Hello

This post is a response to a prompt at work about telling our Hurricane Helene stories that I decided to share on here, as well. I think the length makes up for all the writing I haven’t done since going back to work! 😜

My most cherished memories from living through Helene are those of saying “Hello.”

When the worst of the storm hit Friday morning at our house, I moved the couch to the middle of our living room, away from windows where I was afraid that trees might come down. Little Bit and I waited out the storm there, praying and watching downloaded cartoons to keep her calm. Every little bit, we would hear a tree snap and could see them falling behind our house, even brushing the windows, but none of them caused any damage.

When the storm calmed down, I wasn’t sure what to do. There was no communication, and all I knew was what had happened in our little spot. Trees and power poles had been broken like twigs, power lines were laying beside the house, car, and camper, and every surface was covered with bits of leaves and branches blown from the trees.

When I felt safe enough to explore outside, the thing that struck me was how quiet everything was. We live beside the main highway, so there’s almost always road noise and lots of it. For a while, there was absolutely nothing; No vehicles going by, no phone calls, no messages coming through, no voices from the neighboring houses. I didn’t know if I could get to any of my family or if they were even there to get to. We just waited and tried to keep busy by playing and cleaning up the house, so we wouldn’t sit and worry.

We finally started hearing a few cars and ATV’s going by, and I thought several times about flagging someone down at the bottom of the driveway to find out what was going on. Around 4 PM, my dad and niece pulled up in our driveway. I can’t even describe the feelings of relief and joy and thankfulness at seeing them. We were all teary eyed, and my dad kept saying, “It’s bad,” trying to describe the aftermath of the storm, but words failed. When we followed him to their house in my car (they already had a generator), I was also almost speechless at the sights, only able to say things like, “Wow!” and, “Oh my goodness.”

There were so many trees down that it took a very long time to travel the four miles that usually take just a few minutes. An entire grove of trees on the other side of our hill was obliterated, all laying down in the road, snapped in the middle like toothpicks. The path to drive was barely one lane, sometimes on one side of the road and sometimes the other. I found myself holding my breath, I guess thinking that would help my car fit through the narrow openings. We had to wait at times, taking turns with the traffic coming from the other direction. Most of the bridges across the creek to people’s homes were gone, and I was surprised that the one bridge we needed to cross was still intact. We did finally get there, and had another emotional meeting with my mom and grandma. They, too, had been waiting with no idea of whether we would be coming to them or not.

I found out a little later that my dad had gone to get my grandma during the eye of the storm. The wind had died down a little at the time, but the calm did not last for long. While he was helping to cut a tree out of the road, the storm struck again and trees started falling all around him and the other man helping. He even had to drive over one fallen tree to get out safely. I am amazed and beyond thankful that the Lord took care of them in this situation, and that I was able to hug my dad again.

There were more happy greetings with mom and dad’s neighbors (a lot of which are family), and relief to find out that they were safe. We still hadn’t heard from my husband, though. He works for the DOT, and the last word I had from him before communications went down was that they had been sent back to the shop until the storm was over, per governor’s orders. After that, I had no information whatsoever. I had left him a note on our front door to tell him where we had gone.

It was after 10 PM before he made it to where we were. Their crews had worked nonstop since they were released after the storm, just trying to cut paths through the trees for people to reach their families. When he came in, all we could do was hug and cry, so thankful to have our little family back together again.

Over the next couple days, there were several happy reunions on my mom and dad’s front porch: my sister and nephew, my sister-in-law and her husband, who also had good reports from her mom and other siblings (some who live beside rivers), friends who were traveling to Tennessee where there was cell signal and supplies, and other family members who just wanted to know we were okay. 

Once we started venturing out again, there were familiar faces everywhere we went: folks from home at the laundromat across the state line, countless friends at the community center, everyone at church present and accounted for, and students that I teach in all those places. With every meeting, there was joy, thankfulness, and the words, “I’m glad you’re okay.”

Every time I travel our roads or look at the news, I see devastation from the storm: entire mountainsides of trees blown down around the houses; bridges, roads, and homes carried away by unthinkable amounts of water; a landscape that has forever been changed. It is still hard to believe that such a storm happened here in our mountains, so far away from usual hurricane territory.

The destruction and desolation are heartbreaking, but they are very real reminders of two invaluable truths:

• God is Almighty. He spoke this world into existence and is in charge of every single blade of grass and particle of dust.
• God is merciful beyond my comprehension.

I know there are so many stories of tragedy and loss, of both property and lives. But when I see and think about everything that has happened, it’s truly a miracle to be able to say, “Hello,” to all these people in my life.