Tuesday AM Update
[Most of the text is from David while the photos are from Ian]
Is it Sunday? Saturday? Last Thursday? [It was actually Monday night when David wrote and sent this]
I've been on the ground in Black Mountain for 26 hours (and have slept 5 hours).
I'll try to keep this short (if I had more time, I'd make it even shorter)...
A few minutes ago, I left the fire department in Black Mountain (where I was in the last command staff meeting of the day, more on that in a moment) and the lights came on. I cried. I thought it would be weeks. 10 minutes earlier a civilian stopped in and said the lights were on in Tractor Supply (1/2 mile away) and why? We were dubious... bang, victory. Thank you, utility workers. Huge milestone.
Everywhere is dark, helicopters are overhead constantly, and I can tell you that from the inside... the missions are a combination of 'typical' first responder calls and house fires, but with the added element that... you can't get there. The other calls are 25/75 chance of body recovery vs. delivery of essential drugs/oxygen. We're at the 72-hour mark, and the tolerance is bursting at the seams for meds, etc.
The community response is ridiculously inspiring. Friends and acquaintances seen infrequently over the past few years as Kitsbow and travel have consumed my attention... are present and in front of your face. Relief, thanks, gratitude, connection. Both they and I struggle to keep composure. Hundreds of volunteers doing whatever it takes to help.
I'd estimate 1000 or more at the emergency meeting of the town at 3 pm. So many close friends, many friendly faces, and a few big agitated citizens at their (obvious) 72-hour breaking point. But 99% have a great attitude.
5. Yes, as I predicted based on Jen's info and public safety buddies... the devastation is deep and wide. If you've read the previous updates, everything I described is true. The facts, as they roll into the EOC ("emergency operations center," the term of art for where the local incident/disaster is managed) are numbing. Entire roads missing. Trails. Railroad lines. Interstates. Not just covered with mud or fallen trees, but quite literally gone. Think pavement in the river, not mud in the way.
6. Microclimate is a thing. Some communities worse than others. Yes, our community is worse. More distant, more rural areas are even worse than us. At least our citizens can walk to the store, the community meeting, the water distribution point. More distant communities don't have that... and when I say distant, I mean 3 miles.
7. I arrived with Susan into Asheville... no problems, clear sailing at 80 mph (I was prepared to show my credentials and describe my purpose) from the Charlotte airport. Asheville is still not reachable from any other interstate, but 26 from the south was open. Bruce was waiting for us at their house; we offloaded all the survival goods... and I spent an hour getting to Black Mountain. It was trial and error... to find a path; the devastation was so complete. Roads I've run on calls for many years... drooping lines, trees in half the road, mud washouts... and then turn around and drive back to try another route. Got to Jen at 7 pm.
8. Drove right to Jen at the Bookwalter’s and reunification was sweet.
9. Sleep, maybe not so much. Camper on tilt. But home. Gratitude.
10. Today started with getting the basics at the house straight (the camper no longer on tilt), breakfast, and then... head to the command post. I already had my buddies asking for help when I was gone... so I knew what was waiting. Sure enough.
The issue with wide-region disasters is that every jurisdiction is hugely overloaded, and none can help each other (as normal). This will resolve in coming days, but my best role was to take my 40+ years of emergency response and management and jump in. Jen (seeing me for about 10 minutes) agreed, and in fact, she and our friend Ian too. They became the deputized Black Mountain Fire Dept assistants. The staff we encountered have been without relief for 48+ hours. Happy to see us all.
So now I'm the Communications Officer for the incident management team. It's full on. As it turns out, I've got plenty of experience in this role. Decades.
As readers of previous updates know, Susan and I brought a Chev Suburban rental from Charlotte... stuffed to the gills with supplies. Ian did the same in his 4Runner. We put all of that in the hands of volunteers in Black Mountain... including freeze-dried food, butane/propane fuel canisters, tarps, and lots of water.
As we sit by headlamp Monday night... the sky is quiet, the helicopters stilled for now, the Bookwalter’s figuring out how to evacuate to a more sustainable place for their kids. Many of our friends left today already... it is simply too hard to flush toilets with buckets of spring water, cook on a porch, find toilet paper, etc.
Ian and Jen did a great job today running endless odd jobs and setting up procedures at the command post. More resources are arriving: National Guard, other communities.
The key points for you all:
a. No matter what the drama you see in the media... it is much worse. This will come out in the months/years to come. Impossible to put into words.
b. We don't need any more supplies. There are truckloads of supplies already here. They haven't even been handed out yet, so pause on that.
c. More supplies (even the ones we delivered last night) incur more costs, as volunteers need to be recruited to process these awesome gifts... and volunteers are in short supply.
d. Because everyone is being encouraged to self-evacuate and go somewhere else... where there is connectivity, water, electricity, food, etc. So there are fewer volunteers. You will learn more from us as friends set up in different locations.
We love you. We love your support.
Please standby for How You Can Help. It will be needed!
