Our Roots Run Deep: A Personal Reflection on the Destruction in Asheville & East Tennessee
The Work Has Just Begun
For the past ten days, it feels like everyone in Appalachia and beyond has been caught in a state of shock, grief, and helplessness.
None of us are sleeping soundly and all of our hearts are broken.
But even in the face of devastation, the resilience and compassion I’ve seen from neighbors, volunteers, and friends have given me so much hope.
We show up for each other around here. Our roots run deep.
I grew up in Fletcher, North Carolina, just outside of Asheville.
When I lived there, creeks flowed gently through backyards and rolling hills, cradling old barns and apple orchards. I played for hours in the creek behind my home, searching for turtles and crawdads, climbing trees, and hanging from vines.
Growing up in this place and being surrounded by constant natural beauty continues to inspire my art today.
The area has since become a bustling hub and home to hundreds of thousands of people.
Now, I’ve traveled all across the mountains of North Carolina and East Tennessee.
I’ve kayaked in Lake Lure and along the French Broad. I’ve hiked in the dense forests.
And I can honestly say that this is one of the most beautiful places in our country.
Seeing it and the surrounding areas devastated, with familiar places reduced to ruins, is heart-wrenching.
Entire neighborhoods, once full of life, are now silent, broken by floodwaters that destroyed more than just homes.
Some of my friends narrowly escaped the area. Over 12,000+ are still missing.
In Asheville, a city cherished for its connection to plant medicine, its sense of community, vibrant art, moss-covered mountains, and soulful heart, the French Broad River surged beyond its limits, spilling into the beloved River Arts District.
What were once lively galleries, concert venues, and welcoming cafes—spaces that nurtured creativity and friendship—are now filled with silt, toxic mud, dead animals, and debris. It’s hard to reconcile the sheer destruction of these once-bustling places with the joy and laughter they used to hold.
Just a short drive away, Black Mountain and Boone faced a similar fate. The charming, winding roads that led to quaint antique shops, art studios and cozy cottages are now buried beneath layers of mud and rock.
In Chimney Rock, it’s almost as if the town was erased overnight. Each evening, I find myself staring at images of the wreckage on my small screen, fighting back tears and feeling the weight of helplessness and heartbreak. If it’s this overwhelming to witness from afar, I can only imagine the pain and devastation felt by those who called it home.
In East Tennessee, less than forty minutes from my house, Johnson County and Unicoi County are grappling with the same devastation. The rivers have overflowed, and the dam has burst, washing away bridges and roads.
The most challenging aspect of this situation is that the people living here are completely isolated from the rest of the world because many of their homes are built into mountains and cliffsides. Even on a good day, the roads leading to them are quite precarious.
The beauty of these places hasn’t disappeared, though—it’s simply hidden beneath the surface, waiting to bloom again with the help of a community that’s as strong and loving as the mountains themselves.
The spirit of resilience is palpable. Neighbors are helping neighbors, pulling each other and their belongings from the wreckage. Strangers have become friends, bound by shared loss and a common goal—to rise from this devastation together. The National Guard helicopters buzz overhead, delivering water and meals to those isolated by impassable roads. Every meal handed out, every supply drop, is a small beacon of hope, a reminder that they are not forgotten.
The damage is profound, not only to structures but also to the sense of security that these communities once had.
People have lost loved ones, their businesses, and their entire livelihood.
They are still without power and clean water and are several weeks away from gaining back what most of us take for granted.
Massive trees and boulders block access to neighborhoods, keeping the most vulnerable from the help and medical attention they need.
The recovery will take months, maybe years, but we can make a difference starting now.
If there’s one thing we can do, it’s to keep showing up for them in whatever way we can—whether it’s buying supplies, donating funds, or spreading the word.
As much as I want to drop everything to go and help, travel to this area and self-deployment is not recommended.
What the people in these communities desperately need is funding, food assistance, power, water, and medical supplies.
Here in Knoxville, business owners, musicians, and artists are working hard to provide aid and assistance to these communities.
They are not only our neighbors but also our friends and loved ones, and they would do the same for us. Every little bit helps, and together, we can be part of the healing process.
I have compiled a shortlist of organizations that are actively working to benefit the communities affected.
Global Empowerment Mission
World Central Kitchen
Open Doors Asheville
BeLoved Asheville
Poder Emma Community Ownership
Northeast Tennessee Disaster Relief
RISE Erwin, Tennessee
Even if you’re unable to donate, please help spread the word to those who can. The news cycle will eventually move on, but the struggle here will continue long after the headlines have faded. Your voice can help keep attention on this area and ensure that support reaches those still in need. If you have questions or comments on how you can help, do not hesitate to comment on this post!
I want to be open with you all, as this is my space to share candidly—these are hard times for myself and other small business owners.
The challenges never seem to end, and I'm feeling quite exhausted.
The cost of materials is continuously increasing, shipments for basic goods are experiencing delays, machines are frequently malfunctioning, and our team now consists of only me, my videographer, and Kate.
But despite these hurdles, I’m filled with gratitude for the people who continue to support us and help keep our vision alive.
We’re navigating this season together, and I’m hopeful for the brighter days ahead.
I'm grateful for everyone who continues to share my work, support and purchase it, and write about me.
Read a wonderful new article about me, Phillips Forged & Primeaux, in West Knoxville Lifestyle.
I have really been leaning into creating long form educational kitchen knife content.
My videographer and I spent a long time making this video on the evolution, design, and story behind my Primeaux Kitchen Knife Handles.
While you’re there, check out the very first video I made about Primeaux, where Kate shares our vision of creating kitchen knives with intention, purpose, and elegance at the heart of every design.
As I reflect on everything that’s happened over these past few weeks, it’s impossible not to feel the weight of it all. I truly believe that together, we can help these communities rise again.
From Knoxville to Asheville and beyond, we’re all connected by more than just proximity.
We’re connected by the love we share for these mountains and the strength we draw from each other.
Thank you for taking the time to read this, for caring, and for being part of the journey ahead.
Have a great weekend. Stay safe out there.
Let me know if you need anything by replying to this message and as always please engage with this post by liking it, sharing it and commenting!
So well written and heartfelt. I wanted to share this link for anyone needing help in the Asheville area. This is a map of local resources, water stations, shelters, and assistance hubs...https://helenehelpasheville.ushahidi.io/map