By Jacquelyn Dobrinska
As the Director of Community and Education for LSRF and a resident of Asheville, I’ve witnessed firsthand the devastation Hurricane Helene left behind—and the remarkable hope rising in its wake.
The Immediate Impact
The destruction was swift and overwhelming: roads washed out, power lines down, and communication cut off. For days, we couldn’t get gas, groceries, cash, or even access to cell service or the internet. On that first day, I stood in shock, watching floodwaters engulf our town, and hearing about the destruction of dozens of communities downriver. I reflected on Maharajji’s words, "Everything is perfect." I wondered—this too? But I also recalled Ram Dass’ story—you don’t congratulate a starving man for fasting for eight days. This was a time to balance compassion in action with discerning wisdom.
The Power of Community
Thich Nath Hahn said that of the three gems of Buddhism - teacher, teachings, and community - the community is the most important. No words could be more true in this moment.
Within 24 hours, my community in West Asheville—and many others across the region—came together. We gathered in parking lots to share information: Where could we find clean water, gas, and food? How could we communicate or get to the outside world, with roads and major highways washed away?
We began sharing resources, ensuring our neighbors—regardless of politics—had water, food, and support. Everyone with a chainsaw was out working, with neighbors helping clear debris. And within a day, we transitioned from a cash-only economy to a gifting one. People shared what they had, took what they needed, and no one kept count.
As we understood more of our predicament, the heart of compassion surged forward. Each day, I was moved to tears by the acts of love I witnessed: breweries distributing free water, restaurants grilling food on sidewalks - for free or tips if you had them - and homes with generators offering power to the streets to charge phones. Firetrucks arrived from as far away as California to assist our overwhelmed emergency workers, and within 12 hours, a steady stream of cargo planes filled with supplies were flying in. FEMA sent 24 of their 28 self-sustaining teams to Asheville, and their presence, particularly in marginalized areas, has been transformative. The stories of kindness, responsiveness, and support have been nothing short of inspiring.
The Scale of Devastation
The devastation is staggering. Vibrant towns have been reduced to shells, filled with mud, toxic sludge, and shattered lives. Thousands of trees have fallen, homes destroyed, roads impassable, power lines down, water mains washed away, and sinkholes as big as houses. Many lives—both human and animal—were lost or forever changed.
Seeing the destruction with my own eyes, the scale is hard to comprehend. Yet, amid this chaos, love continues to rise to meet each moment. The force of love is bigger than the force of the hurricane.
The Rise of Compassion
In every corner, people are stepping up to take care of one another - the right hand pulling the left out of the fire. Members of an anarchist bookshop setting up water systems for low-income and elderly apartment complexes. Ex-Green Berets flying their private helicopters and caring strangers bringing their mule trains to bring supplies to communities stranded by mudslides. Nonprofits like World Central Kitchen and MANNA Food Bank feeding hundreds of thousands. Military personnel standing guard on bridges, and FEMA distributing food, water, and care. Church groups from around the country helping homeowners tear down houses to the studs to combat mold. Random high school students showing up to shovel mud. Local solar companies setting up temporary power grids. And these are simply the things I’ve witnessed firsthand.
Caring for each other has become the focus. One day, I volunteered with the register of deeds where teams checked on residents in all sectors —ensuring they had water, sanitation, food, and medication. By the time I reached the front of the line, all the places in need had already been checked.
Donations keep pouring in. Just today, one of the hubs to drop off supplies had a line that was at least an hour long - a testament to the spirit of generosity and cooperation.
"And This Too"
After several days of helping and fixing, I finally arrived at a sacred community hub—one of the few places I had access to with power and water, thanks to a generator. After taking a much-needed shower, someone gently placed their hands on my back, and for the first time, I dropped out of the “trauma brain” and back into my body. I sobbed.
Facing difficult emotions is part of the process. We can’t deny them, or we risk losing our presence and power. But we can’t stay stuck in them either, because there’s work to be done. So I allow myself to feel, to release, and to reconnect with my heart. Each day, I meditate and chant, the Maha Mritanjaya mantra plays on repeat in my head, and I feel the prayers from so many of you. I know I’m one of the fortunate ones, and that truth is even clearer when I reflect on how differently this disaster has impacted those in low-income or historically redlined areas, or old-time families who’ve lived in the hollers for generations.
Ram Dass’ words, “Ah so... and this too,” resonates deeply as I witness the beauty and the tragedy—the bald eagles soaring above the wreckage, the respite in the sanctuary - where I can enjoy the luxurious of simple things, like flushing toilets and refrigeration - as I drive supplies from one devastated community to another, the widespread mud and mold next to the now tranquil meandering rivers and streams, the loss of life and livelihood amidst the undeniable power of care and connection.
Ah so... and this too.
A Lesson in Unity
If there’s one lesson the rest of the country can take from Asheville, it’s that unity, compassion, and cooperation are what drive real progress. When we feed each other, everyone gets fed. The impulse to help never feels like enough, and yet each of us is stepping up, becoming one of the arms of the 10,000-armed goddess of compassion, creating a tapestry of support that fuels our recovery.
We’re in this together, and we’re moving forward—one day at a time. We continue to meet in backyards around fires or in candle lit kitchens to process, hug, laugh and plan. And as the outside world starts to creep in and we see the “other-ing” and scapegoating of various groups, it is only then that our recovery seems to fray at the seams. Ah so…and this too.
As a mountain biker and a kayaker I know, you hit what you look at. So as my heart breaks, and the fear of climate chaos becomes intimately real, I keep my eye on a future where we have sustainable systems that can care for ALL of life.
So keep your prayers coming. Just like after the fires of Lahaina, this is a long road to recovery. And even as the news cycle moves on, Western North Carolina (like so many other places around the world) will continue to need your attention, support, and prayers
May you be blessed. And may ALL beings be safe, be happy, be healthy, and live a life of ease.
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If you have the means and are able, please consider supporting Asheville’s hurricane recovery:
Beloved Asheville: https://belovedasheville.com/donate
Manna Foodbank: https://www.mannafoodbank.org/
