My name is Rick and I am a “retired” teacher. I have always liked teaching. Even as a little kid I was teaching other kids (aka bossing them around) as we played in the woods building forts and ramps for our bikes. I spent over a decade in a traditional classroom at a public high school in Florida and it was one of the best experiences I’ve ever had; yet there was a problem. The problem was a lack of connection. Public school doesn’t allow for friendships between students and teachers. I was only supposed to talk with them about my subject (Visual Art) and connecting with them as people wasn’t part of the curriculum. I have never seen myself as above anyone, and the idea that I was supposed to act above my students was a problem for me. I think that teaching is a two-way street, I learn as much as I teach. I can’t be a teacher apart from the group, we are all a part of the group. We are all in this together. This led me to search for a classroom outside the system. I needed help.

My ex-wife, Jami, is a teacher as well. Jami shared my hopes and dreams about making the educational environment a more holistic experience. We’ve both had students that have shared their home life stories, which were heartbreakingly difficult, and we had become mentors and parental figures for these students. We must care about the student as more than just an academic statistic, we must love them as a person, with emotions and hopes and dreams of their own. With shared ideals for what Jami and I wanted in a “classroom,” we still needed more help.

My parents, Deb & Barry, have had amazing influences on my life growing up. My mom, Deb married Barry when I was 12 years old. They have always been excellent examples of how to live my life. Their kindness, generosity, hard work and sense of community have been passed down to me and I am excited to be passing these qualities on to my own children. When I was a high school student, my parents were generous enough to let not just one but two of my classmates move in when their home situations got rough. The first was someone that I consider a brother (and always will) and the second was Jami. As far back as I can remember we have always built our tribe around us. Parties and impromptu gatherings have always been a part of life. “The more the merrier” and “No one should go hungry around here,” were quotes that I’ve heard so many times throughout my life. When I’d bring friends over whether it be 2 or 20, all were always welcome. As far as hard work is concerned, Deb has worked 2 jobs for the last 25 years, one in IT and the other as a scrapbook consultant. Barry has been a tractor mechanic with John Deere for 34 years. They are the people that I hope to be as I get older, and I was fortunate enough to be able to share my idea with them and to receive the same encouragement and support they had always given me. They had one major request, that the four of us make this “classroom” idea happen in the mountains.

So, we, as a team, looked for our new home and place of business in the beautiful North Carolina mountains. After 3 years of searching, we found our forever home just outside of Burnsville, NC. We visited the Wednesday before Thanksgiving in 2015, and we just knew this was the place; it felt like home. By Friday we had a contract. It took a little over a year (and 4 moving trucks) to get us all up here, and since that time we have been hustling to get our dream up and running.

Three days of rain to be exact. As a former Floridian, where afternoon thunderstorms are a daily occurrence in the summer afternoons, I wasn’t concerned. On that fateful third day I was woken early by the unusual quiet. The power had gone out. Well shit, I thought as I rolled out of bed to go look at the power lines. The power never goes out here. Only two times, in the eight years we’ve lived here, and then only for a few hours. I wasn’t super concerned, but I wanted to check to see if a tree had fallen on the power lines. I did a lap on the 4-wheeler and, nope, it wasn’t an issue with the lines on our property. I went back to the house and noticed there was a small leak in the basement where water was puddling up next to the house. I went into our back patio and there was six inches of standing water. I ran to grab a shovel and started trenching a bit to get the water to run off. My mom, Deb, grabbed a push broom and started to push the water down the hill. We played in the rain for an hour or so and the water was no longer standing against the house. Crisis averted… or so we thought.

The rain stopped at about 2pm and I jumped on the 4-wheeler again to go look at everything and survey the damage. We had 2 little trees fall, blocking our roads. No big deal. I rounded the corner and saw that the deck on the Revive Hive had fallen in a landslide. That was a bigger deal. Dammit. More building work, and on stuff I already finished. I took the 4-wheeler further down the road toward the bottom of our property, and that’s when shit got real. There was floodwater from the river, a quarter mile away, up ten feet from the little creek bed, and I could see our neighbor’s house, a repurposed church, was flooded, completely covering their first floor. My heart sank. I hope they’re not still in their house, I thought. I attempted to call them on my cell phone, and that’s when I realized I didn’t have phone service. I hustled to go get mom, and a kayak. I had to see if our neighbors were okay.

Kayaking across my driveway was not something I thought I would ever do, nor would I have ever imagined that I would be paddling up to my neighbor’s deck and using it as a dock. Thankfully, they were not inside, and their van was gone. I was assuming that they drove off and it didn’t wash away. Thankfully, I was right. I kayaked back to the 4-wheeler and then decided to range out a bit. Check the neighbors above us and see if I could get off our property that way. Pushing past downed trees I made it to the neighbor’s place, and there was no sign of them either. As part-time residents, I wasn’t concerned. I took their driveway down to the main road and on my way, I found our church neighbors, Louis and Kathy, tucked up on high ground. Thankfully, they we safe. We chatted for a few and I invited them to our place as soon as they could make it. I continued down to our main road and looked toward the river. Rushing waves with white caps were surging in the distance. Our neighbor’s homes closer to the river were completely submerged. This was where the first wave of fear hit me. Oh shit, how bad is this? Did they make it out? If the river is this bad here, what else is going on? I checked my phone again, this time for internet and news. Nothing. More fear sank in. Oh, shit. My daughters aren’t home. Fuck, are they okay? I can’t call them. Fuck. They’re going to be worried about us. Fuck, fuck, FUCK.

As the water receded over the next few hours, we attempted to find a signal. We started gathering our emergency supplies. We, like many others, didn’t expect anything like this. A hurricane party where I’m from involved booze and listening to music as the storm raged outside. It was never a big deal. The bigness of this weather was sinking in. Once the water receded to the now much larger banks, we could see our roads out of Green Mountain. Huge sections of the road, our main escape route, were gone. The road going in the other direction was piled high with debris, and the third road was blocked by downed trees and power lines. No power, no communications, and no way out… or way for help to get in. We were on our own.

Writing this almost 8 months later and tears are coming to my eyes as that fear reintroduces itself. Deep breath.

I know now that my daughters were okay. Worried, but okay. Unbeknownst to me, family had reached out to Kaya, calmed her fears the best they could, and they mobilized to come and help. Bella was stuck in the same downed power and cell outage as I was, so no word yet. I couldn’t sit still, so I took my tractor, and a chain saw and got to work. I’ll be damned if we’re stuck here. I needed to get in touch with my children. I spent the next day clearing the main road of trees and mud. A moment I’ll never forget was when I needed fuel for the tractor and was driving up my driveway and a black truck pulled up behind me. I turned and throttled down to see Bella jump out of the backseat of the truck and sprint toward me with tears running down her face. I was so relieved to see she was safe.

I am now sobbing. What is breathing?

Jami and I have had our differences, but I’ll be eternally grateful that she brought our daughter to me. Apparently, Bella insisted that she needed to get home, and she’d walk if she had to, but she was going home. Bella also had news that Kaya was safe at school, and she was talking with Shannon and Joe about how to send help, and that they were loading up with supplies and Joe was on his way. Relief like I have never felt before flooded over me.

Over the next few weeks, we worked to survive. Roads were clearing due to the good ‘ole boy network of locals that were doing the same thing as we were, taking care of our community. With travel accessible, rescue started on a massive scale. Helicopters filled the air bringing supplies and pulling people from the wreckage of their homes. Volunteers from all walks of life rushed to WNC, and with them they brought hope, news, and supplies. Over the next few weeks we all struggled to get our bearings, and over the following months the community began to revive. My friends, Joe and Dennis, came to help with rebuilding, problem solving, and security detail. My sister from another mister, Shannon, was helping from afar as our communications and supply officer. We had other friends stay with us as their homes were destroyed while they looked for what was next. One of them, Gail, her life uprooted from the storm, went to California with her son, then came back to stay with us while she found a new home and art studio. The other, Louis, our church neighbor, has been steady visiting after gutting his flooded retirement home and planning his resurrection of Deyton Bend Church. Our community came together, and our family of friends got a little bigger. Life is gradually getting back to normal, but we are stronger due to the trials we faced.

Personally, my family was out of power for 30 days, and 80% of our county’s power grid was completely rebuilt. We got spotty cell service back after a week, which is still the case. The generators and satellite internet got us back in touch with our larger family within 4 days, and that took multiple trips into Johnson City, which took much longer than usual to get to. I got the deck fixed on our cabin. Our usual internet provider came back online at 7 months. The roads are still being fixed. Around the county, the homes and businesses that were damaged or demolished are being cleaned up or rebuilt. Sadly, the death toll is still unknown because so many people were just never found. The devastation is hard to put into words and is something I hope that I’ll never have to deal with again. Now we are stronger, we are tighter as a community, and I know now that I will forever have a home here in this community of Western North Carolina.

Come Hell or High Water, we are still here.