Helene left Anderson County looking like a 'war zone.' It could have been even worse

ANDERSON — Helene's violent swirl through southern Appalachia left severed tree shrapnel along Upstate roads.

Gas lines formed. 

A power outage kept nearly 95,000 county customers in the dark more than a day after the storm departed.

"Anderson County looks like a war zone," said administrator Rusty Burns.

The Associated Press reported at least 52 people in all were killed by Helene nationwide. Of those, 22 have been reported across South Carolina. 

Bobby Foster on Sept. 27 was driving his Nissan Frontier in Pelzer when he was struck head-on by a Ford Explorer traveling the other direction. The Explorer attempted to evade a downed tree and power line, according to County Coroner Greg Shore. Foster was 83. The others killed in Anderson County were Sandy Fisher and Christine Schmeiske, whose longtime partner called "my everything."

But in many ways, the storm could have been worse in the Upstate county. A cresting river didn't reach its expected peak. Downed trees in yards often barely missed homes. While the county's damage assessment was far from complete, when the trees connected, the limbs appeared to scratch more than they scarred.

This was the case on State Route 81, where massive trees fell around Whitney Owens' property, but none hit her home.

Instead of repairing a broken roof, Owens stood watch as her brother and father worked to free a metal fence lifted by an uprooted cedar tree. Her father, Marshall Cash, hooked a Bobcat's talons to separate the fence from the ground. Cash's other son owns the property.

He was down in the Lowcountry for Helene, trawling the storm-spared waters for shrimp. 

A greater disaster was spared along the Saluda River. Federal tracking in a nearby county showed the river reached a historic level at 12:45 p.m. Sept. 28, cresting more than 5 feet above the major flood stage.

Anderson County emergency management director Josh Hawkins said that his team went door to door along the river, warning residents about the rising waters. 

He went to sleep Sept. 27, and no imminent water rescue woke him from his slumber. The water didn't rise as high as he expected. 

Ann Walling, 79, was fearful enough to pack a suitcase as the storm rolled in. But just over the Anderson County line, she decided to wait it out with her husband.

The water crept into her backyard. Over its typical riverside, which she calls "the holler." Past an intermediate area she dubs "the bottoms." There stands a flag pole marking the waterline for a past year's flood. The water settled 15 feet closer in what she calls her "backyard."

Some weren't as lucky. The clayish-brown water rose to doorways, forcing emergency workers to rescue at least one neighbor from their home. Hawkins' team safely ushered another family to dry land, just up the road.

Snapped power lines crisscrossed streets throughout the county, sometimes swinging when cars drove over them. The outages kept currents from flowing into stoplights, causing drivers to nervously ease through intersections. Long car lines signaled rare open gas stations; many others didn't have the electricity to function.

At an Anderson Shell station, where at one point 50 cars waited in line, Tara Brady had been inching along for nearly half an hour. As she approached the front, Brad Bell approached asking to go ahead. He later explained his car was below empty.

Brady was ready to let Bell hop in front of her when another woman in line learned that he was going ahead. She would not allow it.

“Southern hospitality my ass, I’m from Jersey!” she yelled.

Little did she know, Brady was from New York. Perhaps sensing an argument, she drove ahead.

Bell would need to wait.