The following events were overwhelming for us at times, but we navigated the challenging circumstances. Here’s some of what we went through.
Just before dawn on Friday, September 29, I woke to sounds of wind, rain, and Kitty Q meowing at our bedroom door. If he stays indoors overnight, he waits quietly for me to rise and attend lovingly to his affections and breakfast needs. This morning, he felt scared.
I opened the bedroom door, gave Q some lovin, then watched my autumn wreath flap wildly against the front door window. Concerned about the decorations, I opened the front door attempting to unhook the wreath, but the howling, whipping wind pelted rain against the front of the house and all over me. I closed the door then scurried to look out the windows at the back of the house. My adrenaline started rising as I watched the tall, narrow pines in our back yard that border the corn field next to our property sway half way toward the ground. Later, their collapse would leave a sweeping view of the corn field and distant apple orchard.
Having a feeling of foreboding, I hurried into the bedroom and announced to my sleeping husband, “Are you awake?” He replied through his CPAP, “I am now.”
“There’s a terrible storm hitting, and you might want to know about this,” I said.
“I can’t do anything about it,” his groggy voice replied.
I don’t know what I expected, just that I was getting scared and needed to let someone know. About fifteen minutes later, Tom emerged from the bedroom, hopeful the electricity that went out at 7:00 a.m. would turn on within a few hours. It didn’t—we were among the fortunate people who only waited four days. Our friends in a neighboring town waited ten days and other friends waited for fourteen days.
Phones still worked on Friday morning, so I met with my scheduled client at 10:00 a.m., but phone coverage became irregular as our voices dropped out and in. We finished the session, and the phone service disconnected along with the internet minutes later. Cell phone service went up and down over the next four days.
Falling Trees
When I looked out my office window that faces the backyard, I announced to my husband a tree had fallen onto his work shed, a forty-four-foot-long building that houses his tractors and miscellaneous items. I heard another crack, thud, and hastened to a side window. The next-door neighbor had a substantial, fallen tree in his back yard, thankfully, missing his house, but it hit the front of his shed and broke the soffit and trim off.
Another vibrational thud sounded, and I looked in disbelief and shock out the front window. The hundred-foot-tall pine that stood sentry over our neighborhood in the common area of our cul-de-sac went down, and shortly thereafter, an established maple. I prayed for our house to be protected, the lives of everyone in my neighborhood, and everyone being affected by the storm.
Grateful for Generators
Tom decided to fire up one of his portable generators to keep the refrigerator and freezer cold and the sump pump in our crawl space working. He put on waterproof motorcycle gear bracing himself to open the garage door to wheel the generator to the outside of the house where he could plug it in. My job was to press the garage door button. He readied himself, told me, “Okay, push the button.” I did—nothing happened—of course, no power. We burst out laughing, dissipating accumulating worries and tensions. Plan B—we wheeled and lifted the generator out of the side door, a tight fit.
This generator runs on propane. The propane ran out within the next few days with none to be found, but Tom had another gasoline-powered generator that we used sparingly until the electricity came on again.
Some neighbors had generators while others did not. Many people lost electricity and refrigerated food while some neighbors left town and traveled to stay at a community further east in North Carolina.
We assisted one of our neighbors by providing a small generator to keep his refrigerator running, and gave other neighbors a hot meal, and a thermal bag with ice packs to keep their medicine cold. Friends who were without electricity a total of ten days came several times to enjoy a hot shower and hot meals. We appreciated spending time together, connecting and supporting one another. Though devastating and heartbreaking, people were coming together.
The Flooding of Lewis Creek
Friday afternoon when the rain turned to a sprinkle but the wind was still gusting, Tom and I ventured outside to survey our yard. We discovered patches of our house shingles strewn about the ground. Curious about nearby Lewis Creek, we then walked beyond our housing plan to check out the creek and potential flooding. The banks of the creek disappeared under the high-water level, and the surrounding land was flooded with muddy water.
We saw the now familiar site of a large tree laying over the bridge. Several vehicles approached and turned around until a pickup truck pulled up and stopped. A tall, strapping man got out and fired up his chainsaw. We learned that he and his wife have a tree-removal service, The Hungry Beaver. The wife said the storm washed out a road atop the mountain near them, and those people were stranded. The man’s chainsaw cut through the tree creating a passable lane. They got in their truck and drove on. As Tom and I headed back to our house, we heard the truck’s engine approaching again. They slowed their truck and told us they came upon three, large pines across the road. With their destination impeded, they went in search of another route.
The popular, charming town at the bottom of our mountain fifteen minutes away, Chimney Rock, a state park, completely washed away. Many towns here in the mountains washed away. Over three hundred landslides have taken houses, businesses, roads, and people’s lives. One police officer, who is the son of a friend, said, “They’ll never find all the bodies.”
Looking For Propane
On Saturday, September 28, Tom and I ventured out hoping to find propane. The terrain was unimaginable. The devastation was surreal. Trees blocked roads, telephone poles and power lines were down. We couldn’t travel a mile without encountering an impassable road. When fortunate, we’d come to a road with one lane passable where someone had cut a tree back just enough. We continued driving over downed power lines.
At gas stations we saw lines of cars, hundreds in both directions all trying to get gas while the supply lasted. With phones not working, we couldn’t communicate with loved ones to let them know we were okay. My emotions toggled between feeling disoriented, frightened, and sad, to using my will power to ground myself, remember to take deep breaths, and trust that our needs would be met.
Comfort in the Evenings
In the evenings, we lit candles and turned on Tom’s LED camp lantern for lighting. Holding a flashlight, we’d take turns reading from a book that a friend recommended, Awakenings from the Light, 12 Life Lessons from a Near Death Experience, by Nancy Rynes. The book’s content provided inspiration and upliftment. At first, Tom slept in his recliner chair. I had hoped the chair may be better for his sleep apnea since he couldn’t use his CPAP machine. I slept in the bed. The next night I slept on the couch to listen to his breathing and realized his sleep apnea continued regardless, so we opted for the comfort of the bed.
Power, Cell Phone, and Internet Glitches
On Monday, September 30, early evening, Tom reached someone at Best Buy. He needed to get a computer battery back-up that could run his CPAP. He was told the store was open, but when he arrived, they were closed. A silver lining came when he stopped at a gas station. He waited in the line of fifty cars, and filled his cans each with five gallons of gas. A gallon runs a generator for about five hours. On Tuesday, October 1, at 2:33 a.m., the electricity came on, but cell phones went down. Cell phone service returned Friday evening, but it wasn’t until Sunday evening that the internet was working. Perhaps, you can appreciate how discombobulating these disconnections were.
We’re using a large fan to dry out our crawlspace from the mildew smell that was permeating into the house. Insurance adjusters came on Wednesday, October 9 to assess the damage. We were fortunate to have a tree removal service already begin to remove our fallen trees.
Gratitude and Appreciation
I could go on with a hundred more details but basically, we shifted into a survival mode of existence. I know there are many people who were, and are, navigating much worse scenarios. Rescue and supply helicopters flew over our house frequently in the first ten days becoming quiet at night. Upon seeing and hearing the whirl of their engines, I’d lift a heartfelt “thank you” to each of them and to all the rescue workers.
In spite of the losses in these beautiful mountains, people are resilient and healing will happen in time. I wanted to let you know we’re okay and to share a portion of our experience. I also want to thank everyone who sent prayers, positive energy, and kind thoughts. Your love and caring means the world to us. Thank you and blessings to all of you.