This article is part of Times Opinion’s Giving Guide 2024.Read more in a note from Times Opinion’s editor, Kathleen Kingsbury.For a lot of reasons that seem silly in hindsight, as Hurricane Helene had begun to cut a path through North Carolina and Tennessee, a friend and I drove into the Appalachian Mountains.
Because the interstates were shutting down as we drove, the GPS device took us through dark, winding back roads that tested my faith in technology.At one point, I had to pull over to manage my anxiety.Alongside me, one of those luxury pickup trucks built for comfort and status pulled up; the driver motioned for me to roll down my window.
I thought about serial killers briefly before cracking it just an inch.In that moment, I met a local West Virginia family who was out checking on neighbors, because the wind had felled trees and power lines, leaving people stranded.After I explained why I was in their neck of the woods, the family insisted on leading me out of the treacherous mountains and down to the main highway.
And that’s what we did.For almost 45 minutes, a white family with all the trappings of rural life inched along at 15 or so miles an hour to deliver me to safer ground.It is said that Americans pull together in the wake of disaster.
I have seen it after hurricanes, during Covid-19 and in the moments after a school shooting.We are divided.
We are competitors for capitalistic spoils.We are often enemies.
But something about a natural disaster calls to our shared humanity.That is what I have seen since Hurricane Helene.All the disinformation and destruction aside, my friends and colleagues who were in the storm’s path have drawn on the community that makes the South my home.
Appalachian people, in particular, are proud of helping one another survive.We are having trouble retrieving the article content.Please enable JavaScript in your browser settings.Thank you for your patience while we verify access.If you are in Reader mode please exit...