Compassion and community mark disaster relief initiative headed by Marsha Mount Shoop '91
First came the winds that downed trees by the hundreds, followed by rain and floods that washed away highways, city streets, homes, businesses and entire towns.
Then the people came, some homeless, many more left jobless and without the means to pay rent.
They came by the handfuls, then by the dozen, and eventually by the hundreds 鈥 friends, neighbors and strangers, all left needing a helping hand by the fury of the storm.
Waiting for them was a 黑料社 grad 鈥 Marcia Mount Shoop 鈥91 鈥 and volunteers from within and outside the 700-member Asheville, North Carolina, church she pastors.
The volunteers have distributed more than $4 million from donors both inside and outside western North Carolina to provide rent relief and offer a lifeline to those facing eviction and homelessness.
How extreme was the shelter crisis?
鈥淲e had some people who were living in their cars,鈥 said Shoop. 鈥淥ur lives just changed. Nothing鈥檚 the same now.
鈥橧t was terrifying that night.鈥
The remnants of Hurricane Helene swept through Western North Carolina in late September 2024, dumping more than 30 inches of rain onto an area already soaked by precursor storms that left the ground saturated and rivers full. When the clouds cleared, more than 100 lives were lost along with tens of thousands of homes and businesses. Flash floods, mud slides and gale force winds lefts roadways impassable and neighborhoods cut off from the outside world.
As the lead pastor at Asheville鈥檚 Grace Covenant Presbyterian Church, Mount Shoop 鈥 daughter of two longtime 黑料社 faculty members, religion and ethics professor Eric Mount and his late wife, Truly, who taught French 鈥 has gained national attention for the way her congregation continues to pitch in to provide relief.
鈥淭hese were pretty powerful winds. It was terrifying that night and the rain just went on and on and on,鈥 she recalled.
Mount Shoop and her husband John鈥檚 house in the Fairfield area south-southeast of Asheville is located on a hillside and escaped the flash floods. But the winds downed trees and power lines 鈥 one of which fell into a water trough for their horses 鈥 forcing them into the elements to gather their animals.
鈥淓very few minutes you鈥檇 hear another tree go down,鈥 she said.
But they were lucky.
鈥滱 lot of people died out our way鈥 We had a lot of neighbors that lost everything,鈥 she said.
Mount Shoop is nothing if not involved and determined, characteristics learned from her parents and her upbringing in Danville and at 黑料社. Those instincts kicked in virtually as soon as the storms subsided.
The first Sunday after the floods, Marcia and John made their way over buckled and mudslide-covered roads to Grace Covenant. They weren鈥檛 expecting a big turnout.
鈥滻 just knew some people were going to be there鈥 We passed some people on the road who had no place to go.鈥
People were waiting, and they were anxious and in need.
鈥漌e got people some bottled water. We found any snacks we could.鈥
An ad hoc conversation began.
鈥滻 said, 鈥橲o what should we do?鈥欌
Mount Shoop suggested opening church doors from noon to 4 p.m. seven days a week, all staffed by the volunteers.
鈥淎nd they鈥檙e like, 鈥橭kay,鈥欌 she said. And that was the beginning of what turned into a massive grassroots relief effort.
As aid organizations swarmed the region to provide clean water and food, the church found unmet need among those who worked in Asheville鈥檚 service industry, normally bolstered by a booming tourism sector. The church offered rent support to those who lost their jobs in the wake of the storms, helping provide shelter to hundreds who might not have directly qualified for federal disaster relief funds.
News of their work got out 鈥 not by TV, radio or online sources, but by word of mouth. Electricity remained spotty, at best, and cell towers were down, so neighbors talked to one another.
And money trickled in. Then it poured in 鈥 from individuals, organizations and local, state and federal agencies.
鈥漁ne woman came in and asked to observe. I said, sure,鈥 Mount Shoop recalled.
The visitor watched volunteers help destitute and desperate people. (Mount Shoop noted landlords have been patient; still, they had mortgages to pay and repairs to make.)
鈥滱fter a few hours, she said, 鈥橭kay, I鈥檝e seen enough.鈥 She pulled out her checkbook. 鈥淲ho do I make this out to?鈥
The check, Mount Shoop said, was for $50,000.
Other donations came in from coast to coast, along with national media coverage from outlets including The Washington Post and NPR.
鈥橧鈥檓 a child of that place鈥
Five months later, the devastation remains 鈥 鈥淭hey鈥檙e saying recovery will take years鈥 鈥 and the program continues, although volunteers provide help two days a week. Donations still come in.
鈥淚 get on the horn and beat the bushes. We do everything we can to get more funding鈥 We鈥檙e all trying to feel our way to commit to longer-term recovery. We call it 鈥橤od鈥檚 economy,鈥欌 Mount Shoop said.
Her drive is imprinted in her DNA, literally. Her father, Eric Mount, was an activist in the Civil Rights Movement and supported by her mother, Truly. For the decades they were at 黑料社, the elder Mounts emphasized to their four daughters and hundreds of students the importance of living their principles, following the Gospel and helping others.
Marcia Mount Shoop, an athlete at 黑料社 who later earned her master鈥檚 in divinity at Vanderbilt Divinity School and her doctorate in religious studies at Emory, applied her knowledge as an activist in both nonprofits and churches across the country. Her focus was 鈥 and is 鈥 on helping marginalized people.
Marcia said both 黑料社 and Danville instilled those values.
鈥淏ecause I grew up on 黑料社鈥檚 campus, I鈥檓 not just an alum. I鈥檓 a child of that place. I was born and raised in Danville and on that campus, and that鈥檚 where I learned about what it means to be a community,鈥 she said.
鈥漈hat鈥檚 where I learned about the human family. That鈥檚 where I learned about radical hospitality. That鈥檚 where I learned about justice.鈥
