After the Storm
Oct 31, 2024
I live in the heart of the area hardest hit by hurricane Helene. As those who’ve lived through catastrophic storms know, the aftermath is devastating. Homes, businesses, communities, and lives destroyed. Infrastructure chaos as uprooted trees take down electric lines and flooding rivers overrun communities in their way. Our county water manager watched the water at the station that serves 70% of the county leap from the normal 273,000 gallons per hour to 345,000 to 400,000. By the time they got to the pipes, large sections were washed away along with the road. The community went dark and dry.
The Veil between us lifted
And then, it was as if the veils came away and our hearts opened. The best of humanity emerged. Care for one another was the common thread: who was safe, who was in need. Neighbors greeted neighbors for the first time with genuine concern for one another’s wellbeing. People armed with chain saws came to the rescue of those with downed trees in their driveways or homes. Neighbors shared food and water. Those few who got electricity back quickly ran extension cords, battery packs, and charging stations so people could keep cell phones alive. Those who had satellite internet set up free WiFi stations in their front yards, providing chairs, bottled water, and food supplies.
People helping people
Volunteers came out by the thousands to help check on those whose family members couldn’t reach them or to deliver food and water to those blocked in. Those with wells gave freely of their water, filling 250-gallon containers for distribution areas. Those with pools offered free water for flushing. FEMA and emergency crews from communities all over the country arrived en masse, bringing water, food, supplies, and clearing roads of trees, 8-12 inches of toxic sludge, and the debris that had been washed downstream.
There was a change
Strangers and neighbors stopped and engaged in meaningful conversations with people they passed. We all knew we shared something important in common. Conversations showed genuine care for one another. Conversations about managing for the long haul emerged, because the lack of water and rebuilding the community will be a long haul. Conversations that deepened our connections, helping one another find what they needed, and linking those who want to help with those who needed volunteers.
Can we maintain this level of community connection?
For those not in harms way, as services come back on--cell service, internet service, and running water, even though not potable--we are returning to the privacy of our homes, returning to jobs, if we have one. Without diligence and vigilance, the veil will return. The nation will go on to the next critical event. It will be a long time until Asheville has any sense of “normal”, but those of us whose lives are somewhat normal are already beginning to hurry through the day, nodding to the neighbor instead of pausing for a conversation, even a brief one. I am one of them.
It’s way too easy to give in, but the loss is the loss of genuine community caring and connection. And that feels like a tremendous loss. If we don’t intentionally change the “norm” we will never sustain a sense of genuine community and connection. How might we as neighbors and communities engage in conversations worth having that will create a new normal; one that supports relationships, caring, healing, and growing the wellbeing of the whole community?
How might we - or you - start a conversation to create a new normal...before the onset of a crisis?
I have only questions. I long to engage my neighbors, community, and colleagues in conversations to seriously ponder:
- How might we continue to be a neighborhood community that is focused on strengthening our relationships and fortifying the infrastructure of the neighborhood?
- What do we want in our neighborhoods and communities and how can we just make it happen instead of depending upon the city?
- What if “city government” was made up of representatives from community neighborhoods working together for the good of the whole—making decisions in the interests of the people and not in the interests of profit?
- How might we create systems (healthcare, education, government, organizations) that honor connection, care, communication, taking care of one another’s needs and helping the whole system flourish?
- What if we stopped trying to cram more and more into a day and instead made time and space for play, conversation, those in need, and community gathering?
- What if part of our paid workday was volunteer time in the community to support whatever would help the community thrive?
- What if we saw the hurricanes, fires, and floods as “dry runs” for what is coming and instead of building back to normal, we innovated new infrastructure and built relationships that were indestructible?
- What if we built to last instead of building to profit?
- How might “we the people” create communities of wellbeing and thriving, focused on supporting health, abundance, and life for everyone in our community?
And one for myself...
How do I hold onto the deep gratitude and simple pleasure of a hot shower?
