Editor’s Note: This is the first part of a series detailing the Hurricane Helene and Hurricane Milton relief efforts of Farm and Dairy Managing Editor Sara Welch and her childhood best friend Jessica Malek.
It started with a late-night text from my best friend, Jessica Malek. We hadn’t seen each other since our kids returned to school and random texts had become standard communication. Life gets busy for single moms when their kids are busy. It’s been a reality for most of our adult lives, despite never affecting our friendship, which has endured a lot over nearly 30 years.
“I want to go help the hurricane victims next weekend. I have no idea exactly where to start but I will need a hand. Are you available for a road trip? Can you make the time? It’s fine if you cannot. Figured I’d ask because I’ve made my mind up I am bringing supplies and a helping hand for the time I can offer,” Jess’ text read at 10:21 p.m. on Thursday, Oct. 3.
I replied, “I can go with you. How long are you thinking?”
Without considering any details outside of our desire to help, we decided we would leave Oct. 11 and head back home on Oct. 15. We brainstormed, but came up with no more than two sheltered mid-30s women can envision, spontaneously, late on a Thursday night. We had a week to pull everything together before we left.
We’re probably not the heroes anyone wanted, and reflecting on our entire journey south, it’s felt far from a monomyth.
The next morning, I scheduled an oil change for my deteriorating 2013 Ford Flex, ignorantly thinking it might somehow be involved or in any way practical in this endeavor and that was a sufficient next move. I also offered my humble assortment of camping supplies up for our mission and requested time off of work.
Jess researched the volunteer needs and requirements of disaster relief organizations responding to Hurricane Helene’s path of devastation. She also informed her coworkers, church, neighborhood and the University of Mount Union, where she’s completing her master’s studies, of our intentions. Monetary donations immediately started coming in and her employer, Geotab, committed to making a substantial contribution to our efforts. In 12 hours, she had collected hundreds of dollars — and everything became real — with no concrete plan in place.
At this stage, the only thing quelling my uncertainty was Jess’ passion and resourcefulness. The scope of it all felt immense and I was left asking myself, “How do you think you can help these people?”
I suggested meeting on Sunday to figure out the logistics before the onset of the regular work week.
Jess pressed on and found an individual leading relief efforts in St. Petersburg, Florida through Charis Disaster Response and a volunteer in North Carolina helping coordinate supply drop-offs to private airstrips. I woke up Saturday morning to a bevy of texts and emails to read, a call to register to volunteer via On Mission Network — a nationwide disaster relief organization Charis Disaster Response is partnered with — and a lot of doubt from Jess about my commitment to be involved.
I addressed Jess’ doubts first thing Saturday morning. Of course, I was in, despite how extemporaneous all of this felt at the time, because she asked and she’s my best friend, and I wanted to contribute to a cause bigger than myself.
I made it through the rest of the information she shared and signed up to volunteer with On Mission Network in St. Petersburg, Florida around noon.
A plan was starting to form. We would travel to Raleigh Executive Jetport — a takeoff point for local pilots and volunteers to shuttle critical supplies to smaller airstrips in remote, hard-hit areas in western North Carolina. Then, we would help On Mission Network clean up survivor’s homes in St. Petersburg. Of course, all of this information changed over the next six days.
On Sunday, neighbors started bringing donations to Jess’ house and early coverage of the quickly escalating Tropical Storm Milton dominated national news cycles. We both began to realize the volatility of our enterprise.
Still, we outlined each leg of the journey, figuring out what it would take during the coming week to pull off the trip we conjured up in under 48 hours. Design and structure replaced folly and uncertainty. We were as prepared as we could be, turning a late-night text into actionable tasks and tapping into the resources and networks at our disposal.
Donations were dropped off in droves, as the list of requested supplies coming out of North Carolina changed daily. Tropical Storm Milton became Hurricane Milton, suspending On Mission Network’s operations in St. Petersburg. The reality of responding to a disaster from afar set in, and we struggled to keep up.
However, the support we received was almost incomprehensible. We raised about $3,000 to purchase requested donations, which included chainsaws, bar and chain oil, replacement chains, a large box of various brands of baby formula, heavy-duty tarps, heavy-duty gloves, shovels, hot hands, headlamps, blankets, propane tanks, batteries, lighters and a Buddy heater. The University of Mount Union contributed hundreds of hygiene and menstrual kits, five large trash bags full of handmade tie blankets and various boxes of additional donations. Friends, family and neighbors donated a generator, 300 pairs of children’s winter gloves, rubber gloves, work gloves, coats, socks, blankets, tarps, metal water bottles, tampons and pads, over-the-counter medications, first aid supplies, hygiene supplies, disinfectant wipes, rain boots, sweaters, backpacks, tools, freeze-dried food and additional dry food items, bar and chain oil, chainsaw chains, TruFuel, detergent and other miscellaneous items. They also gave us gas money and prayed for us, and so many others offered encouragement and support along the way.
The outpouring of love we experienced was heartwarming. It was also overwhelming. We realized we had way too much to haul ourselves.
But in the same way everything else fell into place, someone came forward to help us take our donations to North Carolina. On the morning of Wednesday, Oct. 9, two days before we were set to leave, Jess got a text from her friend Gary Wallace expressing the same uncertainty we had been living, overcome by a desire to help.
“I’ve been preparing to go to Florida with my truck and trailer. Nervous to go. Do you have a location or a group to connect with in Florida? I don’t even know where to start but I have the ability to help,” Gary wrote.
We always had the will and now we had a way.
Our plans to drop everything off at Raleigh Executive Jetport fell through hours after Gary volunteered to help us. Due to logistical issues, the hanger would not accept donations after noon on Friday, Oct. 11 — earlier than we could drop them off. So, we chose NC27 Lower Creek Airport in Lenoir, North Carolina, from a list shared by the volunteer we had been working with.
The days before we left were filled with buying and sorting donations and adapting to ever-changing plans. Most of the time we were too busy to internalize the magnitude of what was happening or coming next. We leaned on each other through the anxiety and excitement of what lay ahead and nights of disrupted and very little sleep. The amount of love, trust and reliability in our friendship became its own driving force.
Our precarious plans found their footing whether by divine intervention or sheer determination to see them through, and we set off around 9 a.m. Friday morning with no guarantee that we’d have a place to land in Florida.
