I Lived in a Town Immune From Natural Disasters – Until It Wasn’t

My wife, my college-age son, our dog, Smokey, and I huddled together and began to take stock of our supplies. We had no running water, electricity or cell service. What we did have: six gallons of fresh water, a generator (I had never had to use before) to power the refrigerator, and a couple of gallons of gasoline to run it (not good), a few flashlights, an old water filter I had last used 25 years ago while in western Africa, a stocked fridge and freezer (for a few days) and pantry.  

The ensuing days were an adventure — some good, some bad. It reminded my wife and me of our experience in Ghana when we in our 30s and excited about roughing it — the difference being that in Africa we went with the expectation of not having electricity or regular running water. We enjoyed the daily tribulations of cooking on an outdoor stove and not having refrigeration or air-conditioning. After only a few days of similar conditions in post-Helene Asheville I realized that time has made me a bit less adaptable to losing the creature comforts.

Eventually we found circuitous paths through the woods and were able to connect with our neighbors. We discovered that if we climbed 45 minutes to the top of our mountain, we could get a cell signal on our phone — our lifeline to the outside world.

Information came in bits and pieces. What we did find out was that help was not imminent in our neighborhood and that downtown Asheville had been ravaged by a “thousand-year flood.”

Along with neighbors, I attempted to climb over the fallen trees to get to the end of our road. We scrambled over fallen trees, got tangled in vines and pushed our way through dense foliage. On the other side of each fallen tree was yet another with no end in sight. After two hours of meager progress, we turned back. We had only managed to cover about 100 yards of what in normal times was a paved road.

Early on the first day after the storm had cleared, my neighbor and I, both doctors, were summoned by a frantic young lady whose husband had been crushed by his carport when a tree fell on it. After a 30-minute climb up the side of the mountain we managed to reach their house. He had severe back pain, and we were concerned he might have injured his vertebra. We took turns monitoring him and supporting his family. A neighbor trying to get emergency medical help for him was told that there were more than 5,000 emergency calls on the books and that outside help was unlikely.  

Clearly in it for the long haul, the neighbors shared food, gathered water from a creek and entertained young kids. Those who were able began hacking at the downed vegetation with chain saws in hopes of carving a path out. After five days of chainsawing, we were freed. Only after taking up residence with family living an hour outside Asheville did we have access to the news coverage. Our experience had been a challenge; for others, it was harrowing and sometimes fatal. Sadly, Asheville will take a long while to recover.

What did I learn? No place is immune from natural disaster. Be prepared. I used to make fun of preppers, but no more. I will now have spare batteries, gasoline, fresh water, dried goods, at least a week of vital medications and an emergency aid kit on hand. 

Last, know your neighbors. As we get older, we often become more isolated, but having relationships nearby is critical. When times get tough, it is this bond that will help everyone make it through.

The evening before the hurricane hit, my wife and I sat with friends, drinking wine and sharing a good meal. We had spoken of the impending tropical storm which was predicted to strengthen into a hurricane that evening. It never occurred to us that we would be affected.