Part II: Hurricane Helene Relief Efforts

Wednesday, October 2nd (4 days after Hurricane Helene)

The Samaritan's Purse orientation started at 7:30am sharp, and while I'm late to most things, I wasn't going to be late to this. I carefully parked the Escalade (the thirteen year old Penny-mobile is going strong) in the crowded parking lot at Alliance Bible Church in Boone, NC.

It felt a little bit like the first day of school. I was nervous I wouldn't know anyone (or what to do?) but excited to have an impact, to connect with others, and to be God's hands in helping his people. 

I signed in, and found a seat in the congregation. I sipped my coffee and I tried to count how many volunteers were there... 300? 500? Too many to count, and they kept rolling in... I loved reading people's shirts to try figure out where they were from. A Clemson fan, a Myrtle Beach t-shirt, a Charlotte brewery, and U Miami student... These people were from all over. I did a slow 360 spin to get a better view and thought to myself, "All these people, from all over the country, came to help strangers." It was beyond moving. I hid my tears in my coffee.

After the quick safety orientation, which included "If you've never used a chainsaw, don't start today," we were separated into teams and ushered to find our project lead in the parking lot. Ok, this was a little like school! I kind of missed school.

My project lead, Hillary, stood tall and proud next to a 12-ft truck Samaritan's Purse truck with the back door open. Inside were stacks of tools, wet vacs, brooms, and 5-gallon buckets. 

As we gathered around, she yelled at us to come closer, and I liked her immediately. She was all business. She thanked us for being there and showing up for our Christ community in need. She then told us the family's story, which I proceeded to cry the whole way through, but this is what I remember. (Changing their names to protect their privacy).

This family of four in Vilas (10 minutes NW of Boone), a husband (Thomas) and wife (Lindsey) in their thirties with three kids, lost everything when their home and small business on their property flooded on Friday. As the water rose quickly, Thomas realized the flood danger and evacuated his wife and children to their Grandparents' house, but when the Grandfather returned, he couldn't find the Thomas. A few minutes later he saw Thomas wading through four feet of water, saving what was left of their home. Their first home, a home he restored and added on to for his family.

Honestly, I could have sat there and cried for days after hearing the personal effect Helene had on lives, but then Hillary shouted the address and asked us to carpool, so there was no time for tears. As we drove to Vilas, we passed countless U.S. Army hummers, Red Cross supply trucks, Blue Ridge Electric trucks, food trucks, and large trailers hauling excavators and Bobcats. 

It felt like we were going to war. Or were we cleaning up after battle?

We passed mile stretches of highway covered in a light brown dust, meaning it was completely under water at one point (how! there is so many places for the water to go! how could there be so much water!) juxtaposed with rushing creeks flanking the road, continuing to erode the sediment and therefore the road foundation, what's stopping these roads from collapsing at any minute? I held on to hope, God was going to get us there, and there were bigger fish to fry. 

We passed several homes with 20 foot high furniture piles at the street. I nievely thought, "Wow! They really hustled to save those things from the flood by getting them to higher ground," until I realized that was trash, entire homes flooded, all of that was contaminated. They brought it to the street to go to the dump.

The trouble with flooding... Is it wasn't just rain water... It was runoff from the chemical plant up the river... It was your neighbor's septic backup... It was your trash... Everything that flooded was contaminated, if not for the dirty water, then for the moisture than led to mold and bacteria growth. People lost everything.

We arrived. Seeing the orange Samaritan's Purse t-shirts descend on the home gave me goosebumps. It was a heavenly sight, one I will always remember. I felt His presence clear as day.

We broke up into two groups, one indoor and one outdoor, and proceed to waddled through a foot of mud to get through the house. My instinct was to remove my boots at the door... But then I realized the silliness in that. The whole house was a contaminated construction zone.

 

Our goal of the day was to complete the "mud-out," to make the home "contractor-ready" for a rebuild. We gutted the floors by removing carpet and linoleum. We removed dry wall and paneling down to the studs, making sure every last nail and staple was removed and the studs were smooth.

20-year old App students crouched beside 65-year old retired Firemen helping strangers. The goodness in humanity was right in front of me.

Outside, we tore down the back porch that was halfway into the ground, removed debris (including a toy Jeep that floated from a neighbors yard down the street), and cleaned the front porch. We easily filled up five industrial truckloads of trash. I can't image the total amount of trash Helene caused. 

At least we had beautiful weather. It was a crisp, fall day, high of 70, and the leaves, what was left in the trees after the high winds, were already changing.

After a quick PB&J at the car, I saw Lindsey and one of her daughters pull up to the house. Lindsey was my age. I couldn't imagine all the emotions she had experienced in just a few short days The exhausting decisions she had to make, the care and strength she had to show her girls, all after losing everything. I wanted to give her the biggest hug. I wanted to hug my husband and dog at home, too.

Lindsey had managed to salvage a few boxes of keepsakes. They were stacked on the front porch. A team of female volunteers flocked to her aid, opening container after container of birthday cards, children's artwork, and sports medals soaked in brown sludge. Each box held life's memories - emotions - milestones. Time moved in slow motion, and it should have. This felt like the most important place to be in the world. She held up each one, smiled and recalled each memory, and gently placed it into a clean container where we tried to clean it off.

That's when I felt the power of the females energy, "GIRL, we can totally clean that... LOOK, honey, it's good as new!," said the nurse from Hickory, NC, who took her day off to volunteer. I liked her a lot, too.

Then came a large, pink, paper box (half of it was more of a clay color from the flooding). I thought to myself, "well, this one is a goner," but Lindsey's motions quickened and I felt the importance of the box before she said anything. "OH, IT'S MY WEDDING DRESS! I hope it's okay."

My nose tingled that tingle it feels before the tears rush from my eyes. I couldn't make eye contact with her. I noticed the other ladies were moving their hands to new containers, acting busy, they couldn't look either.

But as Lindsey pulled the dress from the box, everyone turned. The top beading was perfectly intact, she smiled as she held it up, and with that smile, I could almost picture her in it. The bottom third, on the other hand, was completely covered in caked-on mud. That kind that crumbles off your shoes when you take them off at the door. But on satin, on white satin, on the most important outfit of her life.

Our quick unofficial moment of silence was interrupted,

"HUN-EY, you'd be ah-may-zed at what these cleaners can get out these days! I'm serious! I've seen worse. They'll get that out in no time."

We all smiled, and our smiles oozed hope. I love nurses, especially this nurse from Hickory. She knew just what to say.

Around 4pm, our volunteer team finished our work orders, and began to say goodbye. I learned that typically, Samaritan's Purse teams will come in quickly after a natural disaster to get homes "contractor-ready," but not full-rebuild. In Appalachia, there were too many homes to help, too many families like Thomas and Lindsey's, and some not so lucky. 

This time we did hug Lindsey and Thomas one at a time and spoke words of encouragement over them for the coming days. What words did I have for them? Their strength, their love for one another, their humbleness to open their wounds up for outside help... They were the helpers, they were our teachers on strength and humility. 

Then, a Chaplain from Billy Graham School of Missions brought us all together for prayer. Mentally and physically exhausted from one day of manual labor... That prayer hit deeper than any other prayer I can remember.

I've never spent my day in a more meaningful way than that Wednesday. I hope my story provides a glimpse into the impact your physical and financial contributions to Samaritan's Purse has on Western North Carolina.

 

Thank you for your generosity, Penny Pals. Please continue to pray for all those affected by Hurricane Helene (and those in Hurricane Milton's path).

 

Stay Cheesin,

Becca

For more information on Samaritan's Purse and how to volunteer, please visit https://www.samaritanspurse.org/