(Editor’s note: This letter to the editor was received very soon after the disaster and is a snapshot of that tragic experience.)
Dear Editor,
The remnants of hurricane Helene obliterated this area of North Carolina. In some places, it resembles a warzone. Typically, after a raucous storm in this area, my wife and I can anticipate maybe a twenty-four to thirty-six-hour turnaround to have our lives back to normal.
“Hey, everybody! We have Wi-Fi!”
But not this time, sweetheart. This ginormous gale commenced with three tropical depressions coming together over the warm waters of the Gulf, fighting it out to produce one ill- as-a-hornet hurricane. Now, in our second day of wondering where in the world are those work trucks, it is slowly sinking in: We are in for a long-haul of waiting and waiting and likely even more waiting.
The aftermath of nature’s meteorological tantrum has transported us back to a distant date and time, when life was simple; people were friendly and helpful. We were left desolate, and our dependency upon modern accoutrements and their warranted constrictions on our lifestyles were brutally exposed. Without realizing it, overtime, we have been hooked and controlled by the conformity to modernization and its devices.
Right away, we were forced to seek help from our neighbors, the people in and around our local neighborhood. Not only did we suddenly begin to communicate with them, but we generated new bonds based on common goals and projects.
After Helene’s outburst, our neighborhood had no immediate exit from our road, so we had to drive our vehicles though the yard of a neighbor three-doors down. One person’s car got stuck in the mud. Like ants whose nest had been violated and stirred, we all converged on the car and proceeded to devise a plan of getting the car out of the muddy terrain. It wasn’t long that the joint body of our neighborhood and local surroundings with one push eased the car to solid ground. One lady, who lives with her sisters down the road, who we had noticed numerous times in the past but never interacted with, was covered with mud from head to toe from helping to free the car. She even laughed about it. So, did we all.
With no access to our modern appliances, we began to formulate ideas from our family and neighbors. We found a way to obtain drinking water and purchased some for our next-door neighbors. For some reason, politics and personal preferences went right out the door. Religious preferences perished on the steps of purpose. No one cared. It didn’t matter. One of our neighbors even stealthily removed their political yard signs. We were all neighbors. We had no electricity. We had no Wi-Fi. We had no HDMI 4K. We did, however, have community.
One family across from us had a fully functional generator. They attached an extension cord, so we could charge our various devices. Of course, once charged, we had no use for the so-called smart phones and gadgets. They were useless, even quite frustrating. Our debit cards were out- of-date. Meaningless. We were demanded to have cold cash for anything we bought. After all, in the early twentieth century, no one possessed Apple Pay.
After days of waiting and waiting, we are still waiting. Today will be another day of meshing with our fellow Americans, discovering brothers and sisters who love their freedom and comradery. Yet, it won’t be long now, until we hear the cry: “We have power!” And with that, we gravitate back into our isolated lives of modernization. I’m online! Then, we will roll up the extension cords, activate our AC, close all our windows and doors to the outside community, draw the curtains, pick up our smart devices, turn on cable TV, shroud ourselves in a cloak of self-centeredness, and say farewell to our neighbors and the simple tastes of yesteryear.
Sincerely,
Jerry Mullinax
