After Helene's destruction, a mountain town reliant on fall tourism wonders what's next

Freddie Pell helps lift a vintage wooden chair off the sidewalk and back inside his art gallery. It's starting to rain in downtown Boone, and he doesn't want it to get soaked — again.

Inside, vast muddy puddles spread across the room as workers use mops to push the water out the door. A thin dark line on the wall — about a foot up from the floor — shows how high the water rose when Tropical Storm Helene came barreling through on Friday, Pell said.

“Luckily, most of our art is on the wall,” Pell said Monday, gesturing to the vibrant paintings and prints crafted by local artists.

In the days after Helene razed much of western North Carolina, some store owners in downtown Boone have a lot of cleanup to do and don't know if they'll see much business at all for the foreseeable future — a critical problem for a town of about 19,000 people that relies on tourism, especially in the fall.

Like many towns that dot the Blue Ridge Mountains, Boone sees flocks of visitors eager to witness the cascade of vivid colors from the changing autumn leaves starting in October. Many also come to cheer on various sports teams at Appalachian State University. The rush of tourists brings millions of dollars to the town, as well as the state.

But Helene's devastation throws that all into question.

Across Watauga County, where Boone is located, many residents have no power or cell service. Several roads are washed out, leaving people trapped or forced to find another way out. Emergency service personnel worked nonstop to rescue people.

On the highway that snakes up toward downtown Boone, downed trees precariously lie upside down on the mountainside along the road. In some places, power lines sag under them like a slingshot.

Once on King Street — the main road that slices through downtown Boone — the sidewalks' dull muddy sheen is a reminder of the rushing murky waters that engulfed the street as the storm plowed through.

Some people roam the sidewalk, curious about what businesses they can enter. Many were still closed Monday, and it's unclear when they'll reopen.

Businesses take time to recover — then worry what's next

The back door of Melanie's, a brunch spot on King Street, floods during a normal downpour, co-owner Paul Tuttle said. After seeing the “apocalyptic” damage from Helene, Tuttle expected the worst when he ventured to town on Saturday.

He walked in to find the building — which dates back to the early 1900s — largely unscathed. A mat Tuttle propped up against the door to seal it had surprisingly stopped water from seeping in, he said.

The restaurant reopened on Sunday, but he wasn't concerned about making money just then. Despite having no internet and operating under a boil water advisory, Tuttle said he wanted to stay open for storm victims in need of a hot meal.

That doesn't mean he isn't nervous about what the coming weeks will bring for the cafe. Tuttle is already having conversations with his business partner on what to expect. Most of the restaurant's profit is made between July and October — with October being the second-best month for business, he said.

“I don't know if anyone wants to come up here if they were normally coming to look at one of the prettiest places in the whole country, and now they're coming to look at devastation,” Tuttle said.

Some are noticing warning signs that could spell trouble for tourism in Boone and surrounding mountain towns.

Kurt Kaunath, 60, rode out the storm with his wife in their camper overlooking Watauga Lake in Tennessee. They had no cell service, and at one point, he said he was worried the winds would topple the camper into the lake — but the couple made it out safely.

When they returned to his home in the outskirts of Blowing Rock — about 8 miles (13 kilometers) south of Boone — on Sunday, there was still no power. His job as a part-time paramedic in downtown Boone has become a refuge — giving him access to running water and air conditioning.

But Kaunath said there's been “cancellation after cancellation” for an Airbnb he owns in the area. It was almost fully booked for October before the storm hit, he said.

“That's when all these businesses make their money, and that's when all the people are here supporting the hotels and all the infrastructure that's here," he said. “And that's not going to happen.”

October is the busiest time of year for Lililu on King, a clothing boutique in downtown Boone that was undamaged, manager Kim Greene said. The store didn't have internet access to run their cash register on Monday, so Greene spent her time packing up sale items to donate to storm victims with employee Sarah Jackson.

But there's still a lot of uncertainty about when they can reopen — and if they'll have enough employees to run the shop.

‘I don’t know where we go from here'

Some shops like Lililu on King mainly employ students from Appalachian State University, which canceled classes until at least Friday. With students heading home, store owners will have to manage without them for now.

“It's down to the two of us," Greene said, mustering a smile before adding, "if we do open back up, and we can do that when we're able."

The university, which has more than 20,000 students, seemed largely empty Monday. The university's arena, Holmes Convocation Center, has been converted into a Red Cross emergency shelter with donations piling up outside the entrance. Some students who lived in off-campus apartments don't have housing after flooding.

Aidan Mullane, a 19-year-old ASU sophomore, is doubtful classes will resume at all this semester. He received an email Monday from a professor who said their house experienced “significant damage” and would limit their ability to respond to students. Mullane said his professor is one of many facing the same problem.

“I don't know where we go from here,” Mullane said. “If professors can't live here, what do you do?”