Everything looks crystal clear in hindsight, but on Wednesday night, all anyone heard was, “It’s going to rain a lot.” Daniel and I were traveling back from Colorado, and he was starting to get anxious. “It’s going to rain 15 inches,” he told me during a layover in Denver. I responded with expletives, remarking that we’d both surely have to deal with something at our respective homes. In hindsight, that was a petty thought.
I called Amie and told her to stock up on whatever she could, but several of my friends were confused when I told them to gas up their vehicles and batten down the hatches. It’s clear now that few were prepared for what was about to happen. I spent Thursday ironing out lingering drainage issues and gathering extension cords. I charged every power bank, AA battery, laptop, drill battery, and old, cracked-up phone I could find. Fifteen inches is more rain than many cities receive in a year, so we were sure to lose power. By 2 a.m. the next morning, we indeed had no power, no cell service, and no contact with the outside world. We plugged our Starlink into my truck, reconnected to the world, and stared at the pictures and video with our mouths agape.
The towns of Lake Lure and Chimney Rock, to name a few, effectively didn’t exist anymore. Entire neighborhoods had been washed away. Amie and I watched it all on the news, connected to Starlink, with our children playing in the living room. We had a huge battery bank (my Ford Lightning) keeping two refrigerators and all our electronics running 24/7. The disparity between our outcome and that of so many others was not lost on us. We didn’t hear from several of our friends until three days after the storm, only to discover they had left town with not much left to stick around for.
The fact that we got power back on Sunday night was dumb luck. As it turns out, my unimportant neighborhood has some high priority power lines running through it.
Needless to say, this video is not a cinematic masterpiece, nor is this text a literary one. This video will be posted to YouTube this afternoon for reasons that should be obvious. I wanted to get something together ASAP to let you know what’s happening, direct viewers to where they can donate, and set the stage for future trail recovery efforts. We haven’t heard much about Chestnut Mountain and Berm Park yet, but we can be sure they’re in rough shape.
Thank you all for your patience. Daniel hasn’t had reception in several days and is coming by today with his family to take showers and use the Internet. It was only recently that he could even get out of his neighborhood. Others are much worse off.
I know for certain that many of you have been affected by Helene. Stay safe, take care of your loved ones, and if you have been paying for this monthly, email us to switch to a free membership for the time being. You shouldn’t be paying for this right now.
As for the Alvo family, Amie and the kids are preparing to leave town tomorrow. With a 15 month old who tends to be allergic to things, Asheville is not the place to be. I’ll remain here for the time being to clean up, keep my people busy, and ensure we don’t get robbed. It’s time to get back to work.
Hurricane Helene - We're Fine, But Others Are Not.