Weathering Hurricane Helene: A Personal Reflection

The past several weeks have been unlike anything I ever imagined for Western North Carolina. Hurricane Helene hit hard—devastating mountain towns that were never prepared for this kind of disaster. Black Mountain, where I live and run Brew Naturals, took a double blow: 9 inches of rain before the storm even arrived, followed by 20+ inches in just a few days.

At home, water seeped through the basement walls while trees crashed around us. My husband was outside digging trenches in the driveway to keep water from flooding the house. We made it through with minimal damage compared to others, but it’s been emotionally overwhelming. Hearing about reservoirs failing and dams breaking in the middle of the night felt surreal. A close friend’s husband had to be rescued off his roof after floodwaters rose to his attic. Tragically, not everyone in the community was as lucky.

It’s been a whirlwind—one moment, I feel grateful we’re safe, and the next, I’m overcome with survivor’s guilt as I learn about the losses others have endured. Homes, businesses, and lives were taken. Our local economy, largely built on tourism, has been thrown into chaos. Right now, we can’t even welcome visitors—roads are destroyed, infrastructure is damaged, and it’ll take time to rebuild.

In the middle of all this destruction, I’ve also seen incredible beauty. Neighbors—many of whom had never spoken before—shared meals, resources, and hugs. Strangers offered help without hesitation. Kids played in the streets. It was a glimpse of what humanity can be when we set aside differences.

Brew Naturals has survived, but my business, like so many others, is in a tough spot. I rely heavily on local events and wholesale accounts, most of which are now gone for the foreseeable future. And because I work with local farms that grow specifically for me, if I can’t make it through, they’ll feel the hit too.

I don’t know what the future holds, but I’m here. Sweaty, exhausted, and not entirely sure what comes next—but here. And there’s hope in that. For now, we rebuild, one day at a time, leaning on each other as best we can.

Thank you for being part of this journey with me.