Charlotte-Douglas Airport on September 27th, 2024
Updated: Oct 9
Photo: Marco Bello of Bat Cave, NC
Abby Spurling- Contributing Writer
My plane touched down at 1:30 pm at the Charlotte-Douglas Airport in North Carolina on September 27th, 2024. As I stepped out of the skybridge and into the airport, it was a sea of people. Like schools of fish all seamlessly moving around one another. All going in opposite directions. I cut through the crowd and found a free space to bear my surroundings. I stood still, letting everyone flow around me. I searched for people running to their gates. I always find entertainment in people watching. However, I realized this time that hardly anyone seemed to care where they were going. The crowd was wandering around the airport. There were no mothers short-breathed giving out directions and documents. I saw artists slugging by wearing as many layers as possible with both arms full of bags and equipment. I began to move with the crowd and found my gate back to Cincinnati. In a span of a few minutes, a handful of flights got delayed. Lines began to form in front of every gate attendant. As I sat there, I was joined by a woman in her mid to late 20s dressed in business casual with a tight bun and matching luggage. I wandered where she was headed, presuming a business trip. That’s when she answered a phone call. “Hi Grandpa!” she began to get teary eyed and her voice shaky. “Yeah. I’m ok!” She said as tears began flowing down her cheeks. “I had no water. No electricity. No cell service. It was so dark! I love to hear your voice, it’s my first real hit of dopamine. Nathan just called and said he had to find a hotel near the airport after dropping me off. All of the roads to our house are gone.” I began to wonder how she made it to the airport. I noticed later in the day that almost everyone left that detail out. So focused on the victory of making it. No strangers were asking one another where they were going or coming from in small talk. The airport TVs played news coverage of Hurricane Helene hitting Appalachia. Thousands of people sat near the gates and watched as whole communities were left stranded. I watched as some families hopped gate to gate, just needing somewhere to rest.
There was a red flag waving “Juxtaposition” as people impatiently waited to board a plane headed on vacation. “I just hope we make it to the beach” one woman said with a groan and an eye roll. I looked up at her gate and it read Orlando. As people were carrying all the belongings they still owned in a carryon off the same plane.
I returned home, to my small northern Midwest chunk of the world. The halls of the CVG airport began to feel like a holy place. We were all safe. A group of guys began to tell a story about how they were on a bachelor trip in Asheville. They tried for days to evacuate as their air bnb filled up with water and the floor washed away. They had to ration the snacks and water they brought. When I got home on Sunday September 29th, a section of Wilmington was still without power. Schools were shut down and forced to throw all their food out. Wilmington College’s campus was without power for most of the weekend affecting all residents.
The effects of Hurricane Helene are not near the end. The stories that I heard from survivors in the airport are the lucky ones. Whole towns have been stripped of their roads, fresh water, sewer, gas and civilization as a whole. Parts of Appalachia have turned into a post-apocalyptic world as people fight for very slim resources.
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World Central Kitchen is trucking in food and water to North Carolina, Tennessee, Georgia, and Florida.
Red Cross Central Appalachian Region. They visit different shelter areas donating clothes, blankets, food, chargers, hygiene products, etc.
They are sending out millions of diapers, baby formula, blankets, and anything children need.
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