The number of living rooms with a couch reserved for the Lannings right now would bring any woman to tears.
These days feel so strange and hold so much.
Watching the girls joyfully hand wash clothes and hang them on the makeshift line yesterday while National Guard helicopters buzzed overhead by the dozen was… surreal.
Tonight, we’ll sing “Peace” together and play cards and read books by candlelight until the darkness overtakes us, then try to find rest for the full day of work ahead — that part is probably the hardest.
In my mind I keep repeating:
“How much good inside a day?
Depends how good you live ‘em.”– Shel Silverstein
Friday, Oct. 4
We’re on Day 8. Though we’re basically still living off grid and facing months of clean up, we are the lucky ones. As the waters recede and rescue teams make it back into all the hollers, the loss of not only property, but lives, is staggering.
The church I grew up in is serving as a hub for anyone in need to pick up supplies. They are also serving meals to community members, first responders, and volunteers, as well as going out into the communities to try and reach those without access out to main roads. The elderly population is an enormous concern.
Here is a picture of “my” coffee shop in its current state. Where I spend most all my working hours. I went down on Wednesday to help shovel out mud and debris from the 8 feet of river water that destroyed the whole street.
There’s no way we could have anticipated the impact of this storm. It’s like expecting people in Idaho to be prepared for a tsunami. But mountain folks are nothing if not tough and resilient. Thanks for your continued support. Please keep sharing and talking about the small towns.
Sunday, Oct. 6
Day 10: Thank you to everyone that has donated to help support my community.
This morning, we’re watching dozens of veterans from all across the country coordinate search and rescue efforts out of an Inn parking lot. The stories we are hearing from more remote areas are gut-wrenching.
Right now in the local towns, we have tons of physical supplies flooding in, but we’re facing constant obstacles in reliable communication to determine who needs what and where.
Additionally, some people are still struggling to contact family, submit FEMA support requests, file claims, access bills, work, and other basic tasks that require any level of access to mass communication.
With the donations from friends and coworkers, my family has purchased a Starlink satellite internet unit to support friends and neighbors. These are becoming increasingly hard to come by, but we were able to secure one over five hours away in Nashville. A friend will be driving it over this week! Wish us luck in setup and use!
