Some letters sent in to Local Cloth...

October 2, 2024

“My Beloved Asheville” by Judy Levine

The only thing good about this disaster [Helene] is that by losing power, I cannot see the pictures of the devastation in my beloved community. I am writing from a city that I love.

As a close friend said, I have been lucky to find my tribe. Like a lot of folks here, I am a transplant. I took it gradually. I was born in NYC and lived there until 1996 - a town of 10 million people. I moved to Charlotte for a job transfer - a town of 1 million people, and then, finally, to my beloved Asheville - a town of 100k.

What I have found about Asheville is that everyone I meet I want to get to know better. No one cares about what you did for a living. It’s just all about “who are you”, “what moves you?”. Aside from the people I want to get to know, the generosity is outstanding. Almost everyone I know volunteers. The city is overflowing with non-profits started by inspired young people wanting to make our city better. Many older adults volunteer. And everyone generously supports the non-profit organizations. It is humbling to be a part of it.

Then there are the mountains! They are all around us and we see them everywhere we go. Simply put, it is gorgeous. Someone told me when I first moved here 12 years ago that if you drop a rock from the sky over Asheville you will hit either a therapist or a Subaru and if you are lucky, you will hit “a therapist in a Subaru”!

Being a member of the Southern Highland Craft Guild, it is glorious to live in a town that values the arts and the artists.

One day I was walking with a friend in the 125-years-old Riverside Cemetery at Montford (a neighborhood in Asheville). It reminded me, I was the only person I knew who was taking 2 dying classes at the same time. I was taking a class called “A Year to Live” by Stephen Levine, the Buddhist teacher. At the same time I was taking a silk dyeing class! I purchased my cemetery lot on a block where some “not-yet deceased” folks will reside. They cordon off the block once a year and throw a picnic. I thought to myself, “Yeah, that’s where I want to be!”

I also adore the city motto “Keep Asheville Weird”! I like to say Asheville is like NYC in the 60’s - free love . . . only without the sex part.

So, as Helene left town last Friday, my hubby and I decided, (without even talking about it) that we’re going to stay in our home with or without running water. No laundry for a month? (As if anyone I know could run out of clean clothes in a month). Good news is we’ll be able to change our sheets once at mid-October and we can keep holding hands in the dark each night!

We have already established a routine of scraping together a dinner from whatever food we have left, taking a walk in the neighborhood and chatting with neighbors we meet along the way, then sitting on the porch and reading in the remaining daylight. And when it is too dark we switch to battery operated reading lights. Then we move into the pitch black living room, light up two tea lights, hold hands and listen to my husband’s ancient transistor radio hearing the day’s news from around Asheville.

My heart hurts thinking about what I will see at some point. Tears are overflowing as I write this. It’s always “other people” caught in storms, never us, until now it’s us! As one of my favorite Buddhist teachers, Joseph Goldstein says, “…anything can happen at any time”.

Judy Levine (shortened and lightly edited by S. Shiver)

From  a donor on GoFundMe and why she donated:

~October 14, 2024

"I am a weaver and fiber artist, and I saw social media posts about a tapestry show that was to have been held at your gallery. Then I heard about your organization from a Fibershed post. I have been devastated by the damage from Helene, and felt helpless and unsure about where to even start helping. Then there was a photo of a spinning wheel in the mud, and that opened my heart and I knew I needed to help fiber folks. I know fiber people are strong and resilient, and I just hope that my small cash donation also brings mojo for getting through the long, painful recovery process."