No Safe Haven From Helene
Was it unprecedented? Not exactly. Western North Carolina was sometimes marketed as a “climate haven,” but Asheville has flooded before, though not for over a hundred years. Previous disasters throughout Appalachia, like the West Virginia floods of 2016 or the devastating eastern Kentucky floods of 2022, proved that mountains are susceptible to deadly flash flooding and landslides. The region is also infrastructurally precarious, with aging water lines and a vulnerable grid. And the communities are socially vulnerable as well: Hospitals have shuttered, economies are reliant on low-wage service work, income inequality and the cost of living are increasing. Inadequate zoning regulations and building standards have compounded environmental risks. Meanwhile, just 0.5 percent of single-family homes in western North Carolina have flood insurance, and the maximum award in housing assistance from the Federal Emergency Management Agency is only $42,500.
Residents of the river towns of Marshall, Swannanoa, and many others are coming to grips with the scale of loss and digging themselves out of the muck at the same time. Though public officials and FEMA are present, there’s still a pervasive question: If not for neighbors, who would have mucked out the houses or cleaned the streets? Volunteer groups like Marshall-based Rural Organizing and Resilience, or ROAR, and tiny home company Nanostead have become information hubs, tool libraries, and volunteer dispatch centers. As uncertainties about the public health consequences of the cleanup have continued to swirl, and some involved have shown signs of respiratory and skin ailments, community members have done their best to keep one another safe and informed.
Floodwaters from the French Broad River (which flows north) inundated roads and buildings in Marshall, downstream from Asheville, and left behind a potentially hazardous dust. The road in front of this destroyed building was sprayed down to keep the dust from blowing around.