Before the storm

I've taken a handful of trips in recent years to the mountain regions of eastern Tennessee and western North Carolina. What began as curiosity about somewhere new evolved into something more profound – a real affection for these Appalachian communities and their distinctive cadence.

The latest visit came in mid-September, just a few weeks ago. In this region, it's the kaleidoscopic interval between seasons, when the days give off summer warmth and the nights snatch it right back. For those who spend much of their time in a tropical climate, even the hints of morning chill on a mountain trail go a long way.

The Frog Level district in Waynesville, North Carolina (population 10,307) is the kind of neighborhood that habitually reels me in, with weathered industrial buildings reborn in a commercial quilt of small businesses, craft shops, watering holes, warehouses, and community spirit. Existing infrastructure repurposed in a mixed-use, locally grounded way cultivates growth, and it is wildly preferable to the cultural anesthesia of the American strip mall.

After a sandwich and cup of dark roast at Panacea Coffee on Commerce Street, I took a photo just up the road, at the intersection with Depot Street.

Eight days later, from what now was a few hundred miles away, came awful video of that same intersection crushed by the floodwaters of Richland Creek, unable to fight off the malevolence of Hurricane Helene.

In the aftermath, it appears Waynesville fared better than some towns in the area. But a majority of western North Carolina – and the southern Appalachian region broadly – has been impacted in one way or another.

The country has rallied to provide aid, as it does, with measures of prayer, supplies, and logistical support that are sufficient for some and inadequate for others. Recovery is a long-distance race, and we'll see how the promises of assistance hold up as attention fades over time.

Out of disaster, too, emerges the heroism of our neighbors, volunteering to run in while everyone else is running out, exemplifying the grace found in purpose through service.

Defining characteristics of towns like these, qualities like resilience and affinity, will continue to show up as their people rebuild. They will work hard and they will look out for each other. The days may be rough and tragic but if there is a job to do, they will do it.

In places like Waynesville – and in others like Chimney Rock and Burnsville, Little Switzerland and Black Mountain – the sturdiness of spirit and sense of community just holds its breath when the waters rise. It never washes away.