When Hurricane Helene hit Western North Carolina in late September, the small town of Canton in the Southern Appalachian Mountains just west of Asheville took a big hit.
The violent storm and subsequent flooding took out trees, cell service and internet. Roads were blocked, flooded or badly damaged. The creeks that crisscross the mountains formed new beds and carved new passages throughout the area. Many homes, lives and livelihoods were lost.
But Rev. Esta Jarrett, sole pastor at Canton Presbyterian Church, a congregation of less than 50, was far from isolated and unprepared. She had her network of pastors and church family – Presbyterian and beyond – to lean on during times of crisis.
Canton Presbyterian sits high on a hill in the town of little more than 4,000 and overlooks its historic paper mill. Because of its high and dry location, the church became a safe haven and space for volunteers to stay as it miraculously kept power and running water throughout the storm and afterward.
Canton is one of 92 congregations in the Presbytery of Western North Carolina, all of which were impacted in some way by Helene, says General Presbyter Rev. Byron Wade. Five counties in the north-central part of the presbytery were the hardest hit. Some congregations were very badly damaged, like Marshall Presbyterian Church, while others did what they could to help and serve in the midst of their own loss. First Presbyterian Church in Asheville lost water supply but had power and wifi, so it became “a hub of communication and community,” Jarrett says. Black Mountain Presbyterian Church, on the east side of Asheville, put their gas burners to use and fed at least 1,000 people a day while becoming a place for supply drop-offs.
“These churches are essential right now. Even with the limited ability we have to function,” Jarrett said in early October. “In the midst of our own trauma, we’re still here.”
The early days of the storm
As early as the Saturday after the storm, when the scale of the emergency in North Carolina began to emerge and some were able to get cell service, Jarrett received a group text from Wade. He began connecting pastors across the region, sharing news and setting up in-person meetings with Presbyterian Disaster Assistance, PC(USA)’s emergency organization.
“One of the first messages that I got was that Rev. Keith Grogg, the pastor at Montreat Presbyterian Church, was safe, and he’s like a brother to me,” Jarrett said.
Jarrett was already in connection with fellow PC(USA) pastor Rev. Bill Buchanan, who runs Youth Mission Co. out of First Presbyterian Church in Asheville. Jarrett weathered the storm at Buchanan’s home, which didn’t sustain any damage even though his neighborhood was destroyed.
Jarrett and Buchanan began operating out of Canton, where they were able to work together to share news and updates with others.
“I’ve always had a great appreciation for the connectional church, and we’re really seeing it in action here,” Buchanan says. Many churches outside of the storm area reached out and offered support. “That’s been a solace for a lot of local pastors.”
Grogg says it was miraculous in Montreat, east of Asheville. “There are signs of the spirit all over the place,” he says. “The network has been astonishing. Immediately, our ministry became entirely person-to-person, checking in on each other and bringing food and water.
“Everyone was going out at some risk to themselves to make sure neighbors were OK,” Grogg adds. “I’ve never been prouder or more grateful to be the pastor of Montreat (Presbyterian Church).”
But waves of relief and gratitude intertwined with shock, grief and fear.
“For the first couple of days, when we heard that the mountains were cut off and all the interstates were blocked, it was hard to process,” Jarrett says. “But we looked at each other and said, ‘OK, this is where we are, let’s do what we can.’”
Rumors and misinformation abounded, like that the water supply in Canton was cut off and would run out. “Some of it was absolutely terrifying … we didn’t have the energy to think critically. We were in survival mode.” Cash was essential.
But signs of hope emerged after a few days. When gas stations began filling back up. “That’s when we knew that resources were getting in somehow, and we clung to that as a sign that help was on its way,” Jarrett explains.
‘This is what we do’
Canton has seen disastrous storms before, albeit not at the scale of Helene. In 2004, massive flooding hit the town following Hurricane Frances, and PDA helped get showers installed at Canton Presbyterian so that the church on the hill could host mission and ministry groups and become a dry and safe hub during crisis and recovery.
In 2021, remnants from Tropical Storm Fred caused the Pigeon River to flood, killing six people and causing extensive damage throughout the town that it was still recovering from years later when it was hit by Helene.
“When the flood hit in 2021, it was a godsend that [the showers] were already in place. We opened up to the community,” Jarrett says.
After Helene, Canton Presbyterian hosted volunteers from Eight Days of Hope, who arrived from Mississippi, and the church is hosting more groups as recovery continues.
“This is what we do, this is what we have done in the past,” Jarrett says.
Jarrett is also a member of the Canton Missional Network, a local group of about 15-20 clergy led by United Methodist pastors that formed around 2012 to address issues like food insecurity and the housing crisis. They have worshiped together over the years and “formed bonds of friendship and communication,” Jarrett says.
But in 2021, after Fred devastated the town, the mission network pivoted to focus on flood recovery. So when Jarrett and fellow pastors like Rev. Court Greene of First Baptist Church in Canton heard that Helene was coming, they set up a meeting to get plans in place, like setting up feeding stations and distribution centers for resources and working in conjunction with the town of Canton, emergency responders, and various nonprofits.
“At the time, we thought the storm would not be as bad as Fred had been,” Jarrett says. “But it’s been such a blessing to already have those relationships and that network in place.” She says that when the storm let up and people regained cell service, they were able to hit the ground running.
“In a way,” Jarrett says, “Canton’s past trauma and experience with this has helped us now.”
Moving forward
About a week after the storm, Jarrett and Buchanan said there are signs each day that things are going in the right direction, with plenty of food, water and gas to be found. Roads were driveable, and downed trees were cleared except for in the most remote areas.
Jarrett says people were out with pickup trucks, ATVs, chainsaws and even mules almost immediately after the storm, clearing roads and rescuing neighbors. She was even able to get to her 84-year-old parents north of Asheville shortly after the storm died down.
On Oct. 4, just one week after the storm, Jarrett took some time away from planning to focus on joy. She officiated a wedding. Buchanan’s son Taylor Buchanan and now-wife Emma Ponder had originally planned a big wedding that weekend, but it was obviously shelved. But the Charlotte-based couple decided to get married anyway, in a small ceremony at an area flower farm with immediate family and a few close friends. Afterward, they joined the recovery effort and volunteered in Asheville’s River Arts District.
“I’m going to go offline and focus on joy and hope, this defiant gesture of love and future,” Jarrett said before the wedding. “It’s such a gift to be able to do this.”
For Jarrett and Buchanan, the immediate future is still frontline work, like collecting and distributing donations and providing meals, Buchanan says. He’ll also be trying to figure out what ministry looks like moving forward.
“We’re beginning to see what it will look like on the other side of immediate distribution of needs and at the longtime needs of the community,” he says. He can’t host any fall groups, but “come spring and summer, we’ll be back at it.”
For Grogg of Montreat Presbyterian Church, his goal is to figure out how to operate as a church in the diaspora. With so many families displaced – he himself stayed in Charlotte with family for a while – and their worship space at Montreat Conference Center out of commission, they are a church without a physical home.
“We are trying to figure it out, but there is a great spirit of togetherness right now, despite limits in communication,” he says.
Grogg says the death toll and devastation is more than anyone can bear, and it’s “an offense to humanity” that the thriving cultures and subcultures of the region have been temporarily washed away. But he has so much hope.
“The flip side of that is the beautiful commitment of people to help one another out first and foremost,” he says. “We commit to that vision of beauty that we’re taught in the scriptures. There is joy and beauty to life in Asheville that I don’t think can be washed away.”
“We are definitely in a new age … We want to become more connected, more in touch with our communities and encourage those connections. We’ll hopefully come back in a stronger way.” — Byron Wade
In the meantime, the pastors are trying to take care of themselves as well. Wade says the presbytery sends out regular email bulletins that update people on the status of churches and offer various resources, “including spiritual and mental resources,” he says. “It’s been a very difficult time for our pastors and churches.”
Jarrett says she was in shock for the first couple of days. “We’ve been careful to work as long as we can and pay attention to our bodies, to stop, eat, disconnect and rest,” she adds.
Three weeks after the storm, Jarrett says that a big focus of hers is organizing mental health resources for the community. “We were kind of a desert for that even before,” she says of Canton. “People would go to Asheville, but now a lot of that is cut off.” She’s found therapists offering free short-term sessions and is working on a larger effort.
She says people in her community and ministry network are currently suffering from “survivor’s grief.” As cleanup and recovery continues, there are still piles of debris and businesses and homes that no longer exist. “It’s a constant reminder and sadness. It’s psychically, emotionally, and spiritually hard,” she says.
Wade says recovery will be a long process, but they are hoping to “rebuild better.” “We are definitely in a new age, and learning how to do church differently,” he says. “We want to become more connected, more in touch with our communities and encourage those connections. We’ll hopefully come back in a stronger way.”
