Devastation all around, but there is a light

28 Smoky Mountain News

Opinion Devastation all around, but there is a light

The time stamp on the photo from my iPhone reads 7:29 a.m. It was Wednesday, Aug. 18, a mountain morning full of sunshine and a cool freshness that’s common after rain the day before. Turning onto Wells Road, which connects N.C. 215 and N.C. 110 in Bethel via a bridge across the Pigeon River, I got my first glimpse of the destruction that the river and the rain had wrought the previous night.

Our reporter Cory Vaillancourt had started texting our news staff late Tuesday evening, warning us that things were very bad in Cruso, Bethel, Clyde and Canton. We needed to hit the ground early Wednesday and start reporting on what’s now calling the Great Flood of 2021.

I wasn’t prepared for what I found. It was otherworldly. At 7:30 a.m. the river was still raging, the crops beaten down and the sun rising as mist hovered over the fields. Mud was all over the road and bridge on Wells Road, which is a good 20 feet above the Pigeon.

Heading upriver on N.C. 110 the scenes just got worse. The workers at a rock yard right on the river were already onsite and cleaning up. The guys who run Accurate Auto Repair just across the street were also already trying to assess the damage. One, wearing a shirt from that business, said, like so many others, that “it just all happened so fast, it was a foot deep and then it was waist deep and rising.” I saw cornstalks on power lines 15 feet in the air across Max Thompson Road, mud several feet deep in low areas.

One story kept repeating itself with frightening regularity: efforts to save cars and possessions were abandoned as the water came so fast and deep and powerful that it unleashed a primal instinct to just survive and save the lives of loved ones. Tragically, some didn’t make it, swept away in a maelstrom the likes of which few have ever witnessed.

Already shellshocked after spending 30 minutes in Bethel, I drove up U.S. 276 and the wreckage only got worse. The valley forged by the East Fork of the Pigeon had homes, cars, outbuildings, boats, tools, furniture, toys and everything else out of place, all order seemingly gone. Huge boulders had been tossed around like they weighed nothing. Slabs of pavement from roads and driveways were stacked against splintered trees.

I heard tragic stories: a man swept from a truckbed by the water and acquaintances not knowing that morning if he had survived; campground refugees who feared for the lives of those they said were washed away while taking refuge in some sort of pavilion.

I was headed out of Cruso by 9:30 a.m. Already, scores of people were at work, the parking lots of the Cruso VFD and the East Fork Baptist Church were packed, DOT workers were already repairing roads, volunteers showing up to do whatever they could. I drove out as roadblocks were being set up to monitor who went into the areas where the devastation was the worst.

By now, the story of this flood is well known. More than two feet of rain came down in Cruso, even more in parts of Jackson and Transylvania counties (see story page 19). The Pigeon crested at 20 feet; it’s depth the days before the storm was two feet. As the river surged that afternoon and evening, the heavens oscillated between periods of torrential rain to sunshine and clear skies.

Now the aftermath. Five souls lost, hundreds of lives upended, local governments, schools, churches and businesses trying to do what they can to help with this tragedy in the midst of a raging pandemic that just won’t go away.

It’s hard to see now, but there is light at the end of this. There just has to be. (Scott McLeod can be reached at info@smokymountainnews.com.)

Scott McLeod

Editor

The social impact of personal decisions

To the Editor:

Since the beginning of the pandemic I’ve heard many rationalizations to justify the decision not to get a vaccine against COVID19. One that stands out is that this decision is a “personal choice.”

At the other end of the decision-making spectrum is the concept of “social responsibility.” The problem with personal choice is that no decision made that is not isolated from potentially affecting someone else can be truly considered a personal choice. For instance, if I decide to smoke, I’m more likely to need medical services than if I didn’t smoke. Smoking in public can also affect others who are exposed to second-hand smoke. That’s why there are (social) laws prohibiting smoking in public places and that’s why health insurance companies are justified in charging a higher premium to smokers because this activity is more likely to incur higher medical expenses.

When the COVID-19 vaccines were rolled out, everyone had a decision to make. Was it safe for me? Do I have any pre-existing conditions that make it more likely that I’d have a bad outcome? Do I trust the public health experts who have vetted it and vouched for its safety and effectiveness? These were personal decisions to make.

The social decisions were just as critical, though. For instance, do I have a responsibility to help my community combat this dangerous virus? Do I have a responsibility to my family and friends not to infect them with the virus? Beyond these considerations I’d add a few more. Do I have a responsibility to my employer not to put myself and fellow employees at risk? Do I have a responsibility to my community to limit the likely financial fallout from business losses and closures caused by widespread virus activity. Would I be responsible for stresses placed on local public and private health services, and limiting or cancelling public activities such as school, concerts and sporting events? Do I have a responsibility to my health insurer to minimize the risk of exposing them to the cost of my care if I get a bad case of COVID19? Like with the smoker, this would be justification for an insurance company to charge a higher premium.

You might argue these are not issues you should need to consider when making a “personal decision” to take or refuse the vaccine. But there is ample evidence these issues are all very real whether you consider them or not. They can and will impact you one way or another. So, you are also making a decision about social responsibility whether or not you are consciously doing so. Your decision — combined with those of many others (the social part) — can and will impact the health and safely of your community and beyond, just as much as it will your own health and safety. When you offer your arm for the shot, you’re offering it for many others. When you don’t, you’re refusing it for others, too. Glenn Duerr Waynesville

LETTERS

We should restrict lies, misinformation

To the Editor:

Americans have created for themselves quite a quandary trying to interpret both the literal and the intended meaning of the First Amendment to the Constitution. That portion that states: “Congress shall make no law abridging (which means to shorten or reduce) the freedom of speech” seems now to beg the question; can the ideals of free speech and social justice be in harmony?

A conflict exists between advocates of liberal principles of individual freedom and champions of traditional republicanism, which emphasizes pursuit of the common good. Civil libertarians seem to idolize freedom of expression above all other considerations while others insist that the right to selfexpression must sometimes yield to the greater good of society as a whole. Case in point: COVID-19.

Writers, journalists, newspaper editors (and the like) brood constantly whether protecting the rights of people to express themselves is compatible with reporting, factually, the events of our time. Many people believe that stating: “Views expressed are not necessarily reflective of the opinions of the publisher, editor or staff” are sufficient to absolve any publication of responsibility for what’s printed within its pages. Legally, that’s probably true.

We cannot go back in time and sit with the framers of our Constitution and know for sure what was debated. However, having read the Constitution many times over, I speculate they favored telling the absolute truth at all times. I know of nothing that would disprove that assessment, although reading some letters to editors (for example, from Messrs. Gaston, Stern, and Taylor), obviously we are not all in agreement on matters involving facts and truth. My BS detector fires off frequently with an ear-splitting clang.

I’m of two minds. As the editor-in-chief of The New Republic (Win McCormack) writes in the September 2021 issue: “One of the most compelling examples of the use of free speech on behalf of the greater good is that of Frederick Douglas, an ex-slave whose writings and oratory helped inspire the abolitionist movement.” Douglass’ views on free speech were unequivocal: “To suppress free speech is a double wrong,” he said. “It violates the rights of the hearer as well as those of the speaker.”

The question whether to protect the freedom of the individual to speak freely disregarding the truth or misrepresentation of known facts; or whether to consider the greater good and harm that comes from spreading misinformation, will not be easily resolved. People who choose to remain unvaccinated do so believing they have the right to put other lives at risk. I don’t believe they do but rather are in F