My Heart is in Those Mountains
As a native of Western North Carolina, my roots run deep in the mountains. Living in Boone as a young child, spending summers in Blowing Rock, and growing up in Asheville, I’ve always been surrounded by the breathtaking landscapes of the Blue Ridge Mountains and have been proud to call North Carolina home. From attending high school to pursuing my college education in this region and all the lifelong friendships I’ve made, my connection to this place isn’t just geographical; it’s woven into the very fabric of my life. The mountain air, winding trails, and tight-knit communities have shaped who I am and the values I hold dear.
Mountain view taken from the Biltmore Estate in 2019.
But over a month ago, my world—and the world of so many—was turned upside down. Hurricane Helene came barreling up the East Coast, carving a path of devastation from Perry, Florida, all the way through the Appalachian Mountains. Never in my life had I felt so powerless as I did during those days, watching helplessly as the storm reports worsened, knowing it was headed straight for my hometown and my parents. Helene unleashed the worst natural disaster in the state’s history, and the pain remains raw—a pain that will linger for many months and even years.
For two agonizing days, all communication was cut off. I couldn’t reach my family or friends, and my mind spiraled with every “what if” imaginable. The helplessness was suffocating, and those 48 hours were some of the longest of my life. When I finally received word that my family was safe, my relief was overwhelming, but that relief quickly turned to a deep sense of urgency. I needed to go back to see the place that had shaped me, to check on everyone and everything that mattered most.
My friend Katey’s backyard. Her entire neighborhood, Beacon Village, in Swannanoa, was decimated. Consider a donation to their GoFundMe to help rebuild their neighborhood.
The very next day, I returned to the mountains. As I drove in, I could hardly recognize the places I held dear. Beloved small towns had been reduced to rubble, roads washed away, and familiar landscapes transformed into scenes of heartbreak. I kept saying to myself and out loud, “This is different. This is unlike anything I have ever seen. This is out of a horror movie.” Ends up I actually had an opportunity to share that sentiment with the Wall Street Journal just days after the storm too.
But amid the devastation, I couldn’t allow despair to take hold. After ensuring my family was safe, I knew I had to act. Friends, neighbors and strangers alike came together to begin the long road to recovery. I leaned into my EO Charleston community and my friends at The Harbor Entrepreneur Center. They all stepped up in a big way.
The following weekend, my friends and I organized a trip back to serve meals and distribute supplies to those in need. We weren’t alone; volunteers from all over the region rallied to bring comfort and support to the hardest-hit areas. Kickin Chicken was a huge supporter and their customers brought tons of supplies. Serving meals, handing out supplies, and offering a listening ear were small acts, but in those moments, they meant everything to the people reeling from the storm’s impact.
Serving hot meals to the community and linemen from Montreal, Canada. Nearly 500 hot meals were served.
Since then, support has been unwavering on a daily basis. Donations flowed steadily from the Lowcountry to the mountains, with local businesses like Firefly Distillery playing a vital role in collecting and coordinating essential supplies. From basic necessities to heartfelt notes of encouragement, this continuous stream of generosity has bridged the distance and uplifted the spirits of those impacted.
For me, the mountains aren’t just a beautiful destination—they are a vital part of who I am. Being able to support those who call this region home fuels my soul in a way most things can’t. There’s a resilience in these communities that’s impossible to put into words, and knowing I can help even a little has given me a renewed sense of purpose.
At Cloud Nine, this mission is deeply personal. Both Jessica Rodriguez and I are proud Tarheels, born and raised in North Carolina. These mountains aren’t just our homeland—they’re our heart and soul. We believe in the power of giving back and supporting communities in need. That’s why we’ve partnered with the United Way of North Carolina to provide support, and we encourage others to do the same.
If you feel called to help, there are many ways you can make a difference. Volunteer your time, send letters of love and encouragement to the people rebuilding their lives (pick an address, any address), donate to the United Way of North Carolina, and most importantly, keep those impacted by the storm in your prayers. Your support, no matter how big or small, can provide hope to those in their darkest moments.
“The Lord is close to the brokenhearted and saves those who are crushed in spirit.”