Every single drop of rain contributed to the overwhelming flooding caused by Hurricane Helene.

In today’s technologically advanced world, it’s easy to feel like our individual votes get lost amid the chaos of politics. Local issues often feel overshadowed by the rapid news cycles discussing topics that seem distant or out of our reach.

However, when we use our voting rights, each vote collectively helps to shape the political arena, much like how every drop of rain contributed to the devastating storm that forever altered a small tourist town called Bat Cave, North Carolina, situated between Asheville and Chimney Rock.

Bat Cave, with its uniquely whimsical name, was a picturesque town without a single traffic light, where Valerie at the post office greeted you with friendly conversation and bills would dutifully make their way down the winding Lake Lure Highway to the small post office, which unfortunately ended up four feet deep in mud and water after Helene’s rampage on September 27.

The wider political turmoil often felt far removed from the peaceful riverside town by the Rocky Broad River.

Before the disaster, Bat Cave was a refuge for those wanting to escape the noise and congestion of city life.

The residents of Bat Cave are noticeably diverse—socially, politically, racially, and culturally. Some have lived here for generations, surrounded by natural beauty while others came for the stunning trails, waterfalls, and lakes, often overlooked compared to the more famous tourist spots like Hendersonville, Asheville, and Black Mountain.

Our survival was uncertain

Bat Cave was cherished for its diversity and a spirit of kindness that reflected the true melting-pot idealism of America.

It was a community where my neighbor Candy would set up blankets and cots on her porch during storms, ready to offer shelter to anyone who lost power or needed a safe space.

On the morning of September 27, we took refuge on her porch, one of the few safe spots not engulfed in flooding or landslides. We huddled there, comforting our frightened pets and holding our breath as the storm raged around us, watching helplessly as neighboring homes succumbed to mudslides, reinforcing how precarious our situation was.

While many tragically lost their lives that morning, our group of six managed to survive and save most of our pets from a community that was washed away.

In the aftermath, we quickly realized that the beloved mountain town we sought solace in had been left in ruins.

What changed my life wasn’t just the trauma of those harrowing days, but the profound sense of camaraderie and neighborly love that emerged amidst the chaos.

The flood took away everything unnecessary in my life, leaving only what matters most—my loved ones.

Thanks to Helene, I may occasionally forget the innate goodness in people, but my faith in humanity has been profoundly restored through this tragedy.

Natural disasters reveal truths and bridge divides

While I’ve heard about the-reaching impacts of community bonding during disasters, I had never witnessed it myself until now.

The remarkable strength of humans uniting during crises transcends politics, cultural differences, gender, and any other imposed divisions.

What I have learned as a survivor and supporter is this: compassion prevails in disaster. No matter our political differences, we feel an innate urge to help each other, with no space for hate or judgment—only a genuine desire to assist, love, and support our fellow beings in their time of need.

These profound realizations emerge from shared tragedies.

By voting in the upcoming election, we can help foster these truths and bring us closer together, no matter our individual political affiliations.

Voting is not just about personal preference; it reflects our commitment to one another as a community, even if our choices oppose those of our neighbors. It plays an essential role in preserving the strength of our collective liberty.

Residents of Bat Cave are proclaiming our unity with the phrase “North Carolina Strong,” highlighting our shared resilience. We are determined to make it to the polling stations, motivated even more by the memory of those we’ve lost.

As my dear friend Kris Brightbill reminded me with a quote from Ernest Hemingway’s “A Farewell to Arms,” we are choosing to be “strong at the broken places.”

No matter what happens, I will definitely cast my vote. Local election officials have made it convenient for survivors like myself to find new voting locations. I will join with each of you, becoming part of the collective movement toward reclaiming our freedom on Tuesday.

Blake Smith is a clinical therapist and long-distance runner from Bat Cave, North Carolina. He experienced the loss of his home and vehicle due to severe flooding caused by Hurricane Helene and is temporarily residing with friends in the Asheville area alongside his dog, Rizzo.