I hadn’t even  heard of Hurricane Helene until a few days before it hit. That’s unusual. Normally, there is a week or more of weather reports saying something is developing somewhere in the Atlantic Ocean that may turn into a tropical storm or a full-fledged hurricane.

We always pay attention to hurricane news, even though we live so far inland in Georgia that hurricanes usually don’t affect us directly. There have been some exceptions, of course, such as Hurricane Irma, which left us without power for almost a week in 2017, not long after we moved here. And even without direct contact, we’ve experienced torrential rains and heavy winds during other hurricanes since then.

Helene was especially scary because its path covered not only the Gulf Coast of Florida, but a huge swath of central Georgia, as well as parts of North and South Carolina, Virginia, and Tennessee, which is not a state you think of when you hear the word “hurricane.”

Our area wasn’t too hard-hit, although many trees were uprooted and power lines knocked down, including on our street, where a tree fell across the road, taking power and phone lines with it, and blocking access to and from our home until the tree was cleared off the road and the power lines restored. Still, we were luckier than many others, and my heart goes out to those whose homes and communities were devastated or destroyed by Helene.

A grocery store near us is just a few miles off the interstate, and has had its shelves emptied by people trying to find the food, water, and other necessities they no longer have access to at home. The store has been bringing in extra workers and inventory to try to keep up with the demand, and I know of several people who were in the store and bought groceries for—or gave cash to—out-of-town families who were shopping there at the time.

I met a man a few days ago who introduced himself as a refugee—from Augusta, which is about an hour and a half from us and was hit especially hard. He and his family were staying with relatives here, and although they had already been here a week, he said it would be at least another week before they could go home.

“We were lucky, though,” he said. “Our house is still standing.” And although they had no fresh water, electricity, or phone service, he was already planning to volunteer with church groups and other organizations—collecting and distributing food and clothing for those who lost everything in the storm—as soon as he got back. It reminded me that disasters such as this often bring out the best in people, even those who themselves may be victims.

I hope that wherever you are, you are safe. If you were impacted by Helene, I hope you are recovering and receiving the help you need. And I hope that whenever the next storm hits—because we know there will be others—we will continue to come together to do what we can to help those who need it most.

October 5, 2024
©Betty Liedtke, 2024

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