CMP Review 2024-09-30
September 30, 2024



















The past four days have been an emotional roller coaster, filled with anxiety and sadness as Hurricane Helene ravaged my hometown, where most of my family still lives. While we felt the storm in southern Georgia with heavy rain and temporary power loss, we escaped any serious damage. But as the storm gained strength in western North Carolina, I was in touch with family there, and things quickly grew worrisome. Soon after, all contact was cut off—power and phone lines went down, and for the next day and a half, I was unable to reach anyone. When I finally heard my mother’s voice, the overwhelming relief brought us both to tears. She confirmed she and everyone in her household were safe. She had also connected with my sister, who was safe too. “It’s bad, really bad, but we’re okay. We’re safe,” she said. As time went on, I got brief messages from other family members, all safe as well. That sense of not knowing, of wondering if the people you love and grew up with are alright, is an agonizing experience. My thoughts and prayers are with those who are still missing or unaccounted for.
My heart is heavy for Mitchell County in western North Carolina. Their water treatment facility sustained damage, which means no running water for the foreseeable future. The river has been tainted with oil and fuel, making the water unsafe for consumption, even if boiled. One of the grocery stores was submerged, and the other is powerless, so both are closed, leaving no food available. The entire downtown area, especially Lower Street, was devastated, wiping out small businesses. With the electricity still out, gas stations remain shut, and people are struggling to find fuel to power generators and clear the wreckage. Many elderly people who rely on oxygen are in danger of running out, and some are trapped in their homes. Landslides have swept away entire homes, and some areas, like Little Switzerland, are completely isolated, with roads leading to them destroyed. The extensive damage means restoring power and communication could take weeks. In the meantime, the community is pulling together to clear debris, find alternate routes, check on neighbors, and share resources.
It’s tough to imagine returning to the normal routines of work and school amidst all this. In A Grief Observed, C. S. Lewis wrote, “We were promised sufferings. They were part of the program… Of course it is different when the thing happens to oneself, not to others, and in reality, not imagination.” And in another of his essays, “How to Live in an Atomic Age,” he wrote:
This is the first point to be made: and the first action to be taken is to pull ourselves together. If we are all going to be destroyed by an atomic bomb, let that bomb when it comes find us doing sensible and human things—praying, working, teaching… They may break our bodies (a microbe can do that) but they need not dominate our minds.
As I reflect on these words, they bring together my attempts to come to terms with the events of the past few days. The mountains of North Carolina have always held a special place in my heart, and my fear is that small towns like Spruce Pine may be overlooked as resources are spread thin. Spruce Pine, which I once mentioned as the source of the pure quartz crystal used in everyone’s phones and computer chips, is now in desperate need. The entire region is struggling, but the destruction in Mitchell County is as severe, if not worse, than what we’re seeing in larger, more well-known areas. Media coverage has been sparse, and the full extent of the damage hasn’t been widely shared. If you’re looking for a way to help, spreading the word about what’s happening in these smaller communities is one place to start. Right now, some of the most pressing needs are clean drinking water, fuel, and if possible, more Starlink services to restore communication. Generators and food are also in short supply as resources dwindle. Any help you can offer would be a lifeline to those struggling to recover.
@tessakeath