The Heart of Appalachia

After Hurricane Helene tore through the region last fall, a resilient community came together to bring it back to life

- BARBARA KINGSOLVER

She ripped down forests and left whole towns in shambles. Reaching far past the usual coastal stomping grounds, she came inland to take everything from families and farmsteads. Where I live in southwestern Virginia, we're hundreds of miles from any ocean. Appalachia has seen hard times, but we don't usually worry about hurricanes.

It was only because of family members in Florida that I tracked weather news on Friday, September 27, while making breakfast for a houseguest who was headed out soon. We lingered over coffee, laughing as the lights flickered and the wind howled. I tried to believe the pounding rain was good news after our disastrously hot summer. But when the house went dark with a final shudder, our friend took the cue to exit.

Without a cell signal to guide her, my husband and I led her to the interstate ourselves. Minutes later, we came back to a home barricaded by fallen trees. We clambered through a sideways walnut to get inside and then peered out branch-darkened windows, quietly watching 15-inch-deep buckets on our patio overfill with rain.

Twenty miles away in Damascus, Virginia, Deanna Wolfe was in her kitchen on the phone with a friend. She recalls, “I looked out the window and said, ‘There’s water coming in the park! Muddy water, just pouring in!’ Then she said, ‘Grab what you can. We'll be right there.’” But the two creeks skirting Damascus had already converged in a swollen torrent, swallowing the main road through town. Deanna opened her door to find an emergency-rescue vehicle outside, its hubcaps underwater.