Saturday, September 28th
[Update written by David - this was his first email out]
Jen and I are safe, but it’s surreal being here in Washington, D.C., with sunshine, cafes, and food, while mentally I’m in Black Mountain, where Jen is managing survival mode. I’m here helping a friend through surgery, missing a massive 500-year event back home.
Thursday night was terrifying for Jen. She called me at 4 a.m. with water lapping at our front steps and a tornado warning. The mandatory evacuation wasn’t clear—it was meant for those by the river. Jen decided to shelter in place and moved our valuables upstairs. High winds, falling trees, and no power added to the chaos. In the darkness, she could only guess at the dangers, including her car sliding into a sinkhole in our driveway.
By daybreak, she could send videos and photos and came up with a plan. She moved the cars just before the worst of the storm hit at 10 a.m. Friday. The storm brought 16 inches of rain in just a few days, toppling a large tree that thankfully missed the house but destroyed our landscaping. A new creek formed alongside the house and the driveway was heavily eroded, exposing our stormwater drainage system. The front yard looks like it’s collapsing, and the road is unstable.
Through it all, Jen stayed calm, moved cars, and even blocked off our street using event caution tape. Neighbors came together to help each other out, and thankfully, Brent and Jamie Bookwalter, along with their kids, are safe too. Brent and Jamie checked on Jen, walking a mile through the chaos. I lost cell service around noon, but Jen moved to the Bookwalters’ house and regained signal around 7 p.m., so we finally got to talk again.
This morning, I talked Jen through finding the lithium battery packs, chainsaws, tarps, and extra propane tanks. We also discussed setting up the Starlink internet and using the camper’s solar system. We have all the gear, but I’m not there to help, and the feeling of helplessness is tough. It’s frustrating being out of touch, but at least Wendy’s satellite radio is working, so I’m staying informed.
There are some lessons learned—like leaving the truck with a full tank, since no fuel is available without electricity. Many of our survival tools assume we’d be together, but Jen is handling things remarkably well.
The Bookwalter’s had a large oak fall on their garage while Jamie was in the state work truck. Thankfully, she wasn’t hurt, but the garage roof is damaged and exposed to the next rain.
Big picture? What you see in the news doesn’t cover the scale of the devastation. Roads, bridges, and driveways across a multi-state region are destroyed or blocked by mudslides and fallen trees. The geography here is different from flat, coastal areas—every road is winding and crosses rivers or creeks. The damage is extensive, and some areas are completely cut off with no communication. Food, water, and medical supplies will need helicopter resupply soon.
The DOT was hopeful about opening the interstates, but now there’s no set date. Helicopter rescues may become necessary to get essential supplies to those trapped in rural areas. I’m confident the larger towns will get the basics within 72 hours, but until then, it’s going to be rough.
If you’re wondering how to help, I wish I knew what to suggest. Gofundme efforts will pop up, and I’ll share them when I can. In the meantime, I’m figuring out how to get back home to help.
