GERRI WILLIS: This Christmas, I keep thinking about family, friends in western NC. America should, too
The people and the town in Spruce Pine, North Carolina where I am from are what I continue to think about after Hurricane Helene devastated the community this year.
Three months ago, Hurricane Helene touched down in western North Carolina, leaving in its wake $53 billion in destruction. By some estimates, 40% of the housing stock was damaged. An untold number of roads, driveways and rural lanes were demolished. But the real toll was human. More than one hundred people died, 103 to be exact, swept up by rivers of mud and debris. Many people are still unaccounted for, though the exact number is hard to come by.
That Biden’s administration has done less than it could to alleviate the destruction in the wake of Helene is accepted wisdom. And, you know it’s true when you hear uncomplaining North Carolinians praise the private efforts by church groups and charitable organizations like Samaritan’s Purse, while they remain silent on whether the federal government has done enough. The unspoken criticism should sting Congress, but, of course, they are deaf to such tame censure.
I’ve followed this story closely. My family is from a small town called Spruce Pine located fifty miles northeast of Asheville perched on a mountain top along the Blue Ridge Parkway. It is just one of scores of communities in the region, but the cost of restoring just this small town of 2,400 people will be hundreds of millions of dollars. The biggest cost, an estimated $100 million, will be required to replace the town’s water treatment plant which was covered by a blanket of mud during the storm and is unreclaimable.
BIDEN PLEDGES $1B IN AID TO AFRICA AS NORTH CAROLINA RESIDENTS CONTINUE TO STRUGGLE AFTER HELENE
Ironically, all of the developed world is dependent on this tiny, closeknit town because it is here that a rare super pure quartz is mined that is essential to the manufacture of semiconductor chips, solar panels and fiber-optic cables. Without Spruce Pine, much of modern life would be impossible.
My 89-year-old mother, Betty Jean, and my sister, Frankie, were both living in Spruce Pine at the time of the storm. I had warned my sister that a hurricane-force storm was coming and that they should take precautions, but she discounted the warning just like almost everyone there did. No one had ever seen a hurricane breach the formidable wall of the Blue Ridge Mountains. That is until September 24th, when Helene doused the region with 20 inches of rain and battered it with high-force winds. I am lucky my brother rescued my sister and mother and their property was little damaged.
My cousin, James, also a resident of Spruce Pine, moved his family to safer ground in Raleigh as soon as he could, and then, turned around, filling up his truck with supplies and headed right back into the carnage. Like so many, he just wanted to help. Paved roads fell off the sides of mountains, making travel nearly impossible. There was no water, no cell service for days. When I finally reached James to find out how it was going, he said, "They’re picking bodies out of trees." I tried to imagine what that was like.
The emotional scars left by this loss to long-time residents are inestimable. My mother, relocated to my brother’s home, says she still feels a deep sadness as if she was "betrayed by someone she loved." She misses her friends, her church, her view of the mountains from her porch and the sense of security she had there.
My sister, though, said it is the damage to the land itself that is most disturbing. She was shocked to see hundreds of acres of forest felled, mowed down by a wall of mud. I understand her reaction. More than fancy clothes or cars, land is the ultimate measure of wealth in western North Carolina. Everyone there wants an acre, or better yet, two or three or more.
I still remember riding shotgun with my grandfather on a narrow and winding mountain road years ago, his Jeep barely clinging to the berm on the steepest corners. His lead foot turned the whole adventure into a roller-coaster ride. Too young to understand the possible consequences of falling from a Jeep down a mountainside, I giggled. He jammed the brakes, stopping at one particularly lovely vantage point, where he declared, "We own this land from here to that ridge over there." I looked out over the view, stunning and still, just making out the far ridge in the summer haze. I remember being flattered hearing him say that "we" owned it. I had never thought about being a landowner as a child of nine but I was sure willing to start.
Our family’s roots in western North Carolina go back at least seven generations. My sister’s research on Ancestry.com turned up a fact I could never had guessed at: We settled in the area after the Revolutionary War, the land given to us as payment for military service.
These memories crowded in on me as I watched our coverage of the aftermath of the storm. Our own Fox Weather network doggedly reported on the storm, the damage and the efforts to rescue those impacted and rebuild. Listening to our reporters say the names of the tiny towns I had known all of my life – Swannanoa, Burnsville, Blowing Rock – was heart-rending.
CLICK HERE FOR MORE FOX NEWS OPINION
But it is Spruce Pine that I continue to think about especially at Christmas time. Business owners, elected officials, friends and family continue to reach out to share the latest on efforts at recovery there. David Niven is owner of DT’s Blue Ridge Java, an anchor of the downtown, which was demolished when the Toe River jumped its banks during the storm. He is praying that he and his wife, Tricia, can reopen in May, but he’s got a long way to go.
His losses total more than $600,000 and getting a large enough, low-cost loan seems impossible to him. The Small Business Administration is out of loan money. Six-thousand applicants tried to get a handful of loans from the Chamber of Commerce. Winners were chosen by lottery. Niven wasn’t one of them. Meanwhile, the water plant has not been replaced, though temporary solutions have been found. The water has been deemed safe to drink, but many folks continue to sip bottled water anyway.
"For western North Carolina to recover, it’s going to take free money," Niven says.
State officials have anticipated this and on December 10, a delegation of state elected representatives went to Washington to ask for $25 billion to fund recovery and rebuilding. But with basic government funding in question, it’s doubtful Congress can get to the delegation’s special requests anytime soon. At this writing, Congress still hasn’t passed a temporary spending bill to cover government’s costs for the near term. A $100 billion federal grant to the states impacted by Helene is likely but is not law yet.
As temperatures drop, reports of people in western North Carolina living in tents continue to crop up, though officials say the reports are inaccurate. Still, housing is critical. North Carolina State Rep. Dudley Greene was one of the representatives who went to Washington to ask for money. "We have transitioned from the immediate need of food and water, and moved more toward housing. That is a big concern. A week before we had a six-degree night," he said. And, as always, it’s the practical issues that make need more acute. Greene says FEMA’s hotel voucher program is only so helpful since there are few nearby hotels open, and the ones available are simply too far away for people with jobs in the area.
The question though, of course, is what will the next administration do? Vice President-elect J.D. Vance visited Fairview, N.C., early in December (Dec. 6), promising help. "We haven’t forgotten you," he said.
We can only hope he keeps his promise and pray that this Christmas will be followed by a 2025 in which the region gets the assistance it so desperately deserves.
What's Your Reaction?