Recovery can be slow and painful, but it can also be full of joy, creativity and
humanity.

I’m sitting in my office looking at sunny, blue skies and reflecting on where I was this time last
year. My wife, Nina, and I had just embarked on a 20th anniversary trip to Portugal. At that time
Helene was just starting its life far away from Asheville. A week later things started to get more
ominous as Helene made landfall and began to cross the state- heading straight for us. We made
it home very late on the 26th just beating Helene’s arrival in Western North Carolina by a few
hours.
We woke up at 5 am to big Oaks crashing down in the backyard. Our family was lucky and
spared from permanent losses. WNC had seen severe rain events from hurricanes before like
Ivan and Frances in 2004 and The Great Flood of Asheville in 1916. But now, through a
combination of unforeseen and unlikely circumstances, Western North Carolina was facing
catastrophic damage from a hurricane hundreds of miles from the coast.
In each case, early storm rains saturated the soil such that when the next wave of rain, or in this
case the hurricane, arrived there was nowhere for the water to drain. Saturated soil is also too
soft to hold the roots of trees in place in the face of high winds. With the full power of Helene
raining down on WNC, the French Broad River swelled beyond her banks, devastating towns
like Bat Cave and Swannanoa. Trees were ripped from the earth resulting in the loss of an
estimated 20% of our canopy.
No power, no cell, no water, no stores, no gas, and cutoff from everywhere with interstates
closed in three directions was next. We got updates on local NPR radio. There were a few places
you could send a few texts. We gathered on the streets to catch up with neighbors and share intel
on where to get supplies. We shared and helped and used the tools we had to get by and take care
of each other.
People were volunteering at shelters, distribution centers and their neighbors’ homes. We went to
help a friend in Fairview who had 4 ft of water in her house. While there, we saw big army
helicopters landing and watched as they released cadaver dogs into the creeks looking for the
many people still missing. What had felt so surreal began to feel viscerally real.
People came from all over the country, bringing supplies and volunteering to clean and clear
debris. During the next 2-3 months we had milestones of power reactivation, the return of cell
service, getting water for toilets then finally drinking water. In the meantime, another bitter
reality set in as many people had no jobs or places of work. The shops and restaurants had no
tourists, a huge driver in our local economy.
Spring was the goal- Just survive till trees bud out and hide some of the scarring. ‘That will
elevate spirits’ we hoped. It did help, however we still had fewer visitors than we were used to
and unsightly piles of debris were still being cleared. Then came summer and a sense of renewal
and normalcy started to return with increasing momentum. Labor Day almost felt like any other
downtown with people out walking and enjoying concerts and festivals.
No, it’s not our pre-Helene normal, however, it was the closest to it that I have felt since
September 26th, 2024. What has been forged in Asheville over the last year of recovery is
stronger, braver, tougher, more compassionate and more resilient than we could have imagined
this time last year.
We are hoping people return for fall foliage if they haven’t been back yet. We’re still the same
Asheville with stunning national parks, award winning restaurants, and first class spas, shopping
and breweries. We’re still the town where people smile and say hi when they pass and spend
Friday nights dancing at the drum circle. We were tested and we faced tremendous loss, but our
commitment to recovery is a testament to our love for this beautiful place we call home.
We hope you’ll come see what we’ve been working on.
-Tracy