When Helene hit in late September, rising waters from a nearby stream flooded inside the trailer home of Zenaida Hernandez in Boone, forcing a Red Cross rescue.

Since then, Hernandez, landed a temporary room with family members and has to her trailer only a few times, overwhelmed by the damage.

“Everything is upside down,” the 46-year-old said in Spanish, describing soaked beds and a ruined kitchen.

Helene’s destruction has exposed deep inequalities in Western North Carolina, where many Latino families live in trailers they own that were flooded or destroyed, said Margarita Ramirez, director of Centro Unido Latino Americano.

“That’s all many of these people have in their names,” said Ramirez, whose organization is based in McDowell County and also serves surrounding areas.

North Carolina’s Latino population is the fastest-growing in the state, increasing by 45% from 2010 to 2022. And while nearly 70% of Hispanic or Latino people living here are citizens, some have unique needs after a natural disaster.

Many in counties hit hardest by Helene can face language barriers and some fear interacting with federal agencies due to their immigration status. These obstacles prevent some with serious needs from seeking aid, even when they qualify, Ramirez said.

She has seen families return to badly damaged trailers due to fear of losing their homes or because they can’t afford to relocate. Others, she said, have been living in tents by their damaged residences on rented land, she said.

Community organizations are helping people like Hernandez cope with unique challenges and access needed help, The News & Observer found. But the groups cannot meet the level of need in the Latino community, Ramirez said.

“It’s going to take all the leaders in the community, in the city, in the state working collectively to help our community,” she stressed.

Filling in the gaps

Hernandez, who holds a visa that gives her legal residency in North Carolina, faces much uncertainty after Helene.

She can stay where she is living for three more months but doubts her trailer, which she owns, will be repaired in time.

She expects she’ll need to resume paying rent — along with back rent— for the lot it occupies, which like many trailer residents she does not own.

Her restaurant job as a dishwasher provides some income, but reduced hours have cut into her earnings.

She applied for FEMA aid with her 16-year-old daughter, a U.S. citizen who lives with her. But she’s not sure when she will receive it.

She learned that she could apply to FEMA for help through Yolanda Adams, co-founder of Q’Pasa Appalachia, which connects Latinos with support and services.

Hernandez has known Adams for 10 years, having first met her at her daughter’s school, where Adams helped with forms in English. After Helene, Adams continued to assist Hernandez with applications, food, clothing, and providing money to her to pay for her temporary housing.

This funding was possible after Helene because Adams worked with another organization, the Immigrant Connection of the High Country to raise about $91,000 for essential needs like supplies and housing deposits, especially for undocumented families who often “fall through the cracks” as they don’t qualify for most federal, state, or local aid, Adams said.

Apart from Adams’ help, Hernandez has received no other assistance, she said. She is not the only member of her family to suffer losses.

Her 28-year-old daughter’s trailer—owned by her but also standing on a rented lot—was damaged by Helene, which flooded everything inside, including a bed her daughter had just purchased for her baby. “She had to throw everything away,” Hernandez said.

Barriers to aid

A common misconception is that North Carolina’s growing Hispanic population primarily consists of recent immigrants.

In fact, only 38% are foreign-born, while most are descendants of immigrants or were born here, according to a state analysis. About 360,000 unauthorized immigrants — roughly 3.27% of North Carolina’s total population of 11 million — lived in the state as of 2022, according to U.S. Office of Homeland Security Statistics estimates.

This often results in mixed-status families, which can create fear and barriers when seeking assistance. “But the people who apply and come from mixed-status families have usually received a positive response from FEMA,” said Ramirez, who, through CULA, helps Latino residents complete applications.

FEMA usually requires citizenship or legal residency, though some non-citizens still qualify. While responses are generally positive — with most applications approved — delays remain significant, as FEMA inspectors often take weeks to assess damaged properties, she said.

As of Dec. 1, about 270,000 registrations were filed in North Carolina under FEMA’s Individuals and Households Program for Hurricane Helene. This program offers financial aid and direct services to individuals and families impacted by disasters, including temporary housing assistance and home repair funding.

Of those, around 3.7% identified as Hispanic or Latino, said Luz Sanabria-Reyes, disaster services manager for the state’s Commission on Volunteerism & Community Service.

The need for aid is clear to anyone reaching out to Latino residents in Western North Carolina whose lives were disrupted by Helene, community group members say. “These are low-income families living paycheck to paycheck, and they’ve not been able to get relief as fast as maybe some other communities,” Ramirez said.

Ricardo Bello Ballfounded of Unidxs Western North Carolina, which runs a donation center in Jackson County that stocks staples like jalapeños, tortillas, and other favored foods in the Latino community. Some immigrants living in Western North Carolina have never had contact with any helping organization due to transportation issues and demanding work schedules, he said.

Fear of seeking help has grown with the implementation of House Bill 10, which took effect on Dec. 1, Ramirez said. This law requires sheriffs to honor immigration detainers, holding detainees an additional 48 hours for immigration agents to take custody.

State law already required sheriffs to check the legal status of anyone arrested and to check with immigration officials if uncertain. However, some sheriffs in left-leaning counties like Wake and Mecklenburg often declined to cooperate with immigration detainers

With its passage coinciding with incoming President Donald Trump pledging to “carry out the largest deportation operation in history,” people can be fearful.

Many people are hesitant to approach federal agencies due to concerns about eligibility, Adams said. “But because they trust Appalachia, they know the information we provide is a safe place for them to go, apply, and make an appointment,” she said.

Misunderstandings don’t help

Another barrier Latinos face in accessing aid is a lack of understanding about their community, Bello Ball said.

“There’s the misconception that our community is a bad community that only comes to live off of federal resources. That’s a lie,” he said in Spanish. “The vast majority are people who go out every day to work. It’s people who are looking for a better life for their kids” and are willing to take any job opportunity available, regardless of the hours or difficulty, he said.

Latinos make up 11.3% of this state’s labor force, according to the U.S. Bureau of Labor Statistics, increasing 59% from 2010 to 2020, according to a 2021 analysis by the state’s Department of Commerce.

Spruce Pine resident Sylvia Salazar, 27, who works at Baxter International’s manufacturing plant, moved to Western North Carolina from Texas to build a better life.

She arrived in Mitchell County five years ago with “barely any money, one luggage, just two pairs of shoes.” Her grandmother gave her and her husband a small twin bed, and they worked hard to build a self-sustaining life together.

Then tragedy struck. On Sept. 18, she had a miscarriage, followed by two surgeries, one during Helene. While she was in surgery, a tree crashed into her rented trailer, destroying it along with her and her brother’s cars.

“To see what I’ve finally accomplished, gone in one second — it’s a very horrible feeling,” said Ramirez, who has received help, but only from CULA.

After the storm, CULA launched a ”Jireh” project, named after the Hebrew word for “provider,” raising $500,000 for Latino families, Ramirez said. The organization focused on trailer parks in McDowell County and nearby areas, where many Latinos, especially those without U.S. citizens, cannot access federal aid.

CULA provided $3,000 to Salazar for food and car bills and arranged a free therapy session. Salazar applied for FEMA aid in late October and is now staying with her mother while searching for a new home.

To address fears of visiting federal aid centers with U.S. Department of Homeland Security personnel sometimes present,CULA also set up its own distribution center.

North Carolina’s GOP-led legislature has committed approximately $1.1 billion for Helene recovery efforts across three bills, though not all funds have been allocated.

The bills allocate about $50 million for business loans but not grants and no housing aid, such as rental assistance. They do not appear to provide aid specifically targeting the Latino or other immigrant communities.

CULA members have met with members of the governor’s staff who have mainly provided advisory support while learning about the Latino community’s needs, Ramirez said. They helped coordinate events organized by Latino organizations to have FEMA present, for one.

Sanabria-Reyes, disaster services manager for the state’s volunteerism commission, said existing relationships with community organizations helped when Helene hit.

When disaster strikes, “the state and the federal government will not be the first ones coming into the communities to help.” she said. Instead, it’ll be “community helping community.”

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