NEWS

I am often asked how Hurricane Helene recovery is going in and around Black Mountain. The answer is complicated. I look around and see many things that look nice, but they are vastly different than they once were. I routinely pass a mobile home that came to rest in a ditch that became a raging river. Did the family evacuate safely and where are they now?

Just down the street is the foundation of a home that was recently razed. A friend just recently moved into her renovated home that took a massive hit from the storm. Roads and bridges that were heavily damaged are slowly being repaved and repaired. It is steady and constant, but positive steps in recovery are happening everywhere.

We hosted a Cinco de Mayo party in May of last year. It was a huge hit. This is our self-appointed neighborhood social committee. (Left to right Nancy Vogt, Gatewood Campbell and Michelle Maloof).

Those are different types of recovery one can see, but there is another side of recovery that I believe is the most powerful in the aftermath of Helene. I have finally given myself permission to say aloud that my life is richer, joyful, and more meaningful after the storm. We live in a small neighborhood of 39 homes on three short private roads. Many people here are retired and lead very busy lives with their friends, hobbies, and so much more. Before Helene, we exchanged pleasantries at the mailbox, might wave when passing neighbors, or occasionally had a quick inconsequential conversation with neighbors.

The weekend before the storm, our neighborhood had our annual fall potluck, and I couldn’t tell you the names of anyone I talked to. Johnny and I sat beside a couple who had just moved into the neighborhood. He and Johnny chatted about golf, and I think I may have spoken to his wife. That was that. We patted ourselves on the back for pretending that we wanted to know the people around us.

When warnings that a strong hurricane was headed towards Western North Carolina, many of our neighbors on the lowest street near the creek, left before the storm. Some happened to be out of town on vacation and some of the part-time residents were elsewhere. The morning of September 27, when Helene moved on, everyone was outside surveying damage and sharing in the shock of the disaster. For the most part we walked around in a complete daze for 48 hours or so.

As our new reality began to set in, we realized the only way to survive was with each other. Johnny wheeled our small Aldi flat top grill to the front yard and offered to cook any food people had, since we knew it was all going to go bad soon. I still remember the pitiful attempts we made at “brewing” coffee with just water and coffee grounds. A couple days later a neighbor loaned us her French Press, and it radically changed our morning breakfasts. We still laugh about the horrible coffee and the magic of a French Press.

Johnny and I went reverse trick or treating on Halloween. We prepared little goodie bags with candy and silly toys to give to each neighbor instead of asking for candy. It was a real hit! Our neighbor, Marge Cross, came over before heading to a Halloween party. (Left to right, Johnny Campbell, Gatewood Campbell and Marge Cross).

For days, our neighbors gathered around our small grill and had breakfast, lunch, and dinner together. We savored every single bite of our bizarre meal combinations, and we began to bond on the most basic human level. We were all in exactly the same circumstance: no power, no water, and no cell service. When the things that keep us inside are gone, people go outside, conversations ensue, and people get to know each other. Helene quickly turned our neighborhood into a family.

Hurricane Helene roared through Western North Carolina 646 days ago, and for my husband and me, we are not ashamed to say we are grateful to have been here. Today, when I walk our streets, I know who lives in each home. I know where some of them lived before Black Mountain and I know what their careers are or were before retirement. I know the names of their pets, their children, and for some I even know where the kids and grandchildren live.

When we are outside, without fail, a neighbor passes by, and more often than not, a conversation of 5-25 minutes might happen. We talk about anything and everything because we genuinely know and care for each other. We no longer toss a hand up and wonder who the driver was. When we pass each other on the road, we stop, roll down the window, and catch up. Johnny and I sometimes take leftovers to some of the precious widows on our street. Inevitably, I’m asked to come in for a visit, and an hour later, I am headed back home. Johnny just shakes his head and laughs because he knows that our neighbors are our family; we genuinely love each other and find joy in being invested in each other. Our mountain house has become our home.

Prior to the storm, we lived inside our house and inside the privacy of the fence around our patio. After the storm, we live our lives outside of our house. We host quarterly themed gatherings with incredible food, games, prizes, and a lot of loud laughter. We often reminisce about those raw days after Helene, acknowledging that our community came out stronger. We are grateful to have experienced it with each other.

A few weeks after Hurricane Helene, I was passing through Swannanoa, a community that was wrecked beyond belief by Helene, heading back to a relief center in Black Mountain for a hot meal. I saw a sign that read “Jeremiah 29:11”, and I wept. Jeremiah 29:11 says, “For I know the plans I have for you, declares the Lord, plans to prosper you and not to harm you, plans to give you hope and a future.”

I sobbed an ugly cry and cried out to God, doubting how this storm was part of any plan and how in the world would good come from this? I was driving through a community that was literally flattened and there was no way any of us could have hope for the future. I doubted God and I was so angry that He had allowed this disaster to hit a place we love. That moment was pivotal in my life, because once I questioned God, He stepped in and began to prove to me that He would prosper me, protect me, give me hope and a richer future, in the midst of the storm.

For me, Hurricane Helene changed my life for the better. It has taken me a long time to be able to say that aloud, knowing others are still suffering immensely, but I understand recovery happens on a spectrum. As physical recovery is actively happening around me, I willingly admit that my personal and emotional Helene recovery has led to a richer and more genuine life.

In the days after the storm, I was discouraged, angry, and confused. Almost two years later, my personal Helene recovery continues to evolve, and I remain thankful for the blessing to have been here in the midst of the chaos.

Neighbors joined us to celebrate the 2026 Olympics with an International appetizer themed party. Johnny led a heated game of international cuisine questions.