Post-Helene Asheville

September 30, 2024

And so I am writing now not to report on the conditions and culture of a remote, less-developed country, but rather from my own home in Asheville, North Carolina – a city to which many have been flocking, not only because of its food, beer, arts, and outdoor activity acclaim, but also as a purported climate refuge for folks from coastal areas. Perhaps not so much anymore!

Last week, I had been looking forward to a day of rain as an excuse to drive, rather than bike, to my job teaching English at A-B Tech Community College, to be able to take along my guitar and use it to sing songs with my students. I read the warnings about the coming storm, but thought that they were overblown, as usual. In my twelve years of living here, I haven’t seen hurricanes hitting the coast having much impact on us in the mountains. It just looked like we’d get a moderate amount of rain, and some wind. I read an email saying to fill tubs with water, but 1 didn’t understand why. My bathtub plugger doesn’t work well in any case, so I figured that storing water in that way wouldn’t work anyway. Shrug. Nothing I could do, so no use worrying.

What we didn’t count on was the flooding. Luckily not in my particular home, which is on a hill, but other homes and many businesses in the area are completely underwater or washed away.

Walking around my immediate neighborhood, we saw many trees toppled, and power lines hanging and damaged in multiple areas. Walking farther from the house, 1.5-2 miles away, we saw real devastation. The French Broad River had swelled so high that when we looked from the bridge I normally bike over toward downtown toward a beloved local outdoors stole that sold used clothing (where I would normally go in a situation like this to get fuel for my backpacking stove), all we could see was the roof. In the other direction, a favorite independent movie house was also completely underwater. All kinds of debris was bobbing and churning down the river as it gushed under the bridge, including chairs, building materials, and a cradle. That area is known as the River Arts District, and I hear that many local artists have lost their lite’s work in addition to their studio space as a result of the disaster. There are two emergency shelters set up at A-B Tech now, and the website says that the college is now closed “until further notice.” With the latest estimates on restoration of water service to our area at weeks at the earliest. I am wondering if we are eveng going to be able to resume at all this semester!

Daily life has been completely upended, with most activities, as it was for me much of my first year at my rural site in Togo, geared toward survival. I figured there’d be hot water still in my large water heater tank, but when I turned on the hot water tap in the bathroom after two days of no shower to do some quick, water-conserving splashing and a rinse, there was only an empty hissing noise. I remember working with limited water in Togo, conserving every drop from dish and hand washing to flush my toilet. It’s like that here now, with June asking yesterday, “Why are there green things floating in the toilet?” and my reminding her that it was bits of cilantro (one thing that hadn’t gone bad yet from the fridge) off of the cutting board, then transferred upstairs to the bathroom toilet bowl to lessen the stink. While I do have some rain water from the roof from buckets I have set out in a couple of places where my gutters are broken, I also got out my composting toilet that I’d been experimenting with using some years ago; I’m really glad that I have that now, along with a couple of large sacks of pine needles that I’d collected from a neighbor’s driveway to use in that toilet to cover the deposits.

Thanks to my emergency battery-powered radio (also a takeaway from my time in Togo in 2009-11), I can hear emergency updates. Today, they are talking about food and water distribution sites, the locations of which they did not reveal ahead of time to avoid people coming and crowding and making huge lines. It seems like they do have water they are distributing, but no food yet. Another development – an exciting announcement for some, no doubt — is that they have now installed port-a-potties at Pack Square Park that people can use.

Besides lack of water, the lack of cell service has really made this disaster remarkable and difficult, as almost no one has land lines anymore, and I, like most people, depend on my phone to conduct so much of daily life. Over the weekend, there was a rumor that there was some Internet or cell access at the fire stations, so we went over there trying to connect, and while certain people were able to, I, like many others, was not. June and I did walk down to our closer fire station early Sunday morning and were able to connect then, I think just because people were not online at that time. Last night, I wasn’t able to sleep well, in part worrying about the extent and probable duration of the water access problem here, but lucked out in that, in the middle of the night, my phone was miraculously connected and I was able to send and receive text messages and look up information like the phone number of my pharmacy and medical office, and also see the notice on the YMCA site, which I’d been hoping to bike to in the morning to be able to shower there, that all of their branches are closed until further notice.

There are bulletin boards set up at the fire stations with community information, road closures and emergency numbers, and tips on places to go for cell service, food, and water. On Saturday, one of the signs, titled “Frequently Asked Questions,” stated. “Is there any way into or out of Asheville? (Answer:) No, there is currently no way into or out of Buncombe county and the surrounding areas.” Soon after that, we heard that there was one way out, via I-26 southward toward South Carolina

Containers to hold and store water – differentiated into drinkable, hand-washing-usable, and flushable vareties – have become key. “Is there ice?” I found myself asking several times over the past few days, wondering if I could procure any at the local, walking-distance supermarkets. with which to keep my tridge and freezer food items from spoiling. There wasn’t any. Or maybe some got it. but there were hours-long lines at the nearby Ingles, and I did not feel desperate enough to wait there to see.

Charcoal has become important, too, for grilling on my miniature grill in the backyard. My backpacking stove, very thankful for that. And for the oil lamp and oil that I had stored in the basement, along with some bottles of emergency drinking water. I do regret my decisions last week not to get gas and not to refill my medical prescription when they were getting low. “Calm, don’t be anxious – you can get them next week!” I told myself. Now, clearly, a mistake. No one could have anticipated the extent of this; two days ago on the radio an official described it not as catastrophic, but “Biblical” in the scope of the disaster.

There have been cars lining up at gas stations, with some people using gas for their generators, and others probably looking to head out of town. I saw police stationed at the Shell near us this morning; my neighbor told me that at another gas station on Hendersonville Rd. this morning, someone started shooting. The radio also reports of looting; I can believe it. There is an air of desperation; people dirty, some without food and water, some unable to pay for anything because gas stations and some supermarkets are taking cash only. And who carries cash in this day and age?

On Saturday, I tried to save my turning gallon of milk by making yogurt out of it, but it didn’t quite work. I was able to use the semi-yogurted milk, along with the mostly-thawed frozen fruit, to mash up a semi-smooth smoothie using another item that has suddently risen to the spotlight: the potato masher! I have also used the potato masher, which normally only gets use once or twice a year, to mash up a bowl of lumpy hummus using quickly-warming tahini and lemon from the fridge, along with a can of chickpeas.

While June and I were sitting outside on the wall of the fire station yesterday morning, hoping to get Internet, a car pulled up and a woman jumped out, looking for help for her friend, whose head was clearly injured (I imagined from a falling tree limb). She clearly needed medical care, but no fire staff were around – out on other calls. There have been frequent sounds of distant sirens these past days, and a fair number of helicopters in the sky, including one today that I’d never seen the likes of that appeared to be in an L-shape and have two sets of propgilers. The hospital and other normal medical care places must have either been overloaded or blosed.

As we walked down Haywood Rd. yesterday. I kept noticing what people were carrying. Some had braved the hours-long line at the ingles grocery and come away with seltzer water, bread and chips. Others are toting gas cans, looking for fuel for their generators.

Luckily, we were able to get non-potable water from a neighbor’s outdoor pool today, which seems clean enough to bathe with and not only to use for flushing. They are kind enough to let folks come and grab bucketfuls, so this morning I passed several neighbors pulling kiddie wagons and rolling carts holding 5-gallon buckets. The radio is still urging everyone to stay home and avoid driving; many traffic lights are not working, some roads are closed, and there is the gas shortage on top of that.

I saw another neighbor dragging a heavy bucket of water from another direction this afternoon and asked where she’d gotten it; she said there’s a creek at the base of the hill by the ABC store and Patton Ave where homeless folks often congregate; that is an important resource to know about to access water over the longer term.

Some folks with means seem to be evacuating, or planning to. One neighbor told me she was looking to take her children and rent a place at the beach. The water situation, on top of having no power, is the clincher. I heard a rumor that potable running water might not be restored until December, as multiple water lines have been washed out and roads have been destroyed on top of other water lines, making repairs more difficult. Keeping things clean without running water is a real challenge, especially if you’re not used to it.

We are fortunate in that my neighbor Rosie has a generator and a propane stove; another neighbor is offering free charging from a solar setup they have in their front yard. Still, I can’t help but absorb some of the dire, worried atmosphere. Sure, I once didn’t take a shower for 20 days when I did Outward Bound in this area years ago. I’ve lived without power and running water in West Africa. But heck, I didn’t sign up recently for having my home be like an outdoor challenge expedition! I would really love to take a shower right now.

I just went out to try to charge my phone in the neighbor’s yard and listen to the 4pm radio update that they usually broadcast there. Their truck wasn’t there so I wasn’t able to charge, but a different neighbor was walking around with a cart of tamales and offered me one, so I view that as a fortunate and successful outing nonetheless. I heard from another neighbor that the hospital is only able to operate now because they brought port-a-potties into their indoor space.

We were talking about how long things would be closed, and she pointed out that places like medical offices legally need running water in order to be able to operate.

I just heard on the radio that there will be no trash or recycling service until further notice. There was a reminder to folks not to use drinking water to flush their toilets.

Apparently the water that was distributed today at Pack Square Park was purchased brivately by the City for a cost in the hundreds of thousands of dollars. A city representative says they hope to receive water from state and federal sources to supplement in the coming days, that they had to purchase this water privately as a stopgap measure. I keep hearing about FEMA. but I’m not clear on how exactly they are going to assist in this area.

More from the radio (via Blue Ridge Public Radio):

“Sell-evacuation is encouraged in Weaverville.”

80 patients are waiting for admission into Mission Hospital

30 babies have been delivered during this event.

June and I just walked down to the fire station to try to get Internet so I could send this and check messages and so that she could download an audiobook but not only was there no Internet, it started pouring as soon as we got there, so we had to run back up the hill and got soaked. The rain is going to make it difficult for me to do my grilling for dinner. This is|seeming more and more like a survival challenge!

One good thing about the rain is that it gave me the opportunity to collect more rainwater for flushing, and, if we get desperate, for washing. I emptied one of the garbage cans that i’d stored leaves in for the compost pile and dragged it around to a different area of the gutter that is damaged and where water pours off. I thought again of Togo, of how I’d stored my water in a plastic garbage can there, too.