Some Guy Says
Stories from the Storm part 2
Oooh Law!
I’m late, I’m late for a very important date...
...with you!
Apologies! I’m about a week behind in getting this up...but...let me just tell you –
Since the inauguration of just one week and one day ago, I am all wrung out. I mean it! I have been stopped dead in my tracks by watching while our country quickly becomes something else.
In my last post, I said that I thought that I had a whole lot to say about the election, but I decided to skip it.
I’m still going to skip it – mostly – but elections have consequences, and I do want to talk about those. I do want to pick up the thread of that last post by talking about the world in North Carolina post Helene and maybe a little bit more since Inauguration Day.
You see, on Friday of last week, the president came to North Carolina to see for himself the aftermath of The Storm’s destruction.
He had already been in the area once after The Storm hit, about 10 days before the election. He was with Some Guy from the Cajun Navy. They appeared together in Swannanoa, which is a tiny little town, home to Warren Wilson College, about 10 miles down the road.
Swannanoa was among the hardest hit places in the storm. I would argue – and I bet you would, too – that it has been wiped out.
Look. See?
Here’s a story about Swannanoa –
Well, actually, it’s about my friend, Landon, but he lives in Swannanoa...so...
The morning after the storm, I called to check in on him. Landon is spry and active and sharp for his age. (I hate to say it like that, I do, but it is so – he had a big birthday that week which marked his number as even bigger than mine…and mine is big!)
He told me that he had been awakened early by the sound of his neighbors calling for help. He went outside and found them on the roof of their house. The road separating them had become a river, and that river was sweeping picnic tables, bicycles, cars – SUVs and trucks even – anything that wasn’t nailed down, and some things that were, and dumping it all into the Swannanoa River below where the bridge had been washed out and away.
He told me that he didn’t have power, water, or Internet...just the phone. He told me hadn’t been able to reach his brother, Scott, who also lives nearby. He told me he was worried.
Where I live in Asheville, I wasn’t able really to tell that much had happened. That was all about to change once I stepped outside, but in that moment it still just didn’t seem like a big deal to me, and I wonder now if Landon might have been agitated that I didn’t seem to get what he was trying to say.
But Landon is a jazzer. He’s cool...like...so cool. To me he seems unflappable but never disengaged, maybe a tad disdainful but always wry and funny. So, it was no small matter when he said to me with some urgency, “I think I have a problem. I need to make a plan! What’s your plan?”
And that’s when the line went dead.
I didn’t hear from him for another three or four days – and a worrisome few days they were. Finally, he called from Little Bobby’s place in Jacksonville to let me know that he and Scott were together, safe and sound.
That was good news for me. Landon is one of the Top Big Deal People in my life. My regard for him is immense, and his impact on me is incalculable.
In some good news for Landon, his home suffered minimal, if any, property damage. But, as I said, the bad news is that Swannanoa had pretty much floated away and a wreckage of twisted metal and smashed up concrete and shattered trees was left behind.
To this very day, to drive through Swannanoa on SR70 between Asheville and Black Mountain is to have your heart broken all over again.
And so this is the scene where we find the president and someone from the Cajun Navy for a pre-election rally.
Do you know how much money it takes to move a president through a disaster area? I can’t even begin to imagine except to say that it is a lot! A real lot of money that could have been used in so many more thoughtful and helpful ways.
Especially when you consider what was said to the rally-goers.
These good people were mostly suffering, struggling mountain folk who, through no fault of their own, had lost so much...too much...maybe everything they had: homes, people, pets, cars, tools, livelihoods and life’s work and so much more. All of us were gobsmacked. Many of us didn’t know where our next meal was coming from. None of us had any water.
To these good people, the Cajun Navy Guy said, “Do Not Accept Any FEMA Money! If you accept any FEMA money, you are liable to lose your home. If you accept anything from the government, the government can come and take all you have.”
The president said nary a word. But he bounced up and down on his presumably little feet and rocked back and forth on his tiny heels and smiled in that snaky way that he does.
And then this past Friday he was back.
He was given a fresh tour of the area, and then he met with the press.
“North Carolina is a disaster,” he said.
And then he tore into FEMA.
“ FEMA has been a very big disappointment. They cost a tremendous amount of money. It's very bureaucratic and it's very slow. Other than that, we're very happy with them.”
He went on to complain that FEMA got here after the fact, didn’t know the roads, didn’t know the territory, didn’t know the people, didn’t know who to talk to.
His solution is to dismantle FEMA. To dissolve it. To let the states handle it for themselves.
A friend writes: “The narrative that FEMA didn’t help NC is infuriating. FEMA employees risked their lives to come check on us and take care of us.”
Typically, FEMA assistance is requested by governors when the scope of a disaster overwhelms what a state is able to do.
In our case, the request was made before The Storm got here. FEMA workers were here before The Storm got here. Plans, supplies, and trucks were visible before The Storm got here. For those who requested housing and emergency assistance, hotel room vouchers and cash were directly deposited into our accounts usually within minutes of applying for assistance.
What no one seems to understand, least of all the president, is that this was a Really Big Storm, and no one expected it to come here. The Storm made landfall out of the Gulf of Mexico nearly 500 miles away, and weathercasters predicted a sharp turn to the west by maybe 50 to 100 miles south of us. But it came here, and once it got here it sat on top of us for four hours.
Once it moved out there were, in many cases, no roads for FEMA, for anyone, to navigate. They had fallen off the sides of mountains or broken apart and washed away in rivers. People were carried away and found later up in mangled trees or crushed under debris. As I shared in the last post, you still can’t get to the big box stores on Tunnel Road in any direct way.
And you still can’t.
FEMA brought in workers and trucks from Iowa and Louisiana and even Canada. One day when I found myself at Ginny’s place, about 40 minutes away, there was a collection of three utility vehicles gathered at the bottom of her driveway. These folks were from Idaho. They were trying to get up the mountain – where mudslides had taken out the landscape – to rescue people and restore electricity. Not knowing the conditions of the roads, they sent some explorers out to discover if the trucks could get up the hill, and if they could, could they turn around and get out safely? There was never a question about whether people would be helped; the question was How? I marveled at the care and concern and determination of FEMA – people we did not know – who were dedicated to our relief!
Yes, mister president, North Carolina IS a disaster.
And it would have been so much worse without FEMA.
It must be a luxurious thing to have so much money – to have always had so much money – that all you think you have to do to get something done is to throw so much money at it! To never have to have a thought or an impulse toward kindness or care or strategy because...so much money.
Just fix it. Sign the check. Git ‘er done.
Or don’t.
Turn the money spigot off and watch people suffer and squirm and beg to get that spigot turned on again. “I’ll do anything you say, mister, just make it stop hurting me and my family.”
Have mercy!
Folks. I hate to say it, but I believe we are in a pickle.
The money coupled with the executive orders coming out of Washington is confusing just as it is intentional, strategic and designed to make us angry and fearful. It is a kind of perfect storm of its own, like no other, and it might be effective.
But
In the middle of this storm, there are things we can do.
Here are some good thoughts for you --
* On a recent podcast for Red Wine and Blue, Heather Cox Richardson stated: It is ok to step away from politics for a while, but it’s not ok to stop bringing your best to the world. Whatever you do best, do it with great joy!
* Shine your light right where you are. Give someone a word of encouragement, share a meal, ask folks, How are you? What do you need?
* Find some time to be still and quiet.
* Read! Here is a civil resistance reading list where you can find words of encouragement and relevant ideas to consider that aren’t the news.
* Reach out to your leaders. Talk to them. At www.govtrack.us you can find contact information on your state’s elected delegation so that you can communicate to their offices the things you see, the things you want, and the things you need.
Go to your app store and download the 5 Calls app. It will put you in direct contact with your federally elected officials and even give you a quick script to use so you can talk to them effectively. Do this every day.
* Give Money! Money is not always the answer, but it is certainly a tool. Think about contributing to
Find a nonprofit in your world or neighborhood and make a donation. Trust me - in the chaos of the day, your nonprofit needs your support.
* And I am so not kidding about this one: sing a song you love everyday. Throw in a dance step or two. I promise: if everyone in the world sang a song and danced some steps, we would all instantly be better.
More good options are coming your way, in the meantime, you are welcome to post words of encouragement and cheer, your ideas for showing up with joy, and your aspirations toward beauty and truth in the comments below.
I’d love to hear from you!
Some Guy Says is written by Robert Arleigh White and distributed via Substack twice a month.
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