Helene 2024
The Great Flood.
On September 27, 2024, our world — and the Western North Carolina community — changed forever. After days of heavy rain, the remnants of Hurricane Helene entered our corner of the Appalachian Mountains. What followed was historic, catastrophic, and life-changing.
By the time Helene reached our area, heavy rain left our soil saturated and rivers like the French Broad and Swannanoa were swelling. Into Friday morning, the storm brought torrential rain and hurricane-force gusts that caused biblical levels of destruction.
Dan and I, along with our son, Max, watched in horror as cars and telephone poles floated in our street, Riverside Drive, and water began to lap at the front door of our Chocolate Factory. Thanks to sandbags, most of the water was held at bay. The floodwaters rose to 39 inches up our front door.
From the Asheville Citizen-Times:
In Asheville, areas including Biltmore Village were devastated by flooding. According to the National Oceanic and Atmospheric Administration, the Swannanoa River at Biltmore crested at 26.1 feet, nearly 6 feet above the record, at 3:45 p.m. Friday. As of 10:30 p.m., the river was down to 20.9 feet. ... This was also more than five feet above what it did at its maximum in 1916 and slightly above the apparent 26-foot crest in April 1791, noted the climate office."
Asheville's Great Flood of 1916 saw the French Broad River crest at around 17 feet above flood stage; about 23.1 feet. Approximately 80 people were killed.
Before the storm
The front of our Chocolate Factory & Cafe on Tuesday evening before the storm's arrival.
Inside the Factory
With water lapping at the front doors, our sandbagging did seem to prevent some of the floodwaters from entering.
The Flood
Despite our best efforts, water did eventually flow inside, reaching about 8 inches and destroying our cafe area, classroom, and retail space. Our chocolate-making equipment, miraculously, was spared.
By late October, our team managed to restart chocolate production thanks to a 3,000-gallon tank and potable water trucked in from South Carolina. With grit and ingenuity, our production team came back to their craft.
The months that followed were marked by hardship. Potable water was still unavailable through the taps, power was inconsistent, and massive piles of wreckage replaced familiar homes and businesses. Yet, through the help of neighbors, volunteers, and kind strangers, we began to rebuild.
Today
Now, ten months later, much of the visible wreckage may be gone, but the impact lingers. Driving down Riverside Drive to our Chocolate Factory is still sobering — familiar yet unrecognizable. The economic and emotional toll continues, from lower visitor traffic to higher costs, from disrupted routines to the invisible weight of living through disaster.
And yet, we are still here. Still making chocolate. Still welcoming visitors. Still standing. Your support has buoyed us every step of the way. Thank you for believing in us and in this community.
Clockwise from left: The gymnastics auditorium across the street from our Chocolate Factory. Dan, our co-founder, in front of the 3000 lb water tank that allowed us to make chocolate after the storm. The destruction along Riverside Drive about a month after Helene. The front of the Chocolate Factory on Friday afternoon as the waters receded.
Left to right: The gymnastics auditorium across the street from our Chocolate Factory. Dan, our co-founder, in front of the 3000 lb water tank that allowed us to make chocolate after the storm. The destruction along Riverside Drive about a month after Helene. The front of the Chocolate Factory on Friday afternoon as the waters receded.