Sophie Daniel
Staff Writer
Sewanee students often get trapped in something we call the “Sewanee bubble”, focusing solely on the Sewanee community in front of us. However, when the storms hit in late September and early October, many Sewanee students found their families affected and a few Sewanee students took action– even when the University wasn’t able to provide outreach until January.
On the daunting, apocalyptic evening of Sep. 29, 2024, Hurricane Helene crawled towards the landfall of Florida’s Big Bend. This storm, later to be followed by Hurricane Milton, was identified as a Category 4 hurricane and sustained wind speeds of up to 140 mph. According to the National Weather Service, Helene covered a path of an estimated 500 miles, left over 2 million people without electricity, and killed around 230 people. Storm surges of up to 20 feet left infrastructure mangled and unrecognizable. To describe this disaster with just numbers would be a complete understatement of the amount of emotional displacement that has changed the lives of millions. Hurricane Helene, while considering the national death toll since Oct. 8th, is considered to be the fourth deadliest Hurricane since 1950. While Florida and states bordering the Gulf of Mexico have endured the trend of tropical storms consistently, there was a more uncommon result of Helene’s formation.
This storm not only ripped Florida and Georgia apart but caused an unimaginable amount of ruination to Southern Appalachia. Due to a cold front crossing middle and east Tennessee right before Helene hit, the moisture pulled ahead of Helene only dramatized its effects. Hundreds of road closures over the following weeks left these communities practically unreachable other than helicopter contact. This factor wholly curtailed rescue efforts and delivery of supplies. To put the rare and historical event into perspective, Unicoi County was victim to 1.2 million gallons of floodwater passing through per second at the height of Helene’s destruction. In proportion, Niagara Falls drops 700,000 gallons of water per second. The Tennessee Department of Transportation stated, “The storm has caused historic destruction, and we anticipated hundreds of millions of dollars in damages and months of closures.”
When considering this immense and unexpected catastrophe, it is selfish not to think of Sewanee’s duty in relief work. According to several students on campus, news of Helene’s destruction in Southern Appalachia didn’t start buzzing until three days after its last stretch. Hundreds of these communities have experienced impairment beyond belief. As an institution, we are inherently a part of Appalachia not just because of our location but because a good amount of our student population has roots in North Carolina and East Tennessee. Said best by Lauren Goodpaster, Director of Outreach and Service-Away Programs, “This is part of our culture as Appalachia, and even if we are a tiny part of it, we are still one.”
After speaking with Goodpaster, more information was gathered regarding the University’s intended relief efforts in the future. The Office of Civic Engagement (OCE) focuses on connecting the university community with a bigger world outside of themselves through on-campus programming service, internships, outreach trips, short-term projects, and so much more. The office’s current variety of programs can be found on their website. Goodpaster and the OCE feel called to respond as best they can when immediate needs close by arise. Donation collection is their primary focus, but it is not where they will stop. The office has connected with the Episcopal Diocese of Tennessee and created a cohort of organizations to center their passion where it is needed most. On Oct. 18, Goodpaster drove an overwhelming amount of donation supplies to the Northeast Tennessee AgResearch and Education Center in Greeneville. Bristol Motor Speedway acted as a distribution hub of supplies. These immediate needs include diapers, period products, cleaning products, and easily accessible, non-perishable food. Goodpaster describes the efforts as “a small dent in a long-term challenge.” There is a kind of hope that the Sewanee community clings to, expecting that when there is a need that is asked of us, Sewanee will show up. Given how dangerous the region has become from the debris and flooding, the University cannot send students to physical aid for liability reasons. The plan moving forward is to encourage students to participate in an outreach trip in early January.
However, despite the University’s unwillingness to sponsor an opportunity for volunteer work until January, that didn’t stop students from taking their passionate initiative. This segment is the first-hand experience of four Sewanee students, told by Wyatt Bassou (C’ 27), heading right into the emotional and physical wound that was left of Southern Appalachia. According to Bassou, the news took around three days to become widespread on campus. Yet, nobody seemed to care that deeply about involvement, which is described as typical for the notorious Sewanee bubble. Once his close friends informed him of how the destruction affected their communities, the only word used to describe his feeling at the time was sheer helplessness.
Then came the idea of doing a supply drive to distribute and drive to these counties during fall break to deliver aid with a group. The first person he went to was none other than Goodpaster. A group of students who share this distress on a personal level to advocate for the idea was then gathered: Siler Blackburn (C’ 25), Celia Sisson (C’ 26), and Ashlynn Browne (C’ 25). However, after days of going back and forth on different ideas and how to be directly involved, the loophole of trying to go through the school could have helped the efforts. It was then decided that the University would no longer be an obstacle, as they would take the brave risk of facilitating the effort themselves. The SGA was asked to participate in raising money for the cause, resulting in a line of emails being sent out to the entire school. In less than 24 hours, $1,000 were raised. In a week and a half, a whopping $10,000 were raised.
After receiving a surprising amount of money, the action was swift. The students rented a van, went to Costco, and loaded the van with $1,700 worth of supplies. A map was outlined to hit around seven different locations, which did end up being lessened due to difficulties with road blockage.
On the first day of departure, the group left around 9 a.m. to arrive at Greeneville and unload trailers full of supplies at a local church. The next stop was a church in Erwin, where they encountered an actual victim whose house burnt down due to an electrical shoot. After being offered supplies, the victim was selfless enough to try and refuse the aid, saying that he was a victim of fire and not weather. Due to the local fire department lacking electricity, the church became a warm shelter for victims. Along the vast and windy roads, several churches refused aid, believing that other areas needed it more. The rest of the supplies were donated to a thrift store and turned into a donation site in Johnson City. From there, the group slept in Bristol for the night.
The next day, the group got back on the road bright and early to make the trip to Marshall, N.C., with the van loaded with $1,600 worth of supplies. Upon arrival, Browne and Blackburn suited up in hazmat suits when going into town to protect themselves from the mudslides’ toxicity and began the pressure washing process. Bassou and Sisson went to burn debris. Afterward, the uphill trip to Asheville, Browne’s hometown, began. The water was far from potable, and showering was simply not an option the community could afford. The water was so brown that “you could taste it on your mouth and see it in your toilets,” Bassou described in disgust. Their arrival in Swannanoa is considered one of the more emotionally connected stops. They stopped by a shelter called Bounty and Soul food pantry and education center, where they aided the surrounding community of undocumented migrants, which Bassou described as some of the sweetest, most humble people. During their time there, ahead of the center, a man attempted to take a truckload of supplies to those stuck further up the mountain when his tire popped, and the motor broke down from the unbearably dangerous terrain. His raw empathy and dedication to risking his life to help others touched Bassou deeply when the students pulled $300 out of the nearby ATM and gave it to the man. He tried with all his efforts to refuse the money, repeating the same belief that others deserve it more. With the donation, he has promised to continue doing this work until the desperation stops.
Down the road is where the students made their next stop: Blount Pretzel. Blount Pretzel is a small restaurant that turned its business into a site that cooks three free meals daily from 9 a.m. to 7 p.m. for the locals. The restaurant owner was given the name Saint Paul due to his selfless contribution and, despite not being very religious, he felt that helping others in this way was his God-given duty. According to Saint Paul, his non-profit work is far from over. After donating $1,600 to the restaurant, the group attempted to return to Asheville to distribute more supplies when they were suddenly met with a block. The only way in and out of Swannanoa was closed entirely for five hours because former President Donald Trump was leaving after an appearance at a nearby McDonald’s. The blockage left the community stranded without supplies or rescue aid for 5 hours. The group felt utterly defeated, as they could have brought $5,000 more supplies back into Swannanoa but were completely shut down. However, Bassou then described the most impactful part of that obstacle as the community’s still hopeful and grateful. They were able to smile for the first time in weeks. Finally, after three long days of emotional and physical exhaustion, these brave students returned to Sewanee the next day.
Bassou portrays his relationship with civic efforts as a way to pull him out of the mud. His business is helping others, and it always has been. He states that there is an apparent dichotomy within this experience. His spirits were raised by seeing these towns devastated by such horrific forces turn into communes solely out of the goodness and love within their souls. Such deep cultural roots tied the familial bonds within each community in the wake of a disaster, and that was a beautifully devastating event for these four students to bear witness to willingly. They had zero desire to leave and go back into the confines of our mountain’s privileged bubble while there were still thousands of people aching from loss.
Upon reflection, Bassou is faced with the question of what makes people care about things that don’t affect their personal lives.
“What could make people have the initiative and drive to do the job these incredible students came together for—the job that very few people take their own time to do?”
Bassou illustrated his perspective as a student of the school’s wealth dynamic. The immense influx of wealth at Sewanee has corrupted the institution’s morale, where money is the only force driving our educational system. As a student, it is challenging to be heard regarding what we want to see by an institution with so much power that can easily be centered on progress. When faced with the divisiveness of political discussion and nearby tragedies, Sewanee and its student body are a womb of social consciousness. Everyone is trained to stay in their lane and focus only on what forges their path or what can benefit them. Even as a liberal arts school, we still lack diversity’s expansiveness. As Bassou said, the best way to promote involvement is to “abrogate, activate, and legislate.” Spreading awareness and making the public comfortable with the uncomfortable is the road to ultimate progress.
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