Progress in Action!

Yesterday was a celebration of recovery and experiencing it was life-changing, glorious and emotional.

The Whitson Ave bridge IS the primary artery between the main two roads in Swannanoa crossing over the Swannanoa River. Everything forks off of Old 70 and 70 and Whitson Ave connects them. Helene grabbed the bridge like a woman scorned and marched on. Cars, vans and trucks landed on the banks of the river. Our community has watched with hope and gratitude as construction crews work daily to restore key infrastructure.

Yesterday the bridge reopened in the grand way it deserved. I stood alongside strangers with goosebumps as the crowd grew gathering along Hwy 70. Swannanoa isn’t a munipality so there were no police to block the roads. Citizens simply stepped out into 5 lanes of traffic to allow a few community leaders to gather around the bridge. Cars and trucks realized why we were there and greeted us with honks and waves.

I smiled, waved to the vehicles and glanced at the lady beside me commenting on the power of the moment. She stuck her hand out “I’m Deb, I live on XYZ ST In Swannanoa. I noticed her shirt with the outline of our state and the word “home” inside the outline. I asked about her home. She freely shared details of her harrowing night, going underwater to save her goats and expressing endless gratitude that her home remained less than an inch from water taking over. She laughing said “goats can’t swim, if you ever need to know that”. The stories live on and we still need to share with those willing to listen. It helps to find people who understand and those just willing to try to understand. The most shocking thing I have discovered about this are the people who blow us off, tell me to stop sharing the truth and don’t even ask. People I assumed would care and would ask, remain silent and ignorant. This day was not the kind of an experience where people don’t care. It was SO far from that. In fact as I moved closer to the road for a better view another stranger stuck out her hand “Hi I’m Beth and I live on XYZ ST Swannanoa”. Helene has broken us down and broken down barriers. We know we all have this catastrophic event in common and we value each other in new ways.

At high noon it was time for the big event! We aren’t fancy people up here. The ribbon was caution tape, ironic and appropriate. Caution tape is easy to find around here. Why worry with yellow shiny ribbon? We don’t waste anything around here. Together we counted down, horns honked and with a quick snip infrastructure was restored. The oldest survivor in Swannanoa drove (yes HE drove himself) across the bridge for the ceremonial passing! Again citizens had to stop traffic to let him cross the intersection. Amusing to say the least, but that’s WNC now. We just see what needs to be done and do it. I wept. Most people did. We witnessed progress while standing beside debris, a dump truck hauling debris and an excavator actively moved debris. Recovery in its rawest form all happening at the same time. It was a LOT to take in.

We moved back into the parking lot of a nearby business and off the debris still ankle deep around Beacon Veterinary Hospital. Live music took center stage and the crowd milled about. I watched hugs, tears and joy flood, yes I said flood, Swannanoa.

Deb and I continued visiting. Turns out she sells her homemade soaps at the Swannanoa Farmers Market where we shopped Saturday. Go see her! She even has a soap called “Hell or High Water”. Buy from her and help her recover. She’s been here over 20 years and she said no matter what she has been through she’s not leaving. She pointed at her shirt and said “This is home”. Those three words mean so much more to me after Helene. For the hundreds gathered, this is home and we aren’t going anywhere. We reached out and embraced each other before leaving. Hell and high water came but humanity rose up and collectively said “You will not beat us down”. We continue to link arms, determined to do the hard work for ourselves and each other. No one here is in this alone and we all know it. We feel it. We live it daily.

I jumped back in the car and as if I needed another reminder that there is a God directing all these moving parts “Carolina On My Mind” came on the radio. I wept, again, and I smiled with a little snicker. Yea, I see you God and You see us. You will indeed give us the power, grace and energy to come back. No, it won’t be the same and we won’t be the same, ever. But we march on with our eyes only facing forward.

There’s a sign alongside Hwy 70 that always makes me honk. It says “Look at you, you’re tired, but you ain’t giving up! Honk if you ❤️”. On this day I responded with shouts and honks and a little nod in agreement. We ain’t giving up, come hell or high water. WE ARE WNC STRONG!