One Year After Hurricane Helene: Remembering How We Held On
- Devin Coxwell
- Oct 1, 2025
- 2 min read
It’s hard to believe that a year has already passed since Hurricane Helene ripped through our towns, our homes, and our hearts. The memories are still raw…two to three weeks without power, no cell service to call loved ones, waiting in hours-long lines for gas, rationing food and bottled water, and holding our breath with each passing storm cloud.
Helene didn’t just destroy buildings and roads; it stripped away the sense of “normal” we all took for granted. The silence after the winds roared was eerie…streets dark at night, families cooking on grills in the yard, neighbors sharing what little ice or fuel they had. And yet, even in the middle of devastation, something remarkable happened: we leaned on one another.
Communities That Stood Together
In small towns across our state, strangers became family overnight. Churches opened their doors as shelters. Farmers gave away produce when grocery shelves sat empty. Neighbors knocked on doors, checking on the elderly and making sure kids had food. Local businesses, even without power themselves, handed out supplies and meals.
Helene reminded us that resilience isn’t built on what we have…it’s built on who we have. And in those dark weeks, we had each other.
One Year Later
Now, here we are…one year later. Life feels “normal” again. The lights are back on, the cell towers are humming, and gas pumps are full. But it’s easy to forget the way we clung to one another when all of that was gone. Too often, we’ve gone back to our routines as if we never lived through those agonizing weeks.
The truth is, we can’t let that unity slip away. Hurricane Helene taught us that the strength of small towns, and even entire states, isn’t measured by what we lose, but by how we come together in the aftermath.
A Call to Remember
As we mark this anniversary, let’s not just mourn what was lost, but honor what we found in each other. Compassion. Community. Grit. Love. Those are the things worth carrying forward, long after the debris has been cleared.
Because when the next storm comes, and it will, it won’t be the power lines or the cell towers that save us. It will be the same thing that carried us through Helene: each other.








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