A Short Trip and How We Had Forgotten the Wonders of Discovery
- Marcia Edwina Herman-Giddens
- May 26
- 5 min read
Updated: May 29
It is remarkable to be reminded of how much one can do and learn in a few days of travel. I had forgotten! It had been a year and a half or so since my husband, Doug, and I had gone anywhere.
We departed with dread at the prospect of seeing the devastation Hurricane Helene caused in the North Carolina mountains, even knowing the eight months since then would have allowed for some cleanup and repair. My husband had a more stoic attitude than I even though we feared his fish camp in a county just north of Asheville might be gone: the lean-to he built attached to the WPA stone fireplace, the old bicycle that served to help barricade openings in the three-walled shack from prowling bears, pots and pans, and much more. If you are wondering, the fireplace in the middle of the forest had long lost any evidence that would reveal why it was where it was.
One night in a tiny house near Burnsville, the second with friends in Asheville, and a six or so hour drive on each end of the trip marked the trip’s outline. Our packing and food planning skills were rusty; we learned something in that arena, too. We spent time in several places but two stand out: Marshall in Madison County and Old Fort in McDowell County. Each town has a population of not much over 800. You might think there would not be much to see but that would be wrong.
My only other visit to the tiny Marshall was in 2015 when I passed through towards the end of a long road trip. I will never forget the view as I passed yet another sharp curve down the steep mountain that is Marshall’s backdrop. Seeing it from above, I took in a street lined with old brick buildings on both sides punctuated by the county courthouse and
edged with a railroad track along the stately French Broad River. It looked like something out of a European storybook. I wandered around for a bit before driving on and always wanted to return. Given that history, I was especially saddened when I learned that much of the town had been destroyed when Hurricane Helene hit it on September 27, 2024.
This time, we entered Marshall from the other end not knowing what to expect. The grand river flowed gently, seemingly apologizing for its destructive explosion when it rose twenty-six feet that awful day. Piles of debris and cars tossed into odd places were still everywhere interrupted by bare lots where buildings had been. Some buildings were still standing here and there along with the courthouse. Our sadness was quickly stifled by the sounds of determination and hope filling the air, hammers hammering, saws sawing, people laughing as they worked. One art shop, Flow, was completely restored and restocked, a real treat. Several eating establishments had reopened. Boarded up buildings were painted with encouraging slogans. Pots of colorful flowers were everywhere, their placements not deterred by the piles of trash aside many. A law office still awaiting restoration had flowers growing on the roof over its entrance!
One of the most remarkable sights was a red caboose sitting on a pad of concrete across the street from the train tracks, its torn off wheels had landed nearby. The proprietor of the art shop had told us about the old caboose and the FM radio station that had operated in it. How can we begin to imagine the power of the raging winds and water that could and did toss a caboose 300 feet across a street as though it was a toy?
I contacted the FM station wART co-founder, Chares Rice, to learn more. In Greece at the time, he wrote, “Our caboose was on a short piece of track next to the main rail line. Next to the caboose was the old train depot, which, unfortunately, was completely destroyed. It literally washed down through Main Street. The caboose was washed about 300 feet from its original location and the floodwaters flipped the caboose on its side. It has been uprighted, but is still located where the floodwaters left it. We were back on the air eight days later using donated equipment.” The wART FM programming is fun and eclectic. Check it out.
These are resilient people, these Marshall folk. Doug and I enjoyed a lunch, peered at a few artists sketching and painting here and there, walked halfway across the bridge to see more of the river, and left with admiration and optimism in our hearts.
Asheville is coming back, too. After good meals, walks, and visits with friends the next day we started back down the mountains. Old Fort was next. Doug used to work at the Mountain Gateway Museum many years ago when he lived in Asheville. The two creeks in Old Fort flooded during Helene and did a lot of damage.
Like Marshall, Old Fort was rebuilding with determination and hope. The museum was shuttered but open in a temporary location. The main site, comprising a 1936 WPA stone building and two old mountain log cabins, is partly intact and closed for repairs. Museum staff are collecting stories and photographs on Hurricane Helene from the moment it hit on for their archives. The lovely, restored home the museum used as an office and shop and for storage was completely destroyed and the contents all lost.
The exhibits in their temporary location were all interesting but my favorite was on the Pack Horse Librarians, another WPA project. I had never heard of these strong and determined women. From 1935 until 1943 they delivered books to remote regions in the Appalachian Mountains on horseback. It is estimated that they served around 100,000 people over these years; isolated people plunged into even worse poverty by the Great Depression. It surprised me to learn that about 70% of the poor mountain people then could read at some level.
Now, Packhorse Librarians are back in the form of an all-volunteer organization called The 21st Century Packhorse Librarians. In our mountains, there are still plenty of isolated, struggling people back in the “hollers” whose only access is a rutty dirt road. I don’t need to describe, as with the original Packhorse Librarians, for people who are newly destitute, whose lives were splintered or destroyed by Hurricane Helene, how much it means for someone to arrive whether by jeep or horseback with news, magazines, and books.
Old Fort itself is struggling. Many buildings were totally destroyed, and some may never be built back. Still it endures. There is evidence that the Spanish were in the area around 1566. They stayed around for a while, not daring to plunge further west into Cherokee
country. The region stayed quiet until 1760 when a South Carolina colonial leader came exploring. In 1763 the British and the Cherokee Nation made a treaty agreeing that the British would not settle further west than the crest of the Blue Ridge mountains. Soon a stockade was built on purchased land and Old Fort began. Obviously, containing the eager settlers proved impossible and here we are, the Cherokee mostly gone.
Doug and I returned with a new look at certain happenings and inspired by what we had seen and learned. In spite of the dismal and frightening national and world events, people are carrying on doing good and helping each other. Hope is present.
Photo credits: The last four as noted or from town websites. The others are by the author.
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