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.
- 📖 View Help
-
- View a Story: Click on a story to open it up and view its details and media.
- Sort the Archive: Click Sort to arrange stories by creation date or alphabetical order.
- Advanced Search: Click Advanced Search to narrow results by various dimension options.
Do you have a story or item to add? Contribute Your Story
Please help by sharing these stories.
-
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 -
Alex Ware - A housing crisis
Alex Ware had lived in the Boone area for a little over a year, having moved to be with his girlfriend who was getting her master's degree at Appalachian State while he pursued his associates at Caldwell Community College. During Hurricane Helene, they were living at Bavarian Village, a complex notorious for flooding though Alex didn't know this as he was new to the area. Like many others, they were told on the news the storm wouldn't be that bad. The morning started normally with school canceled, so they decided to stay in and watch a movie. About an hour into the film, they lost power, and 45 minutes later water started coming into their townhouse. They frantically hauled belongings upstairs as a foot and a half of water flooded in. Alex managed to save their cars by pulling them onto the sidewalk, though his girlfriend's car died a few months later from everything getting soaked. They were displaced until halfway through December—nearly three months of staying at Airbnbs, friends' couches, and going back to Alex's family in Greensboro on weekends to avoid paying for lodging. The first night they paid $245 for a hotel room in Blowing Rock that normally cost $115, driving through deep water, mud, and trees across roads, sometimes driving off-road to avoid obstacles. Their landlord offered to refund their rent if they could move out immediately, so by Sunday evening they had the entire place cleaned out, receiving less than $300 (three days prorated rent plus security deposit) since it was the end of the month. They lost everything downstairs—washer, dryer, couch, and a nice electric fireplace. They received FEMA aid, though it didn't make up for Airbnb costs and replacing furniture. Despite both continuing school without anything slowing down, Alex didn't feel back to normal until they moved into their new place in mid-December and got everything unpacked. He successfully earned his associates degree and is now pursuing his bachelor's, while his girlfriend graduated and works at App State full-time. Looking back at the one-year anniversary, Alex reflects that those first three months of going back and forth—sometimes staying 30 minutes away and driving back daily—felt like much longer than a year, though he considers them very lucky to have found a place before year's end. -
Granger - Crisis Nutrition: A Student's Career Path Forged by Hurricane Helene
Granger, a dietetics and nutrition major at Appalachian State University, comes from a family with deep roots in the region—his lineage extends to Spruce Pine on his grandfather's side, while his mother and aunt both attended App State, daughters of Marion Swan, a Methodist preacher in Boone. During Hurricane Helene, Granger was in Elkstone Hall and vividly remembers a tree falling perpendicular to their building, miraculously slanting into the field instead of hitting the northern side and preventing injuries. He watched floodwater rise higher and higher in the nearby creek until it cut off their exit, trapping them in that section of campus. As a dietetics major, he had prepared extensively, stocking up on pasta, pizza, salad, yogurt, and filling every water jug and gallon in his dorm, planning his food so carefully that he had leftovers after the storm. He was among the 6,000 students who evacuated, returning October 17th when classes resumed to find everything coated in dust and eerily quiet with so few people there. The hurricane profoundly shaped Granger's career aspirations. While already interested in nutrition for underserved populations, he became laser-focused on crisis nutrition after witnessing the three back-to-back lines at dining halls and worrying about everyone being strapped for time and needing food. He now wants to work in areas of severe weather impact, war zones, epidemics, and crop failures, bringing food and medicine to those in need. His vision extends beyond typical disaster food like jerky and salty MREs—he wants to develop nutritious food that can be brought into disaster areas without damaging people's systems, and help develop crops that can withstand hurricanes. His grandfather's house in Spruce Pine (one of the hardest-hit areas) narrowly escaped damage when water climbed 50 feet up the gully, stopping just three feet from the house without even hitting the basement. Granger was inspired by the camaraderie he witnessed—people who didn't know each other and haven't talked since putting aside differences to share meals and transport water and canned food, reminding him that humanity can endure and work together to make the world better, even as these storms become more frequent. -
Cameron Agers - Trapped on a Mountain: An App State Student's Hurricane Experience
Cameron Agers, a senior PR major and Japanese language minor at Appalachian State University, describes her experience during Hurricane Helene while living in Fleetwood, about 20 minutes from campus at the very top of a mountain accessible only by off-roading. She was asleep when her roommate woke her to say they had no power, water, or cell service. They attempted to leave for a friend's apartment on King Street who had either power or water, but discovered trees had fallen across the road, trapping them on the mountain. In their first-ever introduction to their neighbors, they hiked 10 minutes to ask if they had a chainsaw. Fortunately, the neighbors did, and another person was already working on cutting down the trees, allowing them to escape. Agers and her roommates stayed at their friend's King Street apartment for four days, though none of the bathrooms were working. They woke at 7 a.m. needing to use the bathroom but the library didn't open until 9, so they drove around searching for working facilities. Eventually they bought 10 gallons of water from Harris Teeter to manually flush the toilet. She acknowledges feeling lucky that their house wasn't damaged compared to others who experienced much worse, and appreciated seeing the community come together to help each other. The experience brought her closer to her roommate, a friend since eighth grade. While she didn't formally volunteer, at Harris Teeter she reached a point of just handing out supplies to people who needed them. Having the luxury of going home to Apex the following week to a fully functioning house, she reflects on the experience as "an adventure—not the best one, but an adventure" with effects that will be everlasting, though grateful it wasn't the worst experience of her life. -
‘Toxic Soup’: PFAS and other contaminants surged in French Broad River after Helene, study finds.Unknown‘Toxic Soup’: PFAS and other contaminants surged in French Broad River after Helene, study finds. New research shows how hurricanes can wash sewage, industrial chemicals and “everything in people’s garages” into North Carolina waterways, and how to prevent that in future storms. By Will Atwater, North Carolina Health News. November 28, 2025.
-
Stacey Miller BRAHM Listening Day - September 20,2025
UnknownThis oral history interview features Stacey Miller, Chief Building Inspector for the Town of Boone, North Carolina, recorded on September 20, 2025, at the Blowing Rock Art and History Museum. As a Level 3 inspector in all five building trades—one of only 5% of inspectors in North Carolina with this distinction—Miller provides a detailed firsthand account of the extensive damage assessment work conducted in the aftermath of Hurricane Helene. Miller describes the storm's impact beginning Thursday before the hurricane hit, through the immediate aftermath when he was called to condemn buildings, and his subsequent three weeks of intensive damage assessment work. His account covers multiple affected areas including the Town of Boone, Watauga County (particularly the devastated Howard's Creek and Watauga River areas), and Ashe County's Lansing region. The interview documents catastrophic flooding, complete destruction of homes and infrastructure, dramatic rescues, and the resilience of affected residents. Miller's professional perspective offers valuable insight into the scope of structural damage, emergency response coordination, and the challenges of post-disaster assessment work across multiple counties in western North Carolina. -
Robin Miller - Part of Oral Histories collected at BRAHM on Sept 20, 2025
UnknownThis oral history interview features Robin Miller, President and CEO of the Blowing Rock Chamber of Commerce, recorded on September 20, 2025, at the Blowing Rock Art and History Museum. Miller offers a unique dual perspective on Hurricane Helene, having experienced the storm's impact in two very different locations. Miller was serving as CEO of the Tampa Bay Beaches Chamber of Commerce in Pinellas County, Florida, when Helene made a near-direct hit on the Gulf Coast community where she lived. As one of the first community leaders to arrive in the aftermath, she was deeply involved in the initial recovery efforts there. She had interviewed for the Blowing Rock position in August 2024, and despite assuming the job search would be suspended due to the hurricane, was offered the position in mid-October while still managing Helene and Hurricane Milton recovery efforts in Florida. She relocated to North Carolina on December 28th, 2024. The interview provides valuable comparative insights between hurricane recovery in coastal Florida versus the North Carolina mountains. Miller contrasts the immediate, rapid cleanup efforts in Florida's tourism-focused communities with the longer-lasting, more interconnected community response in Watauga County. She discusses Blowing Rock's unique situation—experiencing primarily fiscal rather than structural damage due to tourism loss and Blue Ridge Parkway closures—and the ongoing partnership efforts between Blowing Rock and Boone to support affected businesses. Miller reflects on the challenges of experiencing the same disaster in two different communities and her perspective on crisis recovery and community resilience. -
Renata Dos Santos - BRAHM - Listening Day Sept 20, 2025
UnknownThis oral history interview features Renata Dos Santos, co-owner of Rivergill Fishing Company, recorded on September 20, 2025, at the Blowing Rock Art and History Museum. Dos Santos, who has lived in Todd, North Carolina for approximately 12 years, provides a compelling account of Hurricane Helene's impact on her tourism-based outfitting business and the Todd community. Living off-grid at nearly 4,000 feet elevation with her wife Kelly, who served as chief EMT for the Todd Volunteer Fire Department, Dos Santos initially experienced the storm as relatively mild from their home—watching trees sway while drinking hot chocolate. However, the severity became clear when firefighters reported that their 40-foot warehouse containing all their business equipment was gone. The interview describes their difficult journey to assess the damage, the relief of finding their main building (the old train depot) and their animals (a pig and a blind goat) safe, and the shock of discovering their equipment scattered throughout downtown Todd. Dos Santos offers unique insights into the communication challenges and community response, describing how she and Kelly spent hours each night answering messages via multiple platforms, serving as a communication hub for the area due to their elevated location's cell signal. The interview details the massive volunteer response from across the country, the collection of 88,000 pounds of debris, and numerous acts of kindness, including a stranger paying their entire $20,000 trash bill. Notably, Dos Santos shares the profound emotional impact of the storm, including her inability to return to the river—central to her business—having only kayaked once since the disaster. She reflects on finding purpose in the crisis and the extraordinary display of community resilience and humanity.
