Hello, Friends,

On Saturday morning, I shared an update regarding the devastating impact of Hurricane Helene on our community here in western North Carolina.

I’ve received an overwhelming outpouring of kindness, support, and well-wishes… in the best possible way.

Thank you.

In the two days since that update, I’ve had more time to survey the damage in our community and the Swannanoa/Black Mountain area.

I thought I’d share an update…

No Vehicle Egress

After posting my Saturday update, I fueled up my chainsaw and, with my daughters’ help clearing debris, got to work on the first batch of trees blocking our driveway.

When you’re cut off from society, wielding a chainsaw, and working with fallen trees under pressure, safety is paramount. Thoughts like, “Safety first, always have a clear escape, and be patient and methodical” run through your mind constantly. There would be no professional medical attention if I made a mistake.

After lunch, we decided to explore further down our road and connected with neighbors.

It was then that we discovered the extent of the damage along our two-mile-long mountain road. Every 10-20 meters, trees blocked the road. I soon realized that clearing my driveway was futile. So, our neighborhood made a plan and started gathering resources to tackle the downed trees together.

We also learned that the bridge connecting our community to Swannanoa had been completely washed away. Even if we cleared all the trees, there was no way to get vehicles across the water.

A Neighbor in Need

That afternoon, we learned that one of our elderly neighbors urgently needed antibiotics for a tooth infection—she had a root canal appointment scheduled for this week, but there are no detist office open. Another neighbor, Chris, and I made a plan to bike into town to find the medication Sunday.

Reconnaissance

Beyond helping our neighbor, many of us were eager to assess the damage between us and town—a roughly seven-mile stretch of road.

Keep in mind: we were so completely cut off that almost no one knew what things looked like in Swannanoa.

One friend and neighbor, who owns an auto repair service in town, had no idea if his business was still standing.

We wanted to get reliable information to share with our neighbors so rumors wouldn’t fuel anxiety (and yes, rumors had already started because, as we all know, that’s what happens when people are worried and there’s a lack of information).

Sunday Morning

Overnight, I charged several of my HTs (handheld VHF/UHF radios) and distributed them to neighbors (thankfully, I’ve ollected quite a few of these over the years especially since everyone in our family has a license). I set up a simplex frequency and schedule so we could communicate. I also wrote down instructions in case someone accidentally bumped a button and needed to re-tune to the correct frequency.

No, most of these people don’t have licenses, but this is 100% a real emergency. Hams in the region have even been giving volunteers their radios to share wellness checks via our repeater systems and the emergency response network.

Neighbors were excited to finally have a way to communicate and coordinate. Even though we all live on the same road, downed trees and other debris mean it can take 10-15 minutes to get from one house to another. The radios cut through all of that, giving us an instant way to share critical information.

As I said in my previous post, having a radio is like having a superpower.

First thing Sunday morning, I turned on my radio and monitored the Mount Mitchell repeater. After checking traffic, I prepared my circa 1990 Fuji Suncrest mountain bike. She’s a hearty girl!

Chris and I met, got our neighbor’s prescription, and headed down the two-mile stretch. The journey was tedious, with fallen trees and downed power lines along the way.

I also packed a notepad and pencil to gather wellness checks and messages for loved ones. I ended up taking about a dozen messages—both to relay between neighbors and for the emergency net.

I won’t lie: crossing the creek/river, carrying our bikes, on a make-shift foot bridge neighbors pieced together, was dodgy at best. I decided then and there that I would not take the bike across on the way back. We’d hike the two miles up the road.

Town in Ruins

When we arrived in Swannanoa, it was heartbreaking. Flood-affected areas were utterly devastated. Entire neighborhoods were wiped out. I teared up seeing buildings pushed from one side of the road to the other. The loss of life from this event will likely be far greater than anyone imagined.

Chris discovered that his truck, parked in what he thought was a safe grocery store parking lot had floodwaters up to the seat—total loss. Of course it wouldn’t start and it might be a total loss.

The pharmacy in Swannanoa was closed, so we biked on US 70 to Black Mountain to check another Chris heard was open. Unfortunately, it was not.

Fortunately, however, a kind business owner, who was removing medications from his flooded store, gave us the antibiotics we needed. He wouldn’t accept payment. Amazing!

We also picked up free dog food being given away at Hazel’s vet office. I packed two bags—the maximum my 33L pack could hold—for neighbors who needed it. Hazel is set for at least a week, maybe more.

The ride back was more challenging since I was now carrying extra weight. My tires really needed a tad more air with the weight, but one of my Presta valves is a little questionable and I I didn’t want to risk it breaking.

We stashed our bikes at a neighbor’s house—a couple we’d never met before—who gave us keys to retrieve them anytime we needed them later. Again, we didn’t want to risk crossing the bridge again with the bikes—once was sketchy enough.

The hike back up the mountain (a 1,000-foot elevation gain) was tough, but we managed to catch two short rides, which helped. We also met neighbors hauling gasoline up with a hand truck and caught up with them.

I got home around 5:00 PM, exhausted after a 20 mile round trip into town on a bike that, at that point, was caked with river silt/mud. While the biking wasn’t too bad (thanks to all my cycling—mostly stationary these days), the heavy lifting, dog food in my pack and non-stop work over the previous few days were catching up with me.

That night, I collapsed into bed and slept soundly.

Continuing Updates

I’ll try to continue these updates regularly.

To be honest, I’m so tired and busy that it’s hard to find time, but I want to share this experience with you. You’re my radio family, and I want you to know how we’re doing.

Thank You

I’ve received so much support and kindness from all of you—it’s truly amazing. Thank you. Thank you. Thank you!

I won’t be able to respond to messages and comments right now–my hands are just too full–but please know I read and appreciate each and every one. Thanks for understanding.

I’ll leave you with this: I’m so incredibly proud of our amateur radio community. Everyone snapped into emergency communication mode, and now it’s all second nature. It’s truly inspiring—this network of people ready and eager to help.

I hope to post again soon.

Thank you, and 72!

Thomas (K4SWL)