Helene and Rumors of Helene: Pt. 1 of 2
Note: I wrote the following newsletters in the aftermath of Helene and before the election. I know that your mind is probably turned to threats of fascism right now, but we can't take our eyes off of climate change and the disasters that follow. I have said this a million times and will say it a million more: these tragedies will only get worse, and more pervasive. Following these scheduled posts, I will be taking a few weeks off to ash my burnout. When/If will return in the New Year.
There is quite a lot to unpack when it comes to Hurricane Helene. We've got the unexpected nature of the disaster that struck North Carolina far from the Atlantic coast and the role of climate change in its severity; the incredible work of mutual aid that was marshalled in Asheville; the lackluster start of federal response and the animosity it engendered–and the militias that went hunting for FEMA workers; and, related, the conspiracy theories and sort of general animosity that's arisen from the storm.
Helene was a major storm, but not the biggest or worst we've ever seen by a sight. Which ought to tell you something: it doesn't take a category 5, or 4, or even a hurricane at all to wreak the kind of havoc that can kill hundreds and upset the lives of hundreds of thousands. And it's not necessary to be in a traditionally storm-prone location for one to hit you, or for some other kind of disaster to strike. We have come to live in a world that is more vulnerable than we realize. And, before I leave this thought: natural disasters are also just one way that this world has become vulnerable. But that's a subject for all the other weeks of this letter.
You could write a whole book about Helene, I'm sure, and I'm sure someone is already at work on it–rightly so. Hopefully it's one of Asheville's anarchists. But in the meantime, let's do a shallow-dive on what hopefully proves to be the worst storm of 2024. This will be broken into two parts: what and how Helene did what it did to North Carolina, and what you should do to prepare for something similar.
Helene as Portent of Storms to Come
As of this writing, Helene's death toll is 224. The majority of these deaths occurred in North Carolina, but Helene killed basically wherever it touched: South Carolina, Virginia, Georgia, and Florida all reported casualties. In North Carolina, thousands are still without power, and many residents don't have running water. The entire city of Asheville is under a boil advisory, almost a month out. What's more, 26 people are still unaccounted for.
Before Helene had even arrived in North Carolina, parts of the state were already suffering around a foot of rainfall, and the soil and bodies of water were at capacity. Without that storm, Helene may not have been the wrecking ball that it became. I don't say this as a comfort, though–we too frequently hear of intense rainfall in the South battering cities and towns in ways that previously were much rarer occurrences. The truth of the matter is the simple fact that as the planet warms, storms become stronger. Warm air holds more moisture than cold, and the warmer it gets the more moisture it can hold. The same holds true for the frequency of storms, too, as the more energy the atmosphere contains, the greater the odds of instability, which fuels the creation of storms.
What this means is that a Helene-type scenario doesn't require the kind of long-odds that it used to; this will be a more frequent event. And Helene's wreckage of communities in deep-inland Appalachia destroys the idea of climate havens as popularly understood–or at least, as marketed. Nowhere is safe. There's only safer.
The power and speed of the destruction that Helene brought to communities like Asheville is due in part to the shape of that landscape. As you might have learned in high school, mountains can exacerbate or create precipitation by pushing moisture-laden air upward, into colder regions of the atmosphere, where that moisture cools and condenses into rain that may not have otherwise fallen. Already waterlogged hills and swollen creeks and rivers sloughed off that increased rainfall and it quickly turned into powerful flash floods. Firsthand accounts are out there if you look for them, and they are harrowing. Apartment buildings in Asheville were swept away in the span of minutes, not hours. There are multiple videos of people standing outside and watching a flash flood pour out of the surrounding countryside and sweep away vehicles in seconds.
Helene's effects don't end there. The tropical-storm force winds, the force of floodwaters, and probably to a much lesser extent the soaking of the floodwater itself, has obliterated large swaths of trees in what is a heavily-forested region. Without those trees holding onto the soil, mudslides and flooding in the future are much more likely.
What You Can Do
Other than contribute to mutual aid efforts in the area, you should definitely be thinking about prepping for disasters like this. It genuinely does not matter where you live–while you yourself may not be at risk of your home coming off its foundations and floating downstream, it's almost guaranteed your community, wherever it is, could be destroyed this way.
Your first step is determining your risk. Do so at a site like (FEMA). Don't pay a lot of mind to the various flood levels, as ultimately their determinations of 100 year floods and the like are either useless or off by a factor of ten. Assume if you're anywhere near a body of water, no matter how small, that you could be flooded. Assume that if you're in any kind of low-lying area, that you could be flooded. Assume if you're on any kind of hill or holler or anywhere with steep changes in elevation that you can get flash-flooded. These are safe assumptions, and we're being abundantly cautious.
Your next step is making a flood plan. For some of you, this may include purchasing flood insurance; as more and more areas become at risk, you may find this a worthwhile expense and also find that your current insurance does not cover flood damage*. If you are anywhere near a coast, start thinking about the fact that this insurance is either going to become difficult to afford or impossible to acquire in the near future.
The next step in your plan is to plot your physical safety. This can be tricky, as the best way to avoid being caught in a flood is to not be near one, and predicting such an event–particularly a catastrophic one, is difficult. Nevertheless, your plan should include evacuation, and thus evacuation routes–you'll want, naturally, to take and maintain high ground until floodwaters abate. If you are evacuating during the start of a flood, be extremely mindful that it takes much less water than you think to carry a vehicle–a foot can float most cars, and two will sweep them away.
Your last step is preparing your home or apartment for a flood. Unless you're truly well-prepped, this does not mean you're buying a thousand sandbags and surrounding your home. What it means is stocking the upper-level (if you have one) of your home with lifejackets, including for any pets, and potentially a raft or inflatable boat–taking care to purchase one that is durable, as floodwaters are full of debris that will have a pool toy deflated in moments. Additionally, if you're choosing to store these items in your attic, you'll want to keep an ax up there as well–many would-be survivors flee to their attic and drown because they are trapped.
*Yes, this is the most banal thing I've ever said here.