Remembering hurricane Helene on the anniversary of death and destruction this September 26th 2025 just one year later. Many people in Florida are still not built back, still waiting for permits on their homes. Many, no homes to go back to. My personal home was hit and also my husband’s business. Both of which are still not 100% back to normal. But that is just drywall and concrete. Nothing prepares you for the flooding of emotions that tear through your soul when a storm comes through your home and the amount of PTSD you have to deal with during, after and forever with a storm like this. Until you have gone through it. I have lived in the Tampa Bay Area for almost 25 years and like everyone else, thought we were immune to hurricanes, because for so long we had been missed. But mother nature doesn’t mess around. When she has her eyes set on you, there is no getting away.
Landfall in Florida: Coastal Devastation
Helene made landfall near Perry, Florida, on September 26th, 2024, packing 140-mph winds and unleashing a historic storm surge that swallowed coastal towns. The Big Bend region, one of Florida’s most vulnerable stretches of coastline, bore the brunt of the hurricane’s fury.
- Storm Surge & Wind: Waves of 12–16 feet tore into coastal communities, sweeping away homes, businesses, and infrastructure. Tampa Bay recorded a surge of over 7 feet, flooding neighborhoods and destroying waterfront properties.
- Infrastructure Damage: Roads buckled, power lines toppled, and entire stretches of coastline were reshaped by Helene’s surge and erosion.
- Human Toll: At least 34 Floridians lost their lives, and hundreds were injured or displaced.
- Economic Cost: Losses in Florida were estimated at $13.9 billion, encompassing destroyed housing, battered utilities, and coastal restoration needs.
For Florida, Helene was a storm defined by water pushed in from the sea. Its damage was immediate, catastrophic, and concentrated along the Gulf Coast.
North Carolina: Inland Flooding and Mountainous Chaos
By the time Helene crossed into North Carolina on September 27th, 2024, it had weakened as a hurricane, but the mountains and river valleys of the state amplified its destructiveness. The storm transformed into a catastrophic inland flood and landslide event — the likes of which North Carolina had never experienced.
- Rainfall & Flooding: Communities in western North Carolina recorded up to 30 inches of rain. Rivers burst their banks, sweeping through towns and rural areas. Low-lying communities were engulfed, and mountain valleys became dangerous flood channels.
- Landslides & Erosion: Saturated soils triggered widespread landslides, burying homes, destroying roads, and cutting off entire communities. Even major highways like I-40 suffered catastrophic washouts.
- Human Toll: North Carolina paid the heaviest price in lives lost. More than 100 residents were killed, with Buncombe County alone reporting 43 deaths. Thousands were displaced, and rescue operations stretched for weeks.
- Economic Cost: The state’s damages climbed to over $59.6 billion, making Helene the costliest natural disaster in North Carolina’s history.
- Infrastructure Collapse: Bridges crumbled, dams were overtopped, and power and communications networks failed, leaving many mountain communities isolated for days.
In North Carolina, the storm was defined not by the ocean’s surge, but by the sheer volume of rain, gravity of the mountains, and fragility of the region’s infrastructure.
Florida vs. North Carolina: Contrasting Impacts
While both states were battered by the same storm, the impacts reflected their vastly different geographies.
- Florida’s tragedy was a coastal one: surge and wind wiped away towns, especially in the Big Bend, and flattened infrastructure at the ocean’s edge.
- North Carolina’s tragedy unfolded inland: floods and landslides cascaded through mountains and valleys, leaving a trail of destruction that dwarfed Florida’s damages in scale and cost.
Florida endured a powerful strike, but North Carolina suffered a prolonged disaster that overwhelmed emergency systems and reshaped communities. When we went to go visit back in April of 2025 major interstates were still closed off. Roads even in Pigeon Forge, Tennessee area were still washed away as well. Driving around the Biltmore area was sad to see buildings that were there prior totally gone. The cute little mountain town of Chimney Rock we had just visited the year prior, totally washed away. We still have our memories have photos, but it will never be the same. Our hearts go out to everyone there.
The Road to Recovery
Recovery in both states will take years. Florida faces the daunting task of rebuilding storm-ravaged coastal towns while grappling with beach erosion and sea-level rise that make its coasts ever more vulnerable. North Carolina, meanwhile, must not only rebuild washed-out roads and homes, but also reimagine how to protect mountain communities from extreme rainfall and landslides in a changing climate.
Hurricane Helene’s dual disasters highlight a sobering truth: the dangers of hurricanes are not confined to the coast. From Florida’s Gulf shoreline to North Carolina’s mountain hollers, the storm underscored that water — whether from the sea or the sky — remains the deadliest force in a hurricane.
We are Floridians, we are strong, we will move on. In one way or another. We are built different. This picture from above is our trash pile from our community. This is an accumulation of the damage that was done to our four townhomes and the garages next door. The demo crews didn’t take it away and threw it out front. Because the city was supposed to pick it up. Well the city wouldn’t pick it up, said because it was on private property behind a gate. Well the HOA wouldn’t pick it up either, yet they complained about it everyday and said they were going to fine us because it was an eye sore! Yet we pay over $1,000 a month in HOA fees. And we live in a mainly elderly community here in Florida of people 80 years and up. So after a month or so of the trash pile sitting out there, our community of elderly people, my husband and myself, we purchased a dumpster and did it ourselves. That’s right. A community of elderly residents purchased not one but five dumpsters out of our own pockets and then physically carried that entire pile of rubbish for seven days total to get rid of it. Did the insurance reimburse us? NO. Did FEMA pitch in? NO. Did we just roll up our sleeves and say FUCK IT?! YES! Because that is what Baby Boomers and Gen Xer’s fucking do! WE GET SHIT DONE.
Just to note, the youngest person in that photo was 47 (me) the oldest person in out in the trash pit was 85 at the time of the photo.
Richter Publishing 