Have you ever accidentally (or maybe even on purpose!) disturbed an anthill?
The conical mound outside the entrance to the nest below is strewn asunder when a human foot steps on it. It is devastation to the ants below ground who labored long hours to create their home. But almost as soon as you walk away, the ants are out of the burrow and beginning the job of restoring their creation.
If the destruction comes again, the tiny workers drop what they are doing and begin the repair work once more. That is what ants do. And sometimes it seems that people are not so different.
On our return trip from Chicago this week, we decided to take a slight detour just south of Asheville, North Carolina, and visit the village of Chimney Rock. My wife and her family spent vacation time there while she was growing up, and she wanted to see what was left of her childhood memories following the destruction from Hurricane Helene.
Chimney Rock, like many parts of western North Carolina, was devastated by the storm and flood from the Broad River that flows through the hamlet. The bridge that connects the small business community to houses and the state park on the opposite side of the river was washed away. The road into the community was impassible. A few homes were lost. Stores were destroyed or damaged, and businesses were forced closed. Things not only looked bad, they were bad.
But like ants working to rebuild their homes, the people of Chimney Rock didn't give up. And they got lots of help. They started the process of putting the pieces back in place and return their town to its former self.
The evening before our arrival, after checking the internet to see how best to get to the town and what might be available to us, I was pleasantly surprised to learn that the state park had opened nine months after Helene hit. Around a dozen businesses had reopened. A temporary bridge to the state park was open. Finding a route on Waze, we were on our way.
Taking the Columbus exit off I-26, we followed State Route 108 to Mill Spring, turned left onto Highway 9 and followed it past a much-depleted Lake Lure (no thought of filming a "Dirty Dancing" remake until the water level returns) and then on to Chimney Rock.
It was immediately evident that something bad had happened. There was damage to some riverside structures that appear to be ready to fall down an embankment carved out when the river raged. Other store fronts were darkened. A "Road Closed" sign blocked the highway at the north end of town. The initial thought was that things looked bleak. But first impressions can be wrong.
We had a difficult time finding a parking place - not that those that were occupied had signs to go with them. When we finally discovered a spot in front of the closed Harley-Davidson shop, we were impressed to find a few shops open and made our way to the RiverWatch Waterfront Bar & Grill.
Our server, Joey, told us it was the fourth day the establishment had been opened since September. The place looked and smelled brand new as we took our seats in a front-room booth. The menu looked inviting, and I ordered the Famous RiverWatch Reuben with fries while Mary Lou opted for her once-in-a-decade chili cheeseburger with fried onion rings. Everything was tasty for our hungry twosome.
We were far from the only people who found the spot. Couple after couple entered the front door to take a seat and dine on the burgers, salads and sandwiches cheerfully served by a grateful staff. They were glad to be back at work, and we were more than happy to provide a few dollars for the local economy.
RiverWatch was inundated with mud from the flood, but just like ants when their hill is destroyed, the owners worked diligently to get their business up and running. They and other businesses were not to be denied. As we walked back to the car I noticed that many of the parking spaces were occupied by pickup trucks. They belonged to workers who were getting more stores ready to open. Giant ants at work to make the town whole again. That's what people do.
My wife looked across the river at the several houses on the far side - some of which were rented by her family years ago. We drove over a new bridge at the south end of the village and crossed the Broad to a lane that splits a row of houses on either side. There are still a number of homes standing, including two that Mary Lou recalled staying in during her childhood. But there were also empty lots where houses once stood and one standing fireplace missing the rest of its home.
As different as the town looked to Mary Lou and her memories when it was a happy family vacation spot, it was impressive to see the ant-like quality of the people in the area. This place was theirs, and the flood might set them back, but it was not going to take away their hopes and their dreams.