After the Storm: Leadership Reflections from a Mountain Hurricane - Part 1

When the Lights Go Out, Community Illuminates Leadership

Bearing Witness

Standing on the bridge Friday afternoon on Sept. 27, 2024, I witnessed something I'll never forget. People arrived by the dozens, parking their cars and joining the crowd. The hurricane's violent rain and wind had passed, leaving behind a gorgeous sunny day that offered a welcome but uneasy peace. Below us, the French Broad River devoured our River Arts District (RAD) – the cool, cultural heart of Asheville, a neighborhood which gave our mountain town much of her soul. And the river wasn't finished consuming.

Few spoke. We stood there, a continuous flow of strangers united in stunned silence, gazing at a river four times her normal width, unaware that she was continuing to rise. Despite the clear skies above, runoff from the saturated ground swelled the river which would ultimately rise 29 feet above normal, erasing what little remained of RAD. In that moment, we weren't just watching a natural disaster; we were witnessing the dissolution of our assumptions about safety, control, and normalcy.

I find myself reflecting on a fundamental truth about crisis leadership: Sometimes, leadership begins not with action or words, but with bearing witness together. In moments of unprecedented difficulty, before plans can be made or solutions proposed, there is power in simply being present – in acknowledging the reality of what's happening alongside those who share your experience.

Within those hours, our city lost power, water, and communication with the outside world, this lesson in presence would become the foundation for what followed. The simple act of showing up, of standing together in uncertainty, would prove more powerful than a carefully crafted crisis management plan.


The Illusion of Normal

Two days prior, storm warnings came from friends and news sources alike: a hurricane was barreling north toward Asheville. Hailing from Chicago, where the only real threats are windchill and the Bears blowing it in the final minute of a game, we couldn't imagine a hurricane penetrating so far inland. So it was business as usual: I worked from home Thursday to avoid a drive to Hickory, NC, we filled a few containers with extra water (more etiquette than serious preparation), and watched a movie to close out the evening.

As leaders, our mental models – our deeply held beliefs about how the world works – can blind us to emerging risks. Sometimes, these assumptions aren't just wrong; they're dangerous.

By Saturday morning, those assumptions lay shattered. Water abruptly stopped running from our faucets, and our friends packed their car destined for sanctuary in the Midwest, only to return hours later with shocking news: Asheville was cut off in all directions. The realization hit hard: systems we take for granted – water, transportation, communication – can disappear in the blink of an eye. 

From Crisis to Connection

With our city cut off from the outside world, the scariest part wasn't the darkness or even the lack of running water – it was the information vacuum. No internet. No cell service. No way to know what was happening beyond our immediate surroundings. In crisis leadership, we often focus on action plans and resource management, but I was learning a more fundamental truth: information itself is a vital resource that creates stability and helps people move from fear to problem-solving.

That's when our doorbell rang. Our next-door neighbor, Ali, came to check in. We stood in our doorway, exchanging vital information. She told us about Buncombe County's daily radio broadcasts about the disaster. We shared the precious location of a creek where we collected water to flush toilets. She shared that our local anarchist bookstore, Firestorm, had become a daily gathering point for the community. And my wife and I made plans to make the next gathering.

The independent bookstore, known more for challenging established systems than emergency response, had transformed into something beautifully ironic - a center of community organization amidst the chaos. Without any formal direction or authority, Firestorm became a hub where information, resources, and hope were exchanged.

As a leader, I recognized what was happening: when formal systems fail, human connection becomes our most resilient network. The simple act of knocking on a neighbor's door, sharing what you know, checking on their needs – these aren't just acts of kindness. They're the building blocks of community resilience. Information flows through these personal connections, transforming fear into collective problem-solving.

Leadership Emerges

In their parking lot, Firestorm staff hauled out large dry erase boards and began shouting out topics – “Water” “Food” “Travel” “Medical!”  The staff invited the crowd to shout back what they knew, as they furiously scribbled each update until they ran out of board space.  They were clearly making this up as they went along. It was unpolished but effective: a community coming together to share critical information.

The crowd swelled beyond a hundred people, and a single notebook circulated with two simple headings: 'Needs' and 'Offers.' Need a chainsaw? Write it down. Have extra first aid kits? Write it down.

When they asked for volunteers with loud voices to help relay messages, I raised my hand. Those who know me tease me about my natural thunderous (and distracting) volume, but this was time to put it to good use! As I helped amplify announcements and spot folks with questions in the crowd, my wife and friends – all of us operations-minded professionals – couldn't help but chuckle at the inefficiency of it all. No formal process, no optimization, just humans inefficiently helping humans.

It hit me: crisis leadership isn't about perfect processes or optimal solutions. It's about rising above the chaos, embracing adaptability, and focusing on what truly matters. And, in that Firestorm parking lot, that's exactly what was happening.

When Leadership Flows

As Hurricane Helene reshaped our landscape, it also reshaped my understanding of crisis leadership. It stripped away the complexities we often layer onto leadership theory and revealed something essential: leadership in crisis isn't about having all the answers or crafting perfect plans. It emerges in simple, human moments – in bearing witness together at a bridge, in checking on neighbors, in raising your voice so others can hear vital information.

Each phase of our experience revealed different facets of this truth. The bridge moment taught us about the power of presence. The early hours of isolation showed us how information itself creates stability. And at Firestorm, we learned that when we rise above the chaos and focus on what truly matters, leadership naturally emerges.

Key Leadership Reflections:

  • The Power of Presence: Sometimes leadership begins with simply being there, bearing witness alongside others

  • Information as Stability: In crisis, information becomes a vital resource that helps move people from fear to action

  • Connection as Infrastructure: When formal systems fail, human connections become our most resilient network

  • Adaptive Focus: True leadership means rising above the chaos to focus on what matters most - taking care of each other

Fear travels fast in a crisis, but what we witnessed in Asheville was how quickly support and compassion can outpace it. When people choose to stand together, even the darkest moments become bearable. And the human spirit can prove more resilient than the systems we build.

This is part one of "After the Storm: Leadership Reflections from a Mountain Hurricane."  In part two, we'll look back at the crucial days that followed. I didn't know it yet, but standing in that Firestorm parking lot, running on adrenaline and possibility, I was about to learn an entirely different kind of leadership lesson – one that would find me sitting at my laptop, unable to complete basic tasks, while an internal voice demanded that I "Do more!" The hurricane had passed, but a new test was beginning.

About the Author

As a Success Architect at Liberated Leaders, Alan leverages 20 years of experience in technology leadership and consulting to help businesses optimize their technology strategies, gain an edge, and scale their operations. He is a twice certified executive and leadership coach who firmly believes that true business transformation can only occur with mindful investment in people and technology. Find out more about Alan on our About page.

Note: This blog was 90% human generated and 10% machine (AI) generated.

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