Before the storm

I've taken a handful of trips in recent years to the mountain towns of eastern Tennessee and western North Carolina. What began as a curiosity for new places evolved into something more profound, something that feels – unexpectedly, and for no logical reason – like a sense of belonging.

The latest visit was in mid-September, just a few weeks ago. It's a time of kaleidoscopic transition for the seasons, with the days giving summer warmth and the nights snatching it right back. The variance is refreshing. For those from tropical climates, even the hint of morning chill on a mountain trail goes a long way.

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

After a cup and a bite at Panacea on Commerce Street, I snapped a picture just up the block, at the intersection of Depot Street.

Eight days later, and now a few hundred miles away, I came across 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 the cause, as it does, with measures of prayer, supplies, and logistics that are sufficient for some and inadequate for others. Recovery is a long-distance race, and we'll see how promises hold up as attention fades over time.

Thankfully, disaster often summons the intrinsic heroism of our neighbors, who volunteer 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 show up again and again as their people rebuild. They will work hard and they will look out for each other. The days may be rough and overwhelming but if there is a job to do, they will do it.

You don't have to spend much time in places like Waynesville – or in others like Chimney Rock and Burnsville, or Spruce Pine and Black Mountain – to know that the underlying spirit, faith, and sense of community just holds its breath when the waters rise. There's no river strong enough to wash those things away.