A Hurricane, a Stroke, and the Church
Guest Writer: Alan Schlesinger
A week before Hurricane Helene hit our community in Western North Carolina, my wife Paula and I flew to Brooklyn to meet our first grandchild. Less than twenty-four hours after we arrived, we got a call that Paula’s 94-year-old mother had suffered a devastating stroke. We returned on the next flight. Although she received immediate state-of-the-art care, including emergent thrombectomy and anti-coagulation, she failed to improve, and the doctors and Paula and her brother had to make difficult decisions regarding whether to pursue aggressive rehabilitation or hospice care.
Before enough time elapsed to make a final decision, one week after the stroke, Hurricane Helene devastated Western North Carolina, including our community in Asheville. Our neighborhood is heavily wooded and was particularly hard hit with literally thousands of trees blown down. We had at least 40 trees down on our own property, including one that landed on our house (thankfully with minor damage). We had no power, internet, or cell service to allow us to reach our family and friends.
For more than a day, we could not reach the end of the driveway, let alone our street. After the fire department and many residents cleared a narrow lane to leave the neighborhood, we could not reach the hospital (only 5 miles from our house) due to flooding. We had to drive nearly an hour, use precious gasoline at a time when no gas stations were open, and take a circuitous route to reach the hospital.
I dropped Paula and her brother off at the hospital to check on her mother, and I pursued cell service to contact our children and friends, who I knew must be worried. I was given many tips by people I encountered: try Pack Square in the center of town, try the sidewalks outside certain hotels, etc. I went from place to place but could not get service.
Ready to give up and drive home, I felt a need to check on our downtown church a few blocks away—First Presbyterian Church, Asheville. To my surprise, when I walked into the church, I was greeted by our associate pastor and found a half dozen church members on cell phones, tablets, and laptops. There was power and internet connectivity. Using WiFi-enabled calling, I could talk to my children and friends and let them know, after more than 24 hours without contact, that we were safe. I told our associate pastor how I had first tried to get cell service, chasing tips and rumors without success. Still, I eventually inexplicably found myself drawn to the church, where I found everything I needed. Half-joking, I told him he could certainly find a sermon in that story.
There has been unfathomable devastation here in Western North Carolina, and I was amazed on a daily basis by the grit of our community as people worked tirelessly to help each other. People with chainsaws cut up downed trees. Others, including children, stacked logs and carried away debris. People shared precious food and water. Despite being stressed and stretched thin, the doctors, nurses, and other healthcare workers helped Paula and her brother make the decision to place their mother in Hospice care, where she is now comfortable.
I will always appreciate how everyone banded together to help one other, but I certainly will never forget how I was drawn to our church on that overwhelming first day, and how I found everything I needed in that place.
If you want to help Ashville, The River Arts District was heavily hit. There is a River Arts District Artist Foundation (RADA):
https://riverartsdistrict.com/donate/
Also, the Red Cross at
https://www.redcross.org
Alan
Joanna joannaseibert.com