WSeeing images of fires burning in and around Los Angeles is very evocative. I think many of our neighbors in western North Carolina are the same way. It hasn’t been that long since Hurricane Helen caused devastating flooding that devastated our community, but the flooding is far from over for us.
At first, you are full of energy to do what needs to be done at that moment. But then you are left with a feeling of emptiness, exhaustion, and pain as you try to regain something resembling what was lost.
These emotional twists and turns, ups and downs, are a central part of my natural disaster experience. How do we prepare for these heady feelings and the trauma after trauma that lingers in the weeks and months that follow? Are you at home about losses? work? neighborhood? community? Routine? Safety? life? For complete confusion.
At first, you hear a lot of terrible stories. An acquaintance who has lost a family member or friend. people who lost their homes. A place that no longer exists. Chimney Rock, the village I drove my family through on the way to Lake Lure, is gone. The soccer field at Asheville’s Highland Football Club, where our sons played, is gone. Biltmore Village, where we ate, shopped, slept, and left.
Then there’s your own story. My family was safe and my house was mostly okay. However, my pediatric office, which has been serving the community since 1952, was completely submerged under five feet of water. Everything on the first floor was lost: walls, exam tables, files, flooring, cabinets, lab equipment, desks, and nursing stations. Only the cement slab and wall studs remained.
So first comes the loss. Some people lose all, almost all, or about half of everything they own. Then there are those who lose nothing. They are still affected, but exist in a normal, comfortable state, so much so that they can almost seem forgotten in a conversation.
Many of us either have insurance or end up without insurance after we lose something. There are people here who don’t have flood insurance. On the Carolina coast, if a hurricane destroys homes and buildings, people who don’t have wind insurance will suffer. In Los Angeles, people may not have the right type of fire insurance. Even if you have the right insurance, it can take months to receive your money unless your insurance company goes bankrupt.
My business, Hendersonville Pediatrics, has yet to receive a cent from the insurance company. We have four insurance policies with two different providers, two of which are flood insurance policies.
People say that’s what insurance delays are like. Our primary flood insurance program is run by the government. It’s a document. you have to cooperate with it.
But it’s money.
Money doesn’t drive everything or everyone. Some people appear out of nowhere to help. heroes. Fly helicopters to pick people up from the mountains, protect dams, clear roads, put out fires, turn on electricity, start cell phone service, restore safe water. It’s the people. Our communities are experiencing an influx of food, medicine, clothing, diapers, sanitary products, and other items that we cannot imagine not having access to.
People in your community, people you’ve never met before, are also likely to help.
Pauline Carpenter of the Free Clinic provided space for doctors at Hendersonville Pediatrics four days a week. Richard Hudspeth and the Blue Ridge Health Authority allowed us to rent an office for two doctors to stay five days a week.
But these places are not homes. At home, four doctors were seeing more than 100 children every weekday. People say they love children. But they don’t like hearing them scream or cry. We are always worried: are we quiet enough? Are they going to kick us out? It’s something we can’t control. So we just keep working.
The disaster is not over for us yet. It won’t last for many years. It probably never will be, because things will never be the same as they were before. From now on, we know that disasters can occur.
What should we do until then? It’s up to our communities to rebuild, become the backbone, and become powerful. In our office, it was amazing how supervisors took action to bring order to our practice. Staff have rescheduled and everyone is available to help rebuild labs, supplies, and vaccine stocks. That’s the beauty of this kind of destruction. Neighbors helping neighbors. People are there for others. To exist. Being in the moment.
This was written for the Zocalo Public Square.
