Heather & Matt - Helene Recovery, Swannanoa, NC

Background:

Heather and Matt Miller are some of the most generous and thoughtful people I know. I became quick friends with them just two short years ago, but in that time I've witnessed their genuine ability to extend themselves for others in so many ways–from regularly gifting bouquets of flowers from their garden or fresh sourdough bread made in their kitchen to let them know they're thinking of you, to sharing their dinner with someone on the street they've never met before.

Heather and Matt's home isn't just the place where they started their lives together. It is also a place that many generations of Heather's family called home. Heather's great-grandparents were the first owners of the house on Old 70 in Swannanoa, NC. They raised her grandmother there, celebrated holidays and family occasions with her mother, and eventually sold the house to Heather.

They had so much pride in making it their own, from the light pink paint Heather excitedly chose for her office, to the jasmine growing up the trellis that Matt built for their garden. They shared vegetables and cookouts, video game nights, and clothing swaps. They made a space of love and beauty.

Hurricane Helene:

When Hurricane Helene hit, Heather and Matt were prepared. They tried to do everything right. They were looking out for evacuation notices, watching the levels of the puddles in their backyard to see how it was pooling and hoping it wouldn't flood their crawlspace, keeping an eye on their neighbors, strategizing where they could go, though with winds hurling trees and objects and water building, there was no clear answer.

By the time they received an evacuation notice (announced due to the failure of North Fork Dam) which told them not to leave their home if they had to cross through dangerous water, they were surrounded by a quick moving river. They had no choice but to stay. Seeking help, they called 911 with whom they were repeatedly disconnected from. As the water rose up the side of the house, they prepared a space in the attic, laying down a rug, bringing up provisions, and gathering their cat, Albus, and dog, Nacho. Heather and Matt sat in the attic for two very long hours, continuously calling 911 and their families, but losing service eventually. From the attic, they could see their cars and other belongings being ripped away by the river that was now swallowing their house. The water started to fill their garage, which was also the space that held the entrance to the attic, until the western wall gave out, flushing the water and the contents of their garage into the yard and possibly saving their lives. Heather and Matt made it out and eventually the water receded so they were able to leave their attic to assess their surroundings.

Water had covered the floor and creeped up the walls of their living space leaving inches of mud behind. Their cars, one which Heather named Titus, had been pushed from the driveway to the backyard. The craft shed, filled to the brim with family photos, old love letters, and Heather's great-grandmother's supplies (that Heather was in the middle of sorting through and donating to local artists, crafters, and organizations) floated into the neighbor's yard. Their toolshed, filled with Matt's pride and joys and the practical things to help them rebuild, was pulled 150 yards away and is now on its side, tangled in the trees of a riverbed completely inaccessible. The earth under the slab of their garage is washed out. Their heating and air systems and electrical are shot. The crawlspace is filled with mud, and so many of their belongings are missing, soiled, and destroyed.

The Recovery:

In the week since the storm, Heather and Matt have lived with generous neighbors that had a house on higher ground, so they can be close to home. We have helped them gut the bottom half of their house to prevent moisture from sticking and mold from spreading, hoping to save all we can. Family brought them supplies to pack their salvageable belongings, and a generous near-stranger drove a trailer up from SC to take their items back to Heather's moms. Throughout this excruciatingly traumatizing, exhausting, and emotional time, Heather and Matt are still sharing everything they can with those in their neighborhood. Passing out food and water, making sandwiches to share, checking in on others' homes to see how they can help. Their generosity continues.

Heather and Matt will tell you that they're lucky. That they and their loved ones are alive. That they have family and friends helping them with labor and logistics. That their house may be salvageable. That strangers are driving by offering food and water. That a Baptist relief group may help clear out the crawlspace and spray mold-killer on the studs. That so many people have it worse. And I'm so damn thankful that it's true, but they could still use our help.

Heather and Matt will be out of their work as an electrician and nanny/project manager for quite some time, and though they've lived a thrifty comfortable lifestyle, they couldn't possibly have prepared a financial cushion to cover this. Few could. They will need to purchase a car, find temporary housing, repurchase many basics. And they will eventually need to pay their mortgage. And that's just the start. They don't know how long anything will take or how much insurance or FEMA will cover. There are a lot of long-term unknowns.

John and I, on behalf of many others that have so much love for these two, are asking for your support in gathering funds to support their immediate needs–enough to get them on stable ground (or more if we can). I have the utmost faith that once these two are able to build their lives back in whatever way this river has shaped, they will pay it forward in every way.

Don't have funds to share? Please use your voice to pass on their story. A colleague of mine connected me with someone they knew from work, and this stranger (who also lives in Asheville and is dealing with their own recovery) made a $500 donation to our friends. You never know who you know that will be generous beyond comprehension.

Every bit helps.