Thursday night, September 26^th, the remains of Hurricane Helene came roaring across the mountains of western North Carolina, bringing 20+ inches of rain and winds over 50 m.p.h. with it. By the following night, all 25 counties in our region were disaster zones. Yancey County, which is located right next to us here in Mitchell County, was the big “winner” statewide with just a touch under 30 inches of rain. Folks, if I was history’s greatest writer, I still wouldn’t have the vocabulary or the ability to adequately describe the decimation in these parts.

Here in Mitchell County, literally thousands of trees were either uprooted, snapped off at the top, or blown down altogether, and apparently 90% percent of them found a power line to take down with them. Just as apparently, the other 10% found houses to use as landing zones. Duke Energy says their plan is to have all power restored everywhere by this Friday. More realistically, people are saying it might take several weeks.

As bad as the power situation has been, though, the floodwaters from all the creeks and rivers have done even more damage. They are the reason for the loss of homes, businesses, roads, bridges, and (worst of all) lives. I have no idea what the final death toll will be for the 25 counties, but 160 fatalities are already being attributed to the storm, and hundreds of people are still missing, many of whom are presumed dead. For example, as of Monday morning, there were 600 people missing in Buncombe County alone. Needless to say, the funeral homes are already overwhelmed and that problem will only get worse.

The house where Tonya and I live is located in the heart of the little town of Spruce Pine, and the extent of the damage to our house amounted to just some water in the basement. The actual town itself, however, didn’t fare so well. Much of the town is located on the Toe River, and the Toe River came calling in a catastrophic way. At the water’s highest crest, about all that could be seen of our local Ingles supermarket was the roof and the top of the sign in the parking lot. The parking lot itself looked like a site where a bass-fishing tournament could be held.

The restaurants, shops, and businesses that called lower-street Spruce Pine their home felt the wrath of a water level that reached at least three-fourths up their storefront windows. The town’s historic, wooden, walking bridge is now historic in the most literal of senses due to the fact that its remains are currently lying in the river. The riverside area’s walkway, playground, and ballfield are also lost to history. Just as the waters rose to the top of the Ingles sign, they rose to the top of the ballfield’s right-field scoreboard. It would have taken scuba divers to find the dugouts.

Things weren’t any better in the nearby town of Bakersville, the town where Tonya and I grew up and where Tonya’s mom, Jessie, still lives. Cane Creek runs through the heart of Bakersville and this time the creek took the opportunity to stab the town in the heart. The main road through the town now has a sinkhole-type crater right in the middle of it where pavement used to be, and they are still trying to find the rest of the road under all the mud. Businesses are in full clean-up mode, but right now it doesn’t look like there will be any salvaging of the building in which the town’s “historic” (there’s that word again) restaurant resides. As for Jessie, she was evacuated early Friday morning but was back home by Friday afternoon at her own insistence. She isn’t worried about the layer of thick mud that is now calling itself her yard. Fortunately for her, the water didn’t get high enough to come over her porch and into her house.

Roan Mountain Baptist Church, the church where I serve as pastor, sits a couple of miles up the road from Bakersville, and Cane Creek did a number on the church building as well. Our parking lot and sanctuary were spared, but the building’s lower half, which houses our Sunday School classrooms, nursery, and storage rooms got flooded. One of our members told me that she watched as the creek waters rose halfway up the outside door that serves as the entrance into that lower half of the building. So, I don’t know when we’ll have church again. Frankly, I don’t know when most of the churches in our area will have church again.

Even if the building of Roan Mountain Baptist Church hadn’t received any damage, many of our church members (who are the true church) are currently dealing with roads that are washed out, driveways that are almost impassable, and bridges that are either unusable or gone altogether. Also, like everybody else in the county, they don’t have any power and are just trying to survive as best they can until the lights come back on again. What all this means is that church attendance isn’t exactly anybody’s top priority right now.

What our lives have become since Thursday night consists of carrying water from the local creek or river to use to flush the toilets, using gas grills (if you are fortunate enough to have that option) to cook up anything cookable from our darkened refrigerators and freezers, and talking to anybody you see outdoors in order to ask them what roads are open, where gas can be found, and where a cell-phone signal be located.

From such talks, Tonya and I learned that a workable cell-phone signal could be pinged at a certain site on the outskirts of Spruce Pine. As you might imagine, that site has now become a constant scene for a gathering of locals. The roads from Spruce Pine into Tennessee as well as Bakersville into Tennessee have served as lifelines for many of us as we’ve made the treks to cities like Elizabethton and Johnson City to buy groceries, gas, generators, flashlights, batteries, etc. Some of us have also gotten hotel rooms just to have access to the internet and hot water.

Right now, Tonya and I are spending today and tomorrow in a hotel room in Johnson City, Tennessee. We drove over here to get cleaned up, do some laundry, and stock up on supplies. And while we’re here, I’m going to write some blog posts and load some sermons into my Audacity program to send out for my radio ministry. Hopefully, I can get enough work done to tide my ministry over for a while until the power and internet get restored at our place.

We have no idea when life will be back to any kind of normal in Mitchell County. Even when power is restored, the water treatment facility in Spruce Pine was completely flooded, which leaves open the question of how and when we’ll have city water again. But for now, my family and I are doing okay. We’re thanking God that we’re all safe, and we’re believing that God is going to bring great good out of all the bad that Helene left in her wake.

Deanne Criswell, the national Administrator of FEMA, landed in Asheville, NC, yesterday under orders from President Biden to remain on the ground in North Carolina until the situation has stabilized. Asheville is located about an hour’s drive from Spruce Pine. Yes, that’s the company my family and I are keeping these days. Anytime your general area becomes homebase for the national Administrator of FEMA, you must be in dire need of FEMA’s help. That describes the 25 counties of western North Carolina right now.  

I would tell you to pray for us all, but I really don’t know what requests you should make because the destruction and loss of life is just so utterly overwhelming. Considering the circumstances, I guess Romans 8:28 is as good a promise as any to claim in regards to the aftermath of Helene, so I’ll close this post by quoting that verse. As you read the verse, keep in mind that the word “all” means ALL and the word “good” means GOOD:

And we know that all things work together for good to those who love God, to those who are called according to His purpose. (Romans 8:28, N.K.J.V.)