SWANNANOA, N.C. — About five months after Helene tore through Beacon Village, the community is still rebuilding — one home, one family and one act of kindness at a time.


What You Need To Know

  • The Beacon Village community is still rebuilding — one home, one family and one act of kindness at a time

  • The historic neighborhood was originally built in the 1920s by the Beacon Blanket Manufacturing Company to house its workers

  • When Helene's floodwaters surged to the rooftops, the storm destroyed homes, displaced residents and left behind mud, debris and uncertainty

The historic neighborhood, originally built in the 1920s by the Beacon Blanket Manufacturing Company to house its workers, has been home to generations of families. When floodwaters surged to the rooftops, the storm destroyed homes, displaced residents and left behind mud, debris and uncertainty.

For Miah Reis, the connection to her home runs deep. Her great-grandparents moved into the house in 1932, and every corner holds memories.

"This is the room that my brother and I would spend the night in when we would stay at my grandparents," Reis said. "I remember my grandfather really loved that show 'Unsolved Mysteries.' We would sit there and watch it, and then we would come in and go to bed, and I would just lie there awake, petrified someone was going to get me."

Reis was at work as a 911 telecommunicator the night the storm hit. It took three days before she was able to return home to see the damage firsthand.

"I was literally wondering, what am I going to do? How am I going to get this cleaned up?" Reis recalled."I was literally wondering, what am I going to do? How am I going to get this cleaned up?" Reis recalled. "And some vehicle just pulled up in my driveway, a couple got out, and they just asked, 'Hey, do you need help with your house?' And I'm like, 'Yes, I absolutely do.'"

Volunteers helped strip her house down to the studs, clearing out the mud and debris. With flooring, framing, electrical and HVAC now in place, Reis is hopeful for the future but keeping her expectations in check.

"I usually christen a place by dancing the Charleston in it," she said. "I know it's so strange, but I don't know. It's just always been something that I do, and that'll be the first thing that I do."

While Reis sees progress, a few houses down, Michael Burgin's home remains stuck in limbo. Standing water still surrounds his house due to a drainage issue, halting the rebuild.

"We were going to be starting in mid-December, and here we are well into February. We haven't been able to start because of this," Burgin said.

Making matters worse, Burgin and those around him never had flood insurance.

"I was told I didn’t need flood insurance by my insurance company, that this was not a flood zone," he said.

His family’s escape from the storm was a terrifying experience. His son and partner were in the attic with him as the water was rising.

"I felt like there was a strong possibility we were all going to die up there," Burgin said, recalling how his family swam out through a window to escape. "Even once we got out and we were on the roof, we started hearing all these foundations cracking, and we didn't know if the home was going to float away."

A community brought closer together

Despite the devastation, neighbors who once barely spoke now hold regular meetings and potlucks. Save Beacon Village, a group formed in the aftermath has raised over $120,000 to help in the rebuild.

"It's been a pretty surreal experience because it's kind of like becoming really close with like 11 new people all at exactly the same time," Burgin said.

For Reis, the sense of community is a return to what Beacon Village once was.

"When this village was originally built, people were like that," she said. "They knew their neighbor. They cared about each other. They took care of each other."

Looking ahead, but not too far

Both Reis and Burgin hope to move back in the summer, but neither wants to look too far ahead. The road to recovery is still long, but it's one they’re not walking alone.

"Just seeing all the work that everyone's put into getting things back to the way they were, it would feel cruel to accept all that help and then just leave," Burgin said.

For Reis, staying feels like fate.

"If this had to happen, I wouldn't have asked for a better group of people to work with," she said. "It just kind of felt like I’m meant to stay here, I’m meant to rebuild, and I’m meant to just continue the legacy that was my family's."