Hurricane Helene and our new era of climate heartbreak

Katrina. Sandy. Maria. Florence. Helene.

There is now another name on our collective list of climate heartbreak.

Floodwaters are still rising downstream of one of the worst inland floods in U.S. history after Hurricane Helene produced more than three months worth of rain in three days across southern Appalachia.

Helene’s death toll has topped 100 and is also still rising. As with the names that came before it, stories of heartbreak (gift link) are abundant in its wake. More than two million households are still without power and countless roads and bridges have been scoured away, cutting off dozens of communities from the outside world.

But more than anything, I’ve noticed the mud. In every search and rescue photo, in every photo of a young family cleaning out their house, in every scene of neighbors distributing water bottles, everything is covered in a thick layer of red-brown mud. I can’t imagine, and hope I’ll never have to experience the feeling of everything I own washed away in a river as I wade through thick mud listening for cries of help.

It’s a kind of heartbreak that’s coming more and more often in this climate emergency.

Writing this week for Fast Company, I wrote about just how a super-charged Gulf of Mexico made Hurricane Helene into a flood-producing machine. But those factual proofs pale in comparison to the layers of heartache the storm has sparked.

That disasters like Hurricane Helene have first names make them even more personal, like you’ve been wronged by an old friend, and the name takes on a new meaning. In New Orleans, people talk about an event as being “pre-K” or “post-K” — the name itself can’t even be spoken, it’s too painful.

If you’re able, please consider donating your time, money, and/or supplies to help the relief effort in the wake of Helene. This thread has a link of several mutual aid groups working across the Southeast right now that need your support.

And if you’re planning on tuning in to tonight’s Vice Presidential debate featuring Minnesota’s own Tim Walz, I wrote another short piece recently for Fast Company lamenting why these debates have reduced climate change to a token two-minute sound bite.

If our leaders and our media won’t tell these stories of climate heartbreak as often as they should, then it’s up to us to tell the story ourselves — and we can start by joining hands with our friends and neighbors to imagine a different and more joyful path forward.

May you have good weather,

Eric

Note: Going forward, I’ll be using this space to share my thoughts and writings on current events in the climate sphere. I’ll also continue to share our collective progress on building Currently as a life-giving weather and climate service that can meet this moment.