You can’t step anywhere in this town without stepping in mud.
Still, at five o’clock every afternoon, the residents of Marshall make their way to the Madison County Courthouse – their clothes and shoes caked in mud.
They gather in a half circle around the steps and listen to town leaders like Mayor Aaron Haynie.
“We've got a few things to mention,” Haynie started during a meeting last week. “The bridge did pass inspection yesterday…We've got some mobile shower units coming in,” he told the dozens of people who gathered.
Haynie has been holding these meetings every day, giving out information and asking people what they need.
Hurricane Helene swept away chunks of infrastructure in Western North Carolina leaving many without water, power or cell service. Utilities have been slow to return, and many rural communities have little to no communication with the outside world.
Larger municipalities started formal, streamed briefings, but smaller towns across our region started holding in-person meetings every day, to bring people together and inform them about what comes next.
As rain from Hurricane Helene fell, the French Broad River crested at 20 feet near Marshall and ripped through downtown. On the buildings that are still standing, the high-water mark is past the ceiling.
There was so much mud on the roads that it took days to bulldoze a path for cars to drive through. Volunteers have been working to shovel off sidewalks and clear buildings.
These town halls – happening all over the region – show how resourceful a community can become when they’re essentially cut off.
At the meeting, residents asked for epi-pens, porta-potties and for less cars to be on the road while large construction vehicles are trying to clear mud.
Communities across western North Carolina are still dealing with trying to communicate with little cell service. These town halls serve as a lifeline for information, supplies – and sometimes just socializing.
“All right. If anybody can tell me what day of the week it is, that'd be a good way to start,” Lisa Jennings started organizing daily meetings in Black Mountain near the town square.
Last week she addressed dozens of residents who took notes and filmed on their phones:
“I know we are hot. We are stinky. We are thirsty. But now we have more resources. So we want to give ourselves some grace.”
Chief of Police Steve Parker was there too: “I think I've hit my crash zone and I'm in exhaustion. Who isn't exhausted here? Who isn't exhausted?”
The crowd chuckled, but the statement rang true for people who had spent days cleaning out their homes and neighborhoods after the storm.
Public Works Director Jamie Matthews also addressed the crowd:
“I know people are getting tired, and I know emotions can get involved, and people can get snappy, but I will say the sanitation process has been going so smooth, and that's coming from staff. And that's because of you guys, that's because of the community. Just work together, stay calm. We're going to get through this thing.
Jenny Osbone is one of the Black Mountain residents who attended that meeting.
“Alot of us here felt so disconnected and separated to the point where it really was every man for themselves for a hot minute until we knew that there was more out there,” she said.
In rural mountain towns, connectivity is going to be an issue for the foreseeable future. But progress in some areas is happening. The town of Black Mountain ended their community meetings over the weekend – as cell service returned and some of the power came back on.
