A few miles south of Boone, North Carolina, the rain started on Tuesday.
Afternoon thunderstorms dropped 1.61″ of heavy rain along a cold front at my house in the little town of Foscoe. This cold front would be a part of our lives for much longer than anyone realized.
Grim forecast
By the time Wednesday rolled around, the forecasts were starting to look increasingly grim. Tropical Storm Helene was churning in the Caribbean Sea, soon to take a turn to the north.
As the day rolled on, the clouds thickened and quickened from the southwest. By afternoon, the rain had set in again. Strong thunderstorms rolled in from the south, and I witnessed my first tornado. This was exciting for a weather aficionado. It was to be the least scary part of my weekend.
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The rain intensified throughout the evening. One inch fell, then another, and another. At one point, we reached an astounding 4.56″ per hour rain rate, by far the heaviest rain I have ever witnessed. By midnight, we had already received 8.30″ of rain, and we still had 48 hours to go before Helene moved through the region.
Storm shifts
I went to work as usual on Thursday morning, splitting my day between my day job and updating North Georgia about the storm through Now Habersham. It was clearly going to be a bad situation overnight. We shut the store down early Thursday evening to beat the worst weather home. At that point, I wouldn’t have guessed we wouldn’t reopen for another week. I barely slept overnight watching a Category 4 Helene make landfall and begin racing north. By this point, it was becoming more apparent that the storm was moving in a different direction than initially forecast. The storm had maintained just enough of an eastward component after landfall that it was headed for Western North Carolina.
The rain hadn’t stopped since Wednesday night, and by midnight Thursday, we had tacked on an additional 10.60″, bringing our total already to a whopping 19.51″. To this point, the wind hadn’t really blown very much. That changed beginning in the early hours of Friday. Strong winds moved in during the morning. At times, the house shook as the winds battered us from the east and later from the south. Our predominant wind direction around here is from the northwest, so these strong gusts from the opposite direction are something I am not used to. The wind didn’t bring any relief from the rain. Limbs and tree tops rained down in the forest around me as another 8.17″ of rain fell. 28.68″ total. Over two feet in 4 days.
Surveying damage
After my power had been out for some time, around lunchtime, I decided it was time to go out and check on the neighborhood. I realized very quickly that driving wasn’t an option. Trees blocked our driveway in more than one place, and it was in severe danger of washing out entirely at the top. So, I went on foot.
I first checked on my neighbor, who had a river running into the side of their house. Mind you, we aren’t normally on riverfront property. The sheer amount of water coming down the mountain overwhelmed any natural runoff streams and rolled down in sheets across the ground. Fortunately, my house sits slanted so that it kept the newly-formed river from running underneath. My neighbor wasn’t so lucky, but the damage was limited to underneath the raised house.
I moved down the driveway to the intersection with the dirt road ours branches from. I was startled to find it wasn’t much of a road anymore.
After surveying the damage as best I could in the pouring rain, I made my way to the highway beneath us and across the street. There, I found a low water bridge on the other side that was completely washed out and a person stranded on the other side. This bridge normally sits several feet above the Watauga River. We are near the headwaters, so getting the river this large, this far upstream, requires some serious rain. 28″ is enough. I made a quick call to emergency personnel to get him help.
Messy mile
I continued my trip down the highway, assisting anyone I could reach and checking on spots near the river.
I saw many houses flooded and one mobile home washed up on a bridge. Fortunately, the owners were out of it before the river claimed it.
I had witnessed so much destruction, and as I turned around, I had only made it one mile from my house.
Over the next few hours, I would get my truck out and make it a little farther down the road, although it was washed out or completely blocked by landslides in both directions.
I was finally able to get out of Foscoe the following afternoon, but the roads were still rough. I spent the next few days working on fixing up my home and property, as well as venturing out to help others. I was able to help one gentleman who had lost part of his house to a landslide. I spent several hours with others shoveling mud. I also spent some time clearing one-lane sections of roadway of tree debris.
The western half of the county was hardest hit. Further downstream, the Watauga had swelled to 20 feet above normal, and all the feeder streams did the same. The communities of Banner Elk, Cove Creek, Sugar Grove, and Meat Camp around Boone were all hit extremely hard.
Loss and recovery
It has been a little over a week since Helene’s departure. I reopened my store on Thursday, but the effects are still being felt. I count myself among the lucky ones to have minimal damage. I know numerous people who still don’t have power and several who suffered much worse damage. The National Guard has been fixing roadways, and hundreds of linemen have been working to restore power.
I don’t really have the words yet to describe how I feel about the storm. It was terrifying being inside my house, knowing that at any moment, a tree could fall onto it or the mountain could give way. This happened to countless people across the region. I rarely shelter in my closet but did so on more than one occasion. Overall, I just feel sad; sad that so many died as a result of this storm across the Southeast. Sad that we won’t be able to share this beautiful region with you for a long time. Sad that hundreds, if not thousands, of people have lost their homes and livelihoods, and sad that more will in the coming months as tourist dollars dry up.
“Tomorrow’s gonna be a brighter day…..”
A tough road lies ahead, but we’ll be here at the end, fighting, NC Strong.
