Western North Carolina was devastated by Hurricane Helene, which killed over 80 people at time of writing. The city of Asheville, and particularly its outer limits, has suffered loss of life and collapse of infrastructure.
Chapters of the Democratic Socialists of America have been organizing mutual aid and support to address impact, and fallout, of the Hurricane. NC chapters are currently involved in fundraising, coordinating, participating in logistics efforts and developing communications to coordinate broader statewide relief. You can donate directly to NC DSA' coordinated Disaster Relief Mutual Aid Fund here.
The following is an accounting of NC Triangle DSA member Mika Murphy's experience delivering support and aid to Asheville and its surrounding regions. Originally written as a dispatch to the membership of NC Triangle DSA, we've republished here to document organizing efforts and to inform any future mutual aid organizing by DSA chapters in the future.
I BEGAN MY DAY at 8am by checking my packed bag and figuring out transportation to the U-Haul facility to pick up the truck I reserved. I reached out to a comrade in the neighborhood and asked if they could give me a ride. I had planned several days in advance to make a drop of water, diapers, and buckets to Klondyke Homes, a predominantly Black public housing complex, where Asheville DSA would manage distribution. In addition, I offered to make a delivery to wherever Mutual Aid Disaster Relief asked me to because they met my request for water.
In planning conversations I had days prior to this delivery, one thing kept coming up: concerns over safety. I want to state clearly that my experience going into Asheville from the South by way of I-26 and exiting by way of I-40 was very easy and safe. I planned ahead and made sure my route was passable by the 20 foot truck I rented and received confirmation that the main roads were clear. That certainly matches my experience. It was easy to get where local comrades had indicated I should be. I will say I made a wrong turn and traveled down a one-way road that was blocked at the end. I am, however, quite a good driver as that is what I did for work through the pandemic. Future aid drops should make sure folks who are heading up are capable drivers, but overall the roads between the mountain cities of Asheville and Fletcher were very easy to navigate. Roads in rural areas were in worse shape.
Returning to the events of the day, it was quite easy to rent a U-Haul. But, as I would soon learn, U-Hauls can be inefficient in transporting some goods, specifically water. U-Hauls have quite a low weight rating, so carrying significant amounts of water with any kind of box truck will pose an issue to our organizing efforts overall. In the future, this means we need to identify either (a) a delivery vessel for specifically and only water or (b) an apparatus to purify and clean water up in the mountains, eliminating the need for a long supply chain.
I arrived at the Mutual Aid Disaster Relief (MADR) warehouse in Hillsborough, North Carolina at 9:50am. Though I planned the pickup time several days in advance, upon arrival I learned that they had little stock leftover. There was another driver onsite ready to set out on delivery, but we reached an agreement to load the truck I brought because my timeline was a bit shorter and I had specific destinations for specific goods. I want to emphasize that again, I had specific destinations for specific goods which provided strong justification for my delivery when engaging with our mutual aid partners.
After loading up water, diapers, buckets, detergent, brooms, pet supplies, detergent and blankets, I left around 11am (roughly one hour needed for large pickups). I departed to Fletcher, my first stop, by way of the 85-74-26 highway route. The ride was smooth and easy; gas was actually cheaper than where I live. There were no checkpoints anywhere.
Strangely, there was nothing amiss until just outside of Fletcher, save for some washed out river banks. The town itself seemed to sustain some damage along their main thoroughfare. Cell service was spotty so I began to use the physical maps I printed out to navigate through the town. Soon, I arrived at my destination, a church, Calvary Episcopal Church, that had an enormous community kitchen about the size of Raleigh United Mutual Aid Hub (RUMAH). They were a little confused but extremely excited when I told them that I was there with an aid delivery from Mutual Aid Disaster Relief and that I was a member of the Democratic Socialists of America. (It seems the information for where the aid should go made it all the way through but the information that aid would be arriving had not.) They were beyond happy at the assortment of necessary supplies I brought and so thankful that folks from Durham cared about them. One gave me a huge hug, and another remarked “Oh, Durham? That’s the city of angels, saved my life more than once.” I really enjoyed meeting these folk even though it was brief, and received the church pastor’s number in case we’d like to work with them more in the future. Some parts of my aid was turned away with directions to take it further North "where they need it.” So, one thing I learned is that anyone we meet will have valuable information about where needs are.
After departing, I began my trek up to Asheville where I met up with Clarke, the Asheville DSA chair, to deliver requested items to Klondyke Homes. The items they requested were the bare necessities: water, diapers and buckets. Delivering was awesome! When Clarke told them he had an aid delivery coming, they thought it would just be a small truck delivering a bit of water and diapers, instead we loaded them up and they couldn’t take any more of those donations afterwards, and a worker from the Asheville Housing Authority was happy to accept the aide. (In the process, I also learned the difference between distilled and purified water. Distilled water, very much not for drinking, is used to flush toilets and boil things.) I also met Asheville DSA endorsed city councilor Kim Roney, who was quite the character. Kim had actually been in touch with two city councilors in our neck of the woods from Durham, Javiera Caballero (current) and Jillian Johnson (previous), who were able to hook her up with a number to get faster engagement with their water rebuild effort. I also learned that the Food and Beverage Union of Asheville, which is chaired by a DSA member, is helping in communities throughout the city.
As I made these drops, met these kind folk and wandered the beautiful mountains, it became clear that Asheville would be alright. Indeed, Asheville was already alright. Though the city is without water and regular life is in some disarray, the people of North Carolina had brought abundance to the region through mutual aid.
It is not Asheville that will need our help. Rather, Asheville is a staging area to assist and make inroads with some of the most rural and isolated communities in our country, our kinfolk in the hollers. That is what we must be aiming for, to build relationships with a beating heart of historical American resistance, the people of Appalachia.
And so, the day went on. Clarke brought me back to his place where his friends were gathering in community, playing music and preparing to share a vegetarian dinner. Many of the folks in Asheville were doing the same. The disaster had done the opposite of COVID. Instead of forcing people apart, it had forced them together in the spontaneous protection and connection that only circumstance can provide. Like flowers, I was hearing from folks that these gatherings sprang up wherever you were. In community together, caring for one another, sharing in space over meals to support one another, people were finding solace in one another.
I left, chile relleno in hand. I had one last task to evacuate a friend of a friend back to Durham for a warm shower. We had a long time to talk in the car, four hours long to be exact. Over the course of that drive it was reiterated again, in the darkness, community provided a light. My car-mrade, N, had met, for the first time, their neighbor over a shared meal, over an offer of kindness. It turns out their neighbor was a brother of their long-time high school frenemy which they bonded over! Later, N would tell me that they worked at a local grocery store that stayed open to help folks out and that they had been attending regular community meetings at Firestorm Co-op. Again it pops up! Democracy in action! Spontaneous assemblies to organize their people.
I hope beyond hope that the communal seeds sown by this disaster continue to blossom and provide abundance. There is much to be done but I left feeling that the world may blow apart and still we’ll have each other.
