Hurricane-torn residents in western North Carolina try to guide recovery despite feeling voiceless at times

Debris removal in western North Carolina is messy business.
(FEMA photo)

After Hurricane Helene pummeled western North Carolina in September 2024, it left a trail of wrecked buildings, broken plumbing, downed electrical lines, flooded homes, rancid water, and mud everywhere. For area residents still working to restore their lives and land, their post-disaster experience can be summed up in a word: Messy.

"Helene brought extreme flooding and landslides to southern Appalachia, killing 108 people and causing $60 billion in damage in western North Carolina alone," report Katie Meyers and Izzy Ross of Grist. "It also reshaped rivers and landscapes, littering them with everything from garbage and trees to cars and homes."

Residents working to restore their neighborhoods sometimes land in the crosshairs of "contractors and subcontractors, officials at every level of government, and an alphabet soup of agencies," Meyers and Ross write. Crews and public authorities can show up unannounced, leaving community members unsure of who is in charge of what.

Debris removal has posed multiple challenges for residents trying to protect the land and its wildlife. Meyers and Ross explain, "Because contractors are paid by the weight of waste removed or by the linear foot of ground covered, there can be a struggle to balance expediency and ecological care," Grist reports. The massive amount of trees and limbs that needed removal from the region's waterways "sparked arguments about what constitutes debris, what ought to be cleared, and what might be better left alone."

Transylvania County may have avoided a direct assault from Hurricane Helene, but the Army Corps "earmarked some $66 million for debris removal there," Meyers and Ross add. County officials have been frustrated by the lack of collaboration. Transylvania County Manager Jamie Laughter told Grist, "The county has not had a role in directing the contractors’ work, assessing regulatory compliance or how they go about their work because that falls to [the Army Corps]."

Scientists who live in the community have also felt ignored. "When Hans Lohmeyer, a biologist with Conserving Carolina, tried to help [the Corps], he was rebuffed," Grist reports. "He showed Grist photographs of riverbanks littered with crushed elktoe mussels, which are endangered, and stumps of what he said were healthy trees."