Blood dripped from his fingertips into the rain-soaked earth. Even though the land couldn’t accept another drop of rain, it seemed hungry for the life-blood-offering the man unknowingly gave. I watched hypnotized as drops landed in the mud with a soundless splat. The mire absorbed the red splatter, like quicksand devouring a car, until no trace remained, not a single drop to remind me of this man’s wound.
Everyone I encountered after the Kentucky flood bore scars, whether physical, or emotional.
It seemed this land was hungry for blood, having lost its battle with Mother Nature, who had hurled a wall of water, cars, trees, homes, and beloved animals down a narrow creek that-on any other day- wouldn’t be three feet deep. Imagine for a moment, mattresses wrapped around power lines. That’s how high the wall of water was and why I can still barely talk about the people I met there. God bless them. God bless them all !!
The man’s injured hand hung loose at his side as he surveyed what remained of his belongings. Only nothing remained. The lack of personal items was evident in the empty house he once called home; a royal blue structure with doors and windows flung open in a feeble attempt to dry the interior of the unsalvageable building. I noticed the furnishings stacked neatly at the street: sofa, bed, refrigerator.
“Lost all my chickens.” He glanced around the fenced in yard, hopeful for survivors.
That one sentence encapsulated a deep loss for both the man, and the community. Even the roughest, toughest Appalachian holds a deep affection for poultry. Hill folk work in harmony with their feathered friends. Tossing them table scraps, and collecting their offered eggs, calling them by name; hugging the little darlings when no one is watching.
I arrived two days after the flood waters subsided. FEMA hadn’t yet arrived. It was hades-hot and the need for medical supplies, food, and water was critical. The few remaining vehicles not washed away were heavily loaded with supplies and ran non-stop as far as they could into the mountains, stopping only when Mother Nature cut a swath across the road. Here the trucks unloaded into privately-owned 4-wheelers that ran non stop delivering supplies.
The People of Kaintuck
It would be almost 10 days before the roads were clear and FEMA arrived. Some areas didn’t regain power for 6 weeks. These ladies, and that little one in the fuchsia shirt, weathered the storm while inside their home. Like many living in rural Appalachia, they live in a dead-zone with no cell coverage. Even if they had received notice to evacuate, there was no time, and no safe-way to cross the bridge. So they prayed, as water inched higher and higher until it was waist-high in their home and the noise of trees crashing down around them became unbearable. They are still homeless today.
A week later, I stood at the kitchen sink slicing a juicy ripe summertime tomato. Seeking the comfort only a tomato sandwich can bring. I had returned from Whitesburg Kentucky and was processing what I’d seen, what Mother Nature in her rage, did to people who were already struggling to make ends meet. There are some things in life I don’t understand, and at the top of my list is why do bad things happen to good people?
I readied the slices of tomato on the bread then tipped the cutting board to drain like I had done countless times before. As the seeds inched toward the sink my brain shouted, “What are you doing? Those seeds are life for the people of Kentucky. Why are you wasting them?”
Appalachians value heritage varieties of beans, corn, squash, and of course, tomatoes. As I watched the seeds slide toward the drain I realized the people I’d met the week before lost not only their homes, they lost a way to feed themselves. In a panic, I used my bare hands to scoop the seeds, while chastising myself: “Renea, you must do better A seed that is of little consequence to you will feed one of the families you just met!”
And thus began a new mission; one you are welcome to join, because the cause truly is worthy. I am collecting seeds to replenish what Mother Nature took and I am inviting (begging) you to help.
Back in Kentucky, flood waters wiped out four libraries, destroying every single book. The moment I became conscious of my seed-wasting, my heart knew the Kentucky folk had also lost their seed libraries. I reached out to the Regional Office and Alita Vogel confirmed my fears. All the books were destroyed and would need replacing, as would the seed lending libraries, if there was enough money. And we all know how narrow the margins are when working with insurance companies.
I reached out to Swain County High School Carpentry Instructor Derek Oetting. I’ve been hearing about these carpentry students at my former high School. Surely if I explained the urgent need, these students would help. And did they ever. Take a look at these remarkable seed storage boxes !
This is where you come in. We need to fill these boxes with seeds, any variety you wish to donate. Those seed catalogs have arrived, bringing with it a fever (ok, maybe it’s just me). Could you order a couple extra packets, or pick up an extra packet while in the store? Do you have a heritage variety you’d love to share? Please do ! This spring I will make a trip to Kentucky to deliver the seed catalogs for the lending library. I welcome donations to me directly, or to the District Office at the address below. I’ll bring y’all long with me by documenting the trip on my social media page and blog.
Perhaps seeds “aren’t your thing,” Perhaps you are a closed book hoarder (surely, I am not alone). If so, the public library in Whitesburg can accept donations and will shelve them accordingly. Children’s books, non-fiction, fiction. Whatever tugs at your heart is exactly what you should give.
Would you consider joining me? Together, we can give our best, and then some to our Appalachian friends.
Alita Vogel Letcher County Public Library District 220 Main Street Whitesburg, KY 41858
Renea Winchester 60 Almond School Road Bryson City NC 28713
Renea Winchester is passionate about preserving seeds and capturing human interest stories. She in an international author who has penned multiple works of nonfiction and fiction. Her recipe booklet, Bryson City Recipes, just released and is available exclusively on Amazon.
Renea Winchester 