President's Note
But it did.
We all awoke on Sept. 27 to mass devastation: ruined homes, wrecked cars, downed trees, rocks everywhere, and gooey piles of mud. It hit Gerton hard, but it nearly crushed Bat Cave, Chimney Rock, and Lake Lure.
What we discovered was what a great community we have in the face of tragedy. Helping each other. People coming from other places to help us. It reminded us of the innate goodness and connection we all have.
There is a long road ahead for the Upper Hickory Nut Gorge Community Center. We are unsure of our building’s future. Cleanup is still happening all over the area. We might meet in another space for potluck dinners, and our gatherings might look different in the near future.
But even this crisis will not end our story. We will survive. After all, the most important word in “community center” is not “center,” but community.
Chuck Mallory, President, UHNGCC
Before the Storm...
Thanks from the Bancers:
GertonFest XIII on Labor Day Saturday
UHNGCC Receives Grant from Cannon Foundation
The Upper Hickory Nut Gorge Community Club proudly announces the receipt of a grant from The Cannon Foundation in the amount of $21,000. This grant will be used to support roof repair of the building, which serves as the primary location for gatherings in the Gerton Community. Ellen Boyle, Marcia Ghidina and Karen Owensby completed the grant application.
The Cannon Foundation, established in 1943 by Charles A. Cannon, focuses on support for human services, higher education, healthcare and community across Mr. Cannon's home state of North Carolina.
UHNGCC is extremely grateful to The Cannon Foundation for this generous grant.
September Dinner and Program
And THEN!
From the Point of View of Hickory Nut Forest
Jim and I moved to Gerton just last May. We had attended and thoroughly enjoyed several of the community pot lucks and were just starting to get to know a few of our new neighbors when Helene hit.
We were some of the fortunate ones. We are so sorry for those who lost their homes, possessions, vehicles, and of course the tragic loss of life. Our house sustained only minor damage from a tree grazing our deck and roof. Because we had heard about all the frequent power outages in our neighborhood of Hickory Nut Forest, we had solar power with a battery power wall for back up power installed when the house was built. And because of the sunny weather the entire time the grid was out after Helene, we never lost complete power. Of course, like everyone else, we were stranded due to landslides and the bottom of our HOA road being washed out. And like everyone else, no phone service.
We were able to get out on foot right away and by car after five days. That was thanks to the many wonderful volunteers and the Gerton Fire Department who cleared the landslides and temporarily fixed the bottom of our road. Many of our neighbors had a back up system as well, but many had gas generators and fuel was hard to come by. So our house became a place for some to keep food cold, get water and a gathering point for a few group meals. That was one of the two upsides to the Hurricane. We got to know our new neighbors better. Everyone helped each other out, shared resources and lifted each other's spirits as much as possible. After 16 days, power was restored to Hickory Nut Forest. Internet was restored after four weeks. The second upside is with all the trees down we now have a nicer view. The sunrises have been magnificent.
Despite everything, we are so thankful to have moved here. We love Gerton and the community here! We can’t wait for the monthly pot lucks to resume and to get to know even more of you! Thank you to the board of the Hickory Nut Gorge Community Center for all you do.
View from the Neighborhood: Jesse Owenby Road
Just remembering the days following Hurricane Helene brings back an energy of heaviness and darkness. At the time, I had heavy feelings from seeing destruction of our trees, trails, and the homes of neighbors. An air of darkness hung over my thoughts, reinforced by nights in a house without power, illuminated only by candles or oil lamp. No internet or TV. I didn’t have an emergency radio. No phone service because the cell towers were down. Here’s what I remember of the first few days.
Around 2:30 a.m. on Friday, September 27, I awoke to the sound of wind howling around the house and rain drops battering windows on all sides of my bedroom. We had been warned about the storm. Jason Boyer, Channel 13 meteorologist, spoke of “unprecedented flooding.” I had no idea what that might mean, although I had seen the video, "Come Hell or High Water," at the Upper Hickory Nut Gorge Community Club on a Sunday afternoon in late March. The movie recounted the 1916 flood, which hit western North Carolina, devastating Gerton and the Hickory Nut Gorge. It was hard for me to imagine this type of flooding occurring again.
I went downstairs to check on the basement. Even though I live on a hill near the Eastern Continental Divide in the Upper Hickory Nut Gorge, I worried because of previous flooding during heavy rains. Each time this happened, I hired someone to “seal” the basement wall. Still I feared leaks. As I stood in the guest room, I saw water coming into the closet. At this hour, there was nothing I could do. The power was off, and I didn’t have a sump pump. So I went back to bed.
When I checked next morning, my worst fears were realized. Water had filled the closet and was flowing out into the basement. I began to move furniture and pick up boxes in the other rooms. I bailed water, dumping it out a window into the carport. And mopped up floors with old towels.
Nikki and Josh, my neighbors down the hill, came by with photos of our private road, showing new ruts and ditches washed out. They had a video of a gap, 15 to 20 feet deep, where the stream crossed under our road through a culvert. The culvert was gone. No way would a car be able to get out. Later, they reported that Bearwallow Mountain Road was impassable, blocked by multiple trees and mud debris, with a stream flowing down the middle. At this point, our missing bridge was only one of the barriers to getting out our road.
After drying out my basement as best I could, I inspected the grounds. While there were multiple trees down along the main road, I saw only smaller limbs in the yard and the top pieces of a fir tree resting in the driveway. I checked my next door neighbor Susan’s house and it seemed undamaged. (She had evacuated to her son’s home in town.) Our neighborhood of seven homes was fortunate because only one house had minor damage from trees. Our road and driveways suffered the most.
I began to wonder what was happening outside the neighborhood. I remembered some old trails through the woods. These foot trails should lead down into Gerton, bypassing the slides on Bearwallow Mountain Road, I thought. Mike, another neighbor, told me how to find these trails and where they came out. I put on hiking boots, grabbed a water bottle and pack, and set out. Picking my way through tree debris along the trail, I found the path down and popped out in the Sinclairs’ back yard, where Billy was trying to remove trees from their roof. I walked out onto the paved section of Bearwallow Mountain Road, which was missing sections of one lane in several places. I saw a group of folks I knew, who told me that Jay Alley, chief of Gerton Fire and Rescue, was holding daily updates at the firehouse. I walked down the road, astounded at the devastation, seeing a friend’s house missing its deck and kitchen wall, washed away by the tranquil stream turned dangerous. The entrance to Bearwallow Subdivision was completely gone, leaving a gaping abyss. My mind was overwhelmed by the power and magnitude of the water which came down our little stream.
I arrived at the firehouse after the main part of Jay’s update to find many of my friends. Some were in tears at the damage to our community and their own homes. We hugged. I asked about other friends. Was everyone okay? We grieved the damage to our beloved Community Club building, which lost the back deck and had water flowing under it. This was heart-wrenching since many community activities centered around it.
This is when I began to recognize the crucial role that Gerton Fire and Rescue played in protecting and supporting us through the ordeal. Not only had they sent out evacuation warnings on Thursday, but they were now working 24/7 to pull out folks who were trapped in Gerton, and surrounding communities like Bat Cave and Middle Fork Road. This day, the fire station had bottled water and a few supplies like MREs. I hadn’t understood how fortunate our community was to have our particular fire department. Not a single life was lost in Gerton during the storm.
Cell towers were down all over western North Carolina. Equipment at the fire station which would’ve supplied us with a mobile hot spot had failed. Most of us had no way to know what was happening outside Gerton, and no way to reach friends or loved ones. My young neighbor mentioned that if a cell phone had at least one bar, you could send texts. Bearwallow and Little Pisgah Mountains are visible from our neighborhood and each has cell towers. I decided to go up into Susan’s pasture and see if my phone could find a signal. Up on the hill, I was able to send and receive texts, but I couldn’t get a strong enough signal to call or check voice mail.
On Saturday, I hiked out to the meeting at the fire station to get the latest news. Jay Alley told us that he’d requested supplies and volunteers, which would be coming over the next few days. I hadn’t realized that the storm had isolated Gerton. Going towards Fairview, Highway 74A was closed by multiple slides, washouts, and trees. Heading down the gorge, multiple rock and debris slides blocked the way. The road was washed out beyond Bat Cave. While I was able to hike out of my neighborhood to get news and supplies, I knew some friends weren’t physically able to do this. Since I couldn’t get my car out, I began to consider renting a car in town for transporting supplies or people.
Bearwallow Mountain Road had experienced multiple slides and washouts past the paved area. It could only be traversed by scrambling and climbing over debris. A stream ran down it, which had to be crossed in several places. I wanted to hike up to check on my friends on McGuffey Ridge. I had realized that I could collect text messages from them for their families, to be sent out when I returned to the “hotspot” pasture on Jesse Owenby Road. I remembered an old hiking trail up from Little Bearwallow Subdivision to McGuffey Ridge which bypassed Bearwallow Mountain Road, so I set out from the fire station through the subdivision. Dodging tree falls along the trail, I made it up to the fork for McGuffey Ridge. It was washed out. So I continued on the main trail up Little Bearwallow Mountain. I came to a path on the left that led to Dave and Stan’s property, and I detoured this way. They had seventy large trees across their road in addition to washouts, so their vehicles were trapped. I knew they were okay because I’d seen them at the fire station, but I wanted to ask if they wanted any text messages sent out.
After Dave typed messages into my phone for their friends, I resumed my trek up the mountainside and through the woods, falling only once in a mud slide along Ridge Vista Road. Arriving on McGuffey Ridge, I talked with Bonnie about updates from the meeting. The fire department and volunteers were building a road for ATVs, running parallel to Bearwallow Mountain Road since no one knew when that road would be passable. I imagined myself to be a sort of town crier bringing news to neighbors. I visited the homes of friends on McGuffey Ridge, collecting their text messages to send out at the “hotspot” pasture. Days later, I learned a volunteer from the fire department lived there and was keeping tabs on them. However, on this day the FD volunteers were still busy rescuing trapped folks. We hadn’t yet gotten the influx of outside volunteers with their side-by-side vehicles to bring us news, water, and meals.
I’d decided to rent a car. The problem was I had no internet or way to call for information about rental cars. I went up to the “hotspot” pasture and texted my friend Carolyn in Texas. She is a smart, organized woman I’ve known most of my life. She was happy to help and soon found an affordable car at the Asheville airport to be picked up on Wednesday. I decided that I’d hike back to McGuffey Ridge and get grocery orders that I could fill when I was in town. Because no one we knew had been through this type of disaster, we didn’t know what to expect. The FD was telling us it might be “awhile” before we had electricity. We weren’t sure when we’d be able to get our cars out. I decided to prepare for a long siege of surviving in Gerton.
What I didn’t realize was the extent to which the Gerton Fire Department was taking care of us. Helicopters began flying in and out at all hours, delivering supplies. By the time I returned on Wednesday with my rental car loaded with food for myself and folks on McGuffey Ridge, the fire station had begun to fill up with food and water, along with other after-disaster supplies. Samaritan’s Purse began providing generators for some households, delivered by helicopter. Mennonite Disaster Services arrived to clear trees off houses and roadways. Once the roads were clear, small four-wheeled vehicles appeared bringing water, hot meals, and professionals doing wellness checks. The number of volunteers showing up was amazing. A group from Charlotte came up to my house with multiple ATVs, bringing chain saws. They offered water and snacks. Thinking they were a church group, I asked. A nice woman explained that they’d seen an ad on Facebook for volunteers. Later, in talking with one of the teenaged girls, I found that some of them were from a Beta Club. Once they’d cleared debris blocking our driveways, they offered to take garbage away to the dumpster and bring a hot meal back. I asked if they’d mind taking the stinky food left in my refrigerator after several days without electricity. Another neighbor and I had been procrastinating on cleaning out our refrigerators because we couldn’t face the prospect of backpacking out rotting food. These nice volunteers solved several of our problems: clearing the driveways and taking our garbage. They brought back a hot meal served at the fire station.
Word of our “hotspot” pasture spread and folks from other neighborhoods trekked up to use the signal. As cell towers were repaired, folks on McGuffey Ridge found a place where they could get cell signals. Now we could sometimes make phone calls early or late in the day. Gerton Fire and Rescue set up a mobile hotspot at the Continental Divide for the community. After two weeks, the power came back on for most of us.
Now in early December, cell towers are back on line. Most residents have internet in their homes again, but not all of us. It turns out that fiber optic cables don’t survive landslides and floods very well.
I want to express my gratitude to Gerton Fire and Rescue who supported our community in such a caring way throughout this disaster. Recently, the extent of their support was brought home to me when I went to have my hair cut at a friend’s house in Swannanoa. She lives in the Bee Tree Community which suffered tremendous losses. Her home is located two miles below the dam on the North Fork Reservoir, and near the Swannanoa River. She told me that she had no warning about needing to evacuate. She saved her car only because a neighbor noticed the rising water and knocked on her door. She drove her car out through standing water and up a steep hill, where she waited for two hours as the water rose and fell. Fifteen people in her community died. Her yard was used for search and rescue. She still looks numb.
If anything good came out of Hurricane Helene, it was our experience of coming together as a community. I saw examples of Gerton residents helping each other, volunteering for the benefit of the community. Our neighborhood on Jesse Owenby Road shared food, generator gas, and spring water. Once Bearwallow Road was open, neighbors helped clear trees creating a detour to get our cars out, thanks to the Boyers for letting us drive through their front yard. Other neighborhoods have similar stories. My ultimate heroes are members of Gerton Fire and Rescue—Jay Alley, Norris Lyda, and all the other volunteers, who had us covered and put our needs and safety first. I send my heartfelt thanks to them.
Gerton Fire and Rescue December Update
by Jay Alley, Chief, Gerton Fire and Rescue
Well, this has been a different year than anyone would have forecasted. On September 27, the world as we know it changed. Hurricane Helene came ashore and aimed all of her force at WNC. She left after an amazing 34 inches of rain and 80+ mph winds. I was out of town at a conference and couldn’t initially get home. I had been in contact with the station and our officers to determine what and when things needed to happen. The storm hit, and your firefighters did an outstanding job of trying to gain access to people and check on our residents. The pre-work that was performed saved many lives. Our firefighters and officers went door-to-door, asking people to evacuate their homes near the creek. This step was instrumental in allowing me to say that we lost no lives in our community. I was able to get into Gerton on Sunday morning, and I was overwhelmed by the devastation I found. Everyone knows there was no communication with anyone here, and I had no idea how bad it was until I arrived. Immediately, I went to the station, and we continued working on searching and rescuing people as needed. Once we had confirmed everyone in our district was okay, we began to determine how to best start to get a recovery going. We were able to get volunteers from across the United States to help. We had heavy equipment that was donated by operators from many different locations. These volunteers and equipment, alongside your firefighters, began to cut out roads and build roads where there were none to aid us in gaining access to everyone. By contacting outside resources, we were able to get a food truck and wash trailer here to help our folks to start recovery. The resources we received were from many faith-based organizations. Samaritan’s Purse was instrumental in bringing us supplies. They landed six Chinooks and seven Blackhawks in our district, delivering supplies. The outpouring of supplies and donations was overwhelming. We had so many supplies that we had to rent a warehouse in Fairview to store them.
While the station was damaged and in a state of repair, we continued operations. Our firefighters have been here working side by side with many outside volunteers. Our station responded to over 100 calls in the first two weeks of the storm. The missions we performed, such as the delivery of food to Middle Fork and Bat Cave, were handled daily. We were able to deliver supplies such as generators, heaters, fuel, and other items to our residents. We had some significant damage to our station and some of our trucks, but we continued to meet the needs of our community.
I will never be able to repay everyone for their kindness and support through all of this. The outpouring of love and donations has helped to keep us operational. The first two weeks of this storm were handled by your firefighters and volunteers. Later we did start to receive some state resources and they helped to ease the load off many of our exhausted people. I will try and put together a synopsis for the next Echo of what we actually were able to accomplish. This is still a very active and hectic time for the department. I want to thank everyone of you for your support and having faith in us to take care of you. I do want to invite everyone to our Christmas Lunch at the station on December 14 @ 11-2. We will have food and even Santa is coming to bring gifts to the children. Thank you for all of your support. Remember, we are GERTON STRONG!
A NEIGHBORHOOD'S POINT OF VIEW: McGuffey Ridge – a month like no other
by Bonnie Moore
Our newest resident on the hill, God bless him, (and I mean that sincerely) is a fireman, and he was the perfect man to get us ready. That Thursday night our very own fireman stopped by to see if we were good to go. I believe this man stopped at all the occupied houses; I know he stopped at mine, and I knew help was close if needed. With the light of day, wind and rain still screaming, another neighbor fit and decked out in yellow rain gear, pounded on the door to make himself heard. Another full-time neighbor checking on the people on the ridge. Because of the wind, I had not heard a single tree fall; most of them appeared to have been pushed over by a giant hand, but to see hundreds of fallen or leaning trees is something I never expected to see. Those two men started a procession of caring people making sure my friends and neighbors of this ridge were alive, uninjured, and accounted for. Three hours later another volunteer fireman came down the mountain as the rain stopped, checked again, and within an hour the sound of chainsaws filled the air as the two firemen began clearing the way out. Gerton firefighters and rescue squad did not wait--they began. I felt then and still feel such pride in the character of these men.
All of that was just the first morning. The neighbors began gathering every night for candlelit dinners. We discussed the world would never believe that part. People were sharing meat from their freezers, one or two had a bottle of wine and, have mercy, we had three of the best cooks in a 5-mile radius. Steaks, Salmon, Risotto: the food boggled my mind. The road access had us staying home, but we watched teams of chainsaw men do things and place “almost” downed trees right where they wanted so no one would be in danger. The team from Cherokee Springs, S.C., were phenomenal. Never pausing – it was about this time we realized people from all over knew we were here. Bearwallow Mountain Road was indescribable with mere words. The river, or creek had diverted itself and dug a grotto 50 feet long. Gerton Volunteer Fire Department and rescue team was swelling with men and women of all skills and expertise. They were clearing a new side road to get to us mountain people, Teams of 4-wheelers brought water bottles, and necessary supplies as the refrigerated food dwindled. I had a new appreciation for toilet paper, my personal favorite, for I never understood the Covid catastrophe and why it was always cleared off the shelves…until now.
The first weeks, my neighbors and I had been in an information black out. Every fireman that passed by was given a note and a name to call, if they could, to let our families know we were ok. We began to worry over our Gerton friends. Even later, weeks later, when we were able to get out we were not prepared for the devastation we saw: the roads, the culverts, the bridges, the parts of houses still standing, the parts of houses missing.
There is so much this neighborhood wants to tell you: a supplied generator stopped our having to carry water to flush commodes. We grieved when we learned of the damage some of our neighbors and friends suffered. The people on our ridge are more family now, rather than neighbors.
It is hard to write a short view of life-changing events. We want to hug people; we want to have breakfasts together. We want to invite you to church. We want to tell you of our heroes… I warn you: you will get tired of this one for the world is FILLED with unexpected HEROES.
I might add one more thing: McGuffey ridge did have a great history, but because of the people, we have an amazing future ahead of us as well.
Neighborhood View from Kelly Hill
by Steve Jones
I woke Friday morning (September 27) to the furious sounds of the wind and rain. Looking down at Charlotte Highway from the porch, I could see a giant river of flowing brown water. Is that possible? Putting on rain gear, I headed down the hill to see what was happening. On the way, I encountered my neighbors heading up the hill trying to escape the rising waters that were threatening their home. Soaked, with their two dogs in tow, they were looking for a safe place to be. Our neighbor gave them refuge, and I continued to the meadow, now looking like a big brown lake. Our bridge to the main road was toppled and a raging waterfall was pouring into the creek where it used to be. The Community Center appeared to have lost some of its foundation and was looking really different. I finally realized that the back concrete patio was completely washed away. I did not see anyone else that early morning and was full of concern for my friends and neighbors. It was hard to imagine how we could get across the creek which was now churning rapids. Thanks to the Gerton Fire Department and neighbors, we were quickly connected to our community.
Helene’s Impact on Chestnut Hills
by Lee Strickland
The extent of Helene’s terrible damage was not immediately visible when Dan and I got up on Friday, September 27. We had slept through the worst of it, which happened between 3 and 7 a.m., and no trees had fallen on our house or on any of the houses we could see from ours. But from my front porch, I could see that 74A, most of Chestnut Hills’ grassy “Commons” area, and the UHNG Community Center were surrounded and covered with water and mud. The shallow creek that meanders through the Commons had washed out, spreading across the grass and the highway and onto Kelly Hill Road, where their bridge was destroyed.
Mike Reandeau, who has mapped and babied our precious water system for the past several years, knocked on our door about 8 a.m. He was recruiting all able-bodied folks with chain saws to hike up Chestnut Hill Road toward what we call the springhouse access road to check on our wells and reservoirs, the heart of Chestnut Hill’s private water source. A group of residents were joined by several short-term renters who had failed to evacuate but were eager to help. The trail was impassable, and clearing the way, given the slippery mud and piles of trees, was not feasible. So the volunteers returned and looked for other blockades to untangle. By that time, power was off and water was not flowing from our taps.
Meanwhile, neighbors were standing, walking, hugging, gathering in groups and exchanging tears and information on that warm, sunny day after the storm. Communication was only by word of mouth, walking door-to-door to check on people, gathering information and passing it along. 74A in the direction of Asheville was blocked by a landslide behind Margaret Whitt’s house. The pile of rocks, trees and mud was impassable, and Margaret’s house appeared to be shakily perched at the top of her ridge. Rumor had it that the road going toward Bat Cave was out. Orange cones went up later that day, and we were hearing that destruction in that direction was severe. We realized we were trapped in the Gorge. We began to understand that there was no way down the mountain in either direction, no means of communication, no way to contact family and let them know we were okay. We had no idea when help would come, but we could see helicopters circling above us.
Most of that first day was spent walking around, discovering damage, running into people, and cutting away what trees we could. The spirit of helpfulness and innovation was remarkable. People found two spots where cell phones seemed to work a little: on a concrete platform at the top of Chestnut Hill Road behind Travis Waldron’s rental house and on the road beside Julia and Scott Pierce’s house in Hickory Nut Forest. By afternoon, pieces of tin and logs had been arranged over and through the mud slide behind Margaret’s house, allowing us to pick our way in single file through the mud, stepping from one tin sheet to the next, and then on toward the fire station where daily briefings were held at 1 p.m. There, we saw our neighbors from Bearwallow, Kelly Hill, Hickory Nut Forest, and other parts of Gerton. Nobody, including the fire fighters, knew much of anything about damage beyond Gerton, when we might expect help, or how other folks were doing. The lack of information was one of the most difficult and strange aspects of the whole disaster. No internet, no cellular, no power, and no way to travel in any direction.
The worst damage was on the northern end of Chestnut Hill. Ryan Deward’s home on the upper Chestnut Hill loop was completely destroyed. A mudslide ripped his house off its foundation and pushed it down toward the street. Ryan, along with his dog and cat, were inside at the time. He managed to crawl out but didn’t find his dog for hours or his cat for several days. His car was buried under the house.
Karen Owensby’s land and her family home built in 1951 by her grandfather was hit by three mudslides. One slide took out several acres on the north side of Karen’s house, including all of her gardens and landscaping. The large pond in front of her house was gone – nothing left but fallen trees, debris and mud. Water had breached the house, and for several days, Karen feared the house was going to slide off its foundation, but it stood firm, damage limited to a wet basement, mildew and mold. Though the house could be dried out and cleaned, the surrounding land was not easily repaired. Two months after the hurricane, excavators still work to move and smooth out piles of mud, fallen trees, and displaced stones. The Mennonite Disaster Relief group dug out Karen’s winding driveway, and Stan Mobley came from Bearwallow and got her truck and car out of the mud.
Melissa and David Steele at the end of Karen’s drive received the mud and water from Karen’s pond which buried their yard and seeped into their house. They found their propane tank floating in the Chestnut Hill pond. Next to the Deward home, Tom Buffkin suffered many downed trees and a slide behind his house which threw a tree onto his roof and collapsed his retaining wall in places. In front of Tom’s house and down the hill, Ben and Alicia Palmer’s retaining wall was pushed into the back of their house. The house was not breached, but the retaining wall had to be rebuilt. Eileen and Don Ferrell’s house, also on the north end of Chestnut Hill, was damaged by a fallen tree and required tree removal and extensive roof repair, all of which was accomplished by a variety of volunteers.
On Saturday, September 28, the team of renters and residents returned to the springhouse road and were able to cut a path to the top. Mike Reandeau isolated water going to the destroyed Deward house and restored a bit of water to some areas of Chestnut Hill. Over the next couple of days, Mike was able to make repairs to the water system, including removal of a large algae plum and cleaning of the filter as well as manipulating the valves to move the water where it needed to be. The system was damaged but minimally, and water was restored to all but the highest areas where the Ferrells and Margaret Whitt live.
Residents brought a few propane grills into a spot in front of Chuck Mallory and Jim Piene’s home, and we all gathered for dinners. Everyone brought what food they had – lots of meat about to thaw out. We had bottled water from the fire station and plenty of food. After a few days, the dinners were moved to our front porch. It was comforting to be together, and we exchanged tidbits and stories about Chestnut Hills and beyond. The blockade behind Margaret’s house was removed and people found we could drive (slowly) down the switchbacks. Food Lion was still closed and no gasoline was available. Nor was there any way to replace propane tanks.
Chestnut Hill Loop Road was still blocked beside Jim Earnhardt’s house until one night a group of volunteers who had driven over from Charlotte removed the tangle of trees and opened the road. The Mennonite Disaster Service volunteers were enormously helpful, unblocking Pond Lane and clearing the trees from the springhouse access road. They also cleared Karen’s drive.
On October 1, five days after the storm, we all stood in awe and joy as a Chinook helicopter hovered over the Commons, landing and unloading food and water. Residents lined up to toss water and food packages off the pallets and onto trucks. Helicopters returned two more times and we sustained some damage to one of our water lines. The weight of one large Army Chinook is over 24,000 pounds when empty. The damage was a small price to pay for the much needed help of the National Guard, and for supplies that went to the fire station for all to take as needed.
On October 10, we learned that our water supply was contaminated and instituted a boil order. This disappointment was mitigated by the power returning at 8 p.m. on October 12. Of course, we still had no internet and very poor cellular service, but we had light! Water contamination was cleared up by October 16 and water service was fully returned to all residents by November 11.
Through some tears and frustration, Chestnut Hill residents remained grateful, helping each other and “trauma-bonding.” Mike Reandeau and Chris Lacey worked tirelessly: fishing sticks and trees out of the pond until the water was clear, making repairs to the dam, cutting trees, supervising volunteers, and contributing equipment and tools. 90 percent of the work was done by residents, volunteers from other regions, and the Mennonites. The clean-up, which is still ongoing, has been a beautiful display of neighbor helping neighbor. Those who drove to Western North Carolina from as far away as New Jersey just to help out restored our faith and optimism. Though Helene was the largest disaster any of us had ever experienced, we have emerged more united, and more in love with our 100-year old community, Chestnut Hills.
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