A Personal Account of Disaster, Survival, and Community

Hurricance Helene

By Daryl Grimes

On September 27, 2024, my life changed forever. We received reports of a potentially devastating hurricane, with forecasts of torrential rainfall and high winds striking an already saturated region. Having lived through hurricanes in Eastern North Carolina, I assumed, like so many others, that Hurricane Helene would bring a few hours of rain, perhaps some downed trees, and the temporary inconvenience of power outages, but life would return to normal before long. I was wrong. Helene became a disaster beyond anything I could have imagined.

To help you understand what unfolded during those early morning hours, let me start from the beginning. The church parsonage where I live has flooded before. The Swannanoa River is only about 75 yards from our deck. Randy Stone, a former resident of the parsonage, once told me he saw the water rise to the deck's edge in the past, but nothing too concerning.

As the storm progressed, I watched the river swell, creeping closer and closer to the house. My wife, son, and daughter-in-law were still sleeping, unaware the water had already reached the bottom step of the deck. No previous resident had seen the water this high, and it was still rising.

I woke my family, and we evacuated to the church, further away from the river. Others from the church and community slowly gathered at the church, as the storm continued to rage. We received word a dam had broken, and soon the church was surrounded by floodwaters. Then water began to seep into the basement. We moved upstairs to the sanctuary, and as we gazed through the windows, it became clear this flood was unlike anything previously experienced. We briefly considered climbing to the church’s balcony if necessary. Thankfully, it never came to that.

After the winds and rain subsided, we stepped outside to assess the damage. While our church basement and family life center were flooded, the only real damage was wet floors. Miraculously, the parsonage itself stayed dry inside, but the cement steps had been washed away and the chain-link fence flattened. Our once-peaceful backyard resembled a warzone, littered with debris — downed trees, large rocks, gas cans, tires, and miscellaneous garbage.

News reports soon confirmed many roads were impassable due to fallen trees and mudslides. Visitors to the town were trapped and unable to leave. With the power out since early morning, businesses were closed, gas stations inoperable, and restaurants unable to serve customers. People had nowhere to go, and some had nowhere to stay. Communication was also a challenge, with cell phone service down in many areas.

On Friday, a handful of our church members came by to check on us. I told them we would hold a “parking lot service” on Sunday. Later that evening, a couple stranded by the storm stopped by. Although they lived only 30 minutes away, both I-40 and their alternative routes home were closed. They worked for a mission organization in Marion and were returning from Pigeon Forge when they got stranded. We offered them shelter, but they insisted on staying in their van. Gratefully, they also offered to help around the church and did so.

Having lived in Eastern North Carolina, I knew from experience rivers often do not crest until days after a storm. I feared the same might happen here, but thankfully, the water began to recede. Saturday remained cloudy with the threat of more rain, but it held off. Throughout the day, we met more people stranded in Black Mountain — some only a few minutes or hours from home but unable to leave. Many had spent the previous night in their cars, running low on food, water, and fuel. We did what we could to help, offering bathrooms, snacks, and water.

Sunday’s parking lot service was small, but we shared prayer requests and stories from our communities. I didn’t preach but offered simple thoughts from Scripture and led us in a time of prayer, thanking God for safety and asking for His mercy on our community. After the service, I realized our freezer’s food was about to spoil, so I cooked everything we had and made plans to distribute it to anyone in need.

We didn’t have to go far; people came to us. A group of ladies looking for baby formula joined us for lunch, as did a couple stranded on their way to a wedding. We shared what we had and shared the gospel. That day, four ladies confessed Christ as Lord and Savior.

The following days are a blur. My son and daughter-in-law finally found a route back to Pennsylvania, while Michelle and I headed to Columbia, South Carolina, for a few days to refill prescriptions, shower at my niece’s house, and wash clothes. Others from our church joined us on the trip to purchase supplies. By the time we returned, power had been restored, though we were still without running water or Internet. Nonetheless, we felt it important to get back and serve our community.

In the weeks that followed, a steady flow of supplies and volunteers arrived. Strangers from up and down the East Coast showed up with truckloads of necessities. Brothers from Pittsburgh brought a U-Haul filled with supplies, while others from West Virginia delivered pallets of water. Churches from Greenville, North Carolina, donated twenty refrigerators to our community and another four to a sister church in Asheville. Tens of thousands of dollars were donated to help those who lost their homes and belongings.

Two Scriptures resonated with me throughout this ordeal. The first comes from the book of Esther, when Mordecai reminds Esther God may have brought her to the Persian palace “for such a time as this.” I believe every believer in Western North Carolina has a strategic opportunity to let the light of Jesus shine in the devastation left by this storm. We are here “for such a time as this.”

The other Scripture is found in Acts 2, where the early church took care of one another, selling possessions to meet the needs of others. Through this disaster, I’ve seen the Body of Christ come together, give, sacrifice, and serve like never before.

Because of the generosity of donors, Meadowbrook FWB Church has been able to minister to hundreds of people through supply distributions. We have coordinated over thirty debris cleanup operations. We hosted a propane fill-up and have seen hundreds of meals served by a variety of people.

But really, we are just a conduit, a channel. The supplies poured in, and the supplies poured out. The work crews came in, got their work orders, and went out. When you think about it, that’s what we all are as Christians. What do we have that we haven't received? You and I are just channels, conduits God has chosen to use to pour His blessings out to someone else.

I’m certain our valley will be changed forever — and I hope to be changed as well. My prayer is to continue being a conduit of Christ’s love and the Holy Spirit’s power to those who desperately need help and hope.

About the Writer: Daryl Grimes pastors Meadowbrook FWB Church in Black Mountain, North Carolina. Former North American Ministries church planters, Daryl and his wife Michelle planted Flagship FWB Church in Erie, Pennsylvania, and have ministered in North Carolina, Michigan, and Ohio.