Home, Escape, Vulnerability, and Resilience
Thoughts on home, Helene, and the act of asking for help
I do not need to tell you about Hurricane Helene. For the past few weeks, WNC has been at the center of the media world. Areas around Asheville and north and east were devastated.
WNC is my home. I was born in Asheville/Hendersonville and then spent the rest of my childhood in Swain County.* These are my people. I am these people.
*Before I continue, thanks to so many of you who have reached out and asked how my parents and their property are doing. The storm mostly spared their area, which is a grace. There was a little flooding in town, but nothing compared to other areas. My parents are thankful and fortunate. If the storm tracked a few miles further West, it could have been a different story.
WNC is a place of escape. Any Scotch-Irish immigrant who settled into WNC 100-200 years ago probably did so because they were on the run. They wanted to get away from the bureaucracy, the Tories, the taxes, and prohibition. (My high school's old mascot was the Ridgerunner. Ridgerunners were illegal moonshiners who souped up their cars to outrun the authorities [a tradition which, as you may know, eventually became NASCAR.]) Western North Carolinians are a people on the run. They don't want your attention, your pity, or your help. Resilience, a determined spirit, and independence are the qualities I love the most about my friends from home.
If you think about it, your instinct when you vacation to WNC is also to get away. Every mountain vacation plan probably starts with "Hey, let's escape for a bit." Bad cell service. One local grocery store. Go on a hike that was way too hard. A mountain getaway.
One of the reasons the recovery efforts have been so difficult is access to all the little nooks and crannies in these mountains ("hollers"). Ask them and they'd tell you they are there because they don't want you to find them or bother them. Terrorist and Olympic bomber Eric Rudolph hid from the FBI for five years in these mountains. If he didn't fatefully wander into town to rummage through a dumpster, I don't think he ever would have been caught. WNC is a place of endless hiding spots. If you don't want to, you'll never have to be found, seen, or heard from.
But now the world has descended upon them. Volunteers, the National Guard, the media, and non-profits. This attention is disorienting. A place that was considered an escape from the city, the summer heat, the "real world," and the modern problems of life now is the center of the nation and its pity. Predisposed to shrugging off your help or attention, they now need it. How do a people--my people--predisposed to self-reliance and independence suddenly now about-face to receive help offered from the outside? Doing this is a remarkably brave and uncomfortable act on their part. "I need you right now" is a hard thing for any of to say.
Vulnerability is a funny thing. I myself, a product of stubborn, Appalachian, Scotch-Irish genes, have been on a journey towards more openness, more vulnerability, and more willingness to ask for help when I need it. I am learning to rewire my concept of self, self-reliance, independence, belonging to God, and community. I need you. I need others. I can't do it all on my own. But ask my friends- I'm not very far along on that journey yet. I'm still not always convinced I need help. I'm still working on this.
Hitting the (Literal) Trail to Raise Funds for WNC
So... on December 7th in Old Fort I am participating in a 12 hour endurance event to help raise a little bit of money towards their overall goal of $2,000,000. I'll run/hike as many miles as my body will allow, probably somewhere in the range of 40-50 miles. (Edit: Between the first draft of this paragraph to now, I've picked up little injury. So maybe I need to temper my mileage predictions!)
Proceeds go to the Old Fort Strong Fund, which will help rebuild the over fifty homes lost in that county alone. Below is my giving link if you'd like to make a small gift. Home needs help.
Fundraising page for my 12 hour endurance run: