Pleas for help, for food or water. Drone footage of buildings with river water nearly covering them. Photos of interstates washed out. Shocking stories and immense worry for people, homes, businesses.
At dawn Monday, a friend and I went to the grocery for dry goods. We spent two-plus hours in line since the store was letting only 10 people in at a time. And it was only taking cash. (Who has much cash on hand? A lesson learned.)
Finally, late Monday, our phones started pinging with push alerts. Service. Three sweet bars of LTE at the house. We caught up on news, on NFL scores.
I started looking up photos of Ashevilleās River Arts District, of Swannanoa, Black Mountain and Chimney Rock Village. Iāve run out of ways to describe the tremendous damage.
To conserve gas, I havenāt ventured far by car, except for a run to my husbandās office in Hendersonville, which had running water. The lines at stations with fuel, or the promise of it, have stretched to a mile long.
Now, on day five, larger streets in my narrow walking range are generally cleared and quiet, many residents having fled to stay with family or friends. Helicopters fly overhead at least once every couple of hours, presumably the National Guard. The thump of the low-flying ones, some Hueys, make the crystal wine glasses on our shelf rattle.
I try to listen on our old-school radio to the twice-daily press briefings from Buncombe County. Without regular internet itās been the only way to get reliable information.
The three bars of LTE signal are back down to two, which may let in an occasional SMS.
https://thehill.com/homenews/state-watc ... ds-helene/