Hurricane Helene Archive

Stories

The Hurricane Helene Archive brings together a collection of media contributed by community members, researchers, and historians. Use this page to explore firsthand accounts, images, and documents that offer insight into the storm, its impacts, and recovery efforts.

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  Messages of Hope: Ep 2 - The Resilient People of Beech Mountain

  With the support of UNC Health Appalachian, the Boone Area Chamber of Commerce presents Messages of Hope. This series features stories of the perseverance, courage, and partnerships displayed in the wake of Hurricane Helene's impact on the North Carolina High Country. In our second episode, we journey to Beech Mountain and see how local businesses, government, and people came together after Helene. These leaders rallied to ensure the community had essential supplies while others built the literal road to recovery. In the face of isolation, these leaders turned a challenging situation into a testament of resilience and community spirit. Produced by Real Boone Studios with support from the Boone Area Chamber of Commerce. Additional footage provided by Jimmie Accardi, Talia Freeman, and Town of Beech Mountain.
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  Messages of Hope: Ep 1 - Valle Crucis School

  With the support of UNC Health Appalachian, the Boone Area Chamber of Commerce presents Messages of Hope. This series features stories of the perseverance, courage, and partnerships displayed in the wake of Hurricane Helene's impact on the North Carolina High Country. In our first episode, we hear the story of flooding at Valle Crucis Elementary school, and how local partners came together to provide a home for over 250 students and staff that were displaced from one of Watauga County's oldest and most cherished locations. Produced by Real Boone Studios with support from the Boone Area Chamber of Commerce. Additional footage provided by Watauga County Schools and Jason Cornett.
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  One Year After Helene Part 4 - Resiliency: Mountain Strong

  Part four of a four-part video series created by University Communications around the 1st year anniversary of Hurricane Helene.
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  One Year After Helene Part 3- Research: Learning From Disaster

  Part three of a four-part video series created by University Communications around the 1st year anniversary of Hurricane Helene.
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  One Year After Helene Part 2- Resources: We Are Better Together

  Part two of a four-part video series created by University Communications around the 1st year anniversary of Hurricane Helene.
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  Response and Recovery: The First Days of Helene

  Part one of a four-part video series created by University Communications around the 1st year anniversary of Hurricane Helene.
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  Liam - Delivering Supplies and Witnessing Systemic Failures in Hurricane Relief

  Liam, a transfer student who had been in Boone for close to two years, arrived the fall of Hurricane Helene and was living in the Sleep Inn transfer dorm (when they still had that program). He first heard a few days prior that there would be heavy rain, maybe a hurricane, thinking it was interesting for the mountains. He woke at 5 a.m. when the power went off—not feeling the hum anymore—and found a good chunk of the dorm already downstairs, most already familiar with each other. For the next two days with no power but still having water, everyone constantly hung out together trying to pass the time—"honestly like one big hangout or one big party for all three floors." Then they lost water. Since the Sleep Inn was a hotel on city water, they didn't get water, electricity, or Wi-Fi back for weeks while other dorms did. Liam stayed there throughout, and right after the hurricane he took his car around delivering supplies, though driving through mud, water, and back roads broke his turbo and covered his fuse box in mud—thankfully the disaster relief fund helped. The next week, a friend of his mother's who had been in the Marines for 30 years came up with a truck full of supplies to the brim. For two days (Saturday and Sunday, about two weeks after the hurricane), they drove around delivering supplies all the way out towards Spruce Pine and halfway to Asheville. They encountered people who hadn't seen anyone other than immediate family since before the hurricane. Regular flat roads were completely gone—just long pits where roads should continue. Many destroyed cars, some fires, chaos everywhere. Many people weren't getting government money or relief. Liam was deeply disappointed with how structures like Red Cross were functioning—at multiple sites he saw them just standing around on their phones at 2 p.m., doing nothing. Independent helpers told him the same thing: whenever Red Cross or FEMA set up, there would be empty tents, nothing set up, no supplies to give out or supplies but no advertising or delivery. He referenced an independent article about a relief organization that had been given millions or hundreds of millions for past disasters in the U.S. and North Carolina, but money would disappear or help locations would see no one. His brother at UNC Asheville was unreachable for three days. Liam believes billions of dollars (around four billion in taxpayer dollars from Roy Cooper) were given to North Carolina, yet many people who lost homes or businesses received only a few thousand dollars or nothing, especially in Asheville. He believes much of the money was mishandled, some possibly nefariously, and is disappointed by the lack of transparency about how it was spent. His takeaway: help people out, be there for the community, especially people you don't know and places others wouldn't think of, because many don't have the luxury of being untouched. He feels lucky that he, his family, and especially his brother are happy and safe, acknowledging he's "just a dude" without much power but hoping his story can help in some way.
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  Alicia Davidson - Finding Community Through Crisis: A Graduate Student's Volunteer Response

  Alicia Davidson, a graduate student in the professional school counseling department at Appalachian State University (also an App State undergrad alumna), experienced Hurricane Helene during her first year of grad school—her first natural disaster, which she acknowledges is a privilege to say. Her apartment complex completely shut down, running out of water with trees falling and no power for weeks. She moved in with her partner, an RA at Thunder Hill at the time, but her whole nervous system shut down from unending stress. Subconsciously seeking normalcy and stability, she pushed herself to complete all her readings and assignments ahead of time, not realizing this was a coping mechanism. She and her partner volunteered extensively with FARM Cafe, helping with house demolition and removing items from flooded homes. The work was traumatic—she'll never forget wiping mud from a picture frame and seeing a family lose everything—but not being able to go home and being stuck in Boone while trying to do as much as possible was "killing me every day." Davidson and her partner bought water and food to take to FARM, volunteering daily in the kitchen with cleanup and prep, and also receiving free meals there (she still volunteers at FARM). They also worked with Hunger and Health Coalition, where Davidson used her Spanish language skills to distribute medicine to minority and lower-income communities. Driving through the countryside, she saw how these populations—people in trailer parks or living in the middle of nowhere—were swept up and forgotten while attention focused on students and wealthy people on the mountain. Being Latina and giving back to her community when everything was physically ripping them apart was rewarding and restorative in ways she didn't expect. She noted a stark divide in aid distribution: Red Cross resources at Holmes Convocation Center were advertised to students through email in English, leaving people 20 minutes outside Boone in Valle Crucis or Deep Gap with no idea or access. Political demonization of FEMA created unnecessary division during a time when any resource that could help people should have been welcomed. As a counseling student, she was privileged that her professors took two weeks just to talk and color without coursework, but life didn't slow down until December—two months after the October storm—as communities like Lansing remained destroyed and her partner continued weekly research trips there. A year later, she's upset that people don't hear about recovery much anymore and are just moving on, especially after the LA fires shifted national attention. She's grateful the hurricane gave her renewed presence in Boone's activist and volunteer community after grad school had consumed her focus, building friendships and fostering community connection that isn't as present in the world today, while remembering those who passed and the importance of climate change awareness