FEMA assistance climbs to $8.9 million
FEMA has now approved $8,931,727 in Individual Assistance for a six county region, which includes Mercer, McDowell and Wyoming counties, according to Nate Custer, a media relations specialist with FEMA. That amount includes $5,560,002 for Housing Assistance and $3,371,725 for Other Needs Assistance.
The federal funds are in response to the Feb. 15 flood, which caused widespread damage across the region.
This FEMA aid included 2,735 valid registrations. Broken down by county, McDowell County had the most registrations with 1,168 followed by Mingo County with 615. Mercer County had 410 registrations followed by 394 in Wyoming County, 85 in Wayne County and 80 in Logan County.
Mitigation and Disaster Survivor Assistance staff in McDowell County are at Jimmy's Hardware and Supply in Roderfield to help residents with their Individual Assistance applications, provide information about rebuilding their homes and share resources on safe clean-up procedures, agency officials said.
Flood victims needing help with food now have another route to aid which started Monday.
The West Virginia Department of Human Services announced that West Virginia residents who lived or worked in Mercer, McDowell, Mingo and Wyoming counties and were impacted by the Feb. 15 flood may be eligible for USDA's Disaster Supplement Nutrition Assistance, D-SNAP, benefits beginning Monday through March 21.
FEMA Disaster Recovery Centers are open in Mercer, McDowell and Wyoming counties.
• The Mercer County Disaster Recovery Center is located at the Lifeline Princeton Church of God on 250 Oakvale Road in Princeton. Mercer County's center is open Monday through Friday from 9 a.m. to 5 p.m. and Saturday from 10 a.m. to 2 p.m. It is closed Sunday. This center will be closed March 22 and April 19 for the church's previously scheduled events.
• The McDowell County Disaster Recovery Center is located at Bradshaw Town Hall, 10002 Marshall Highway in Bradshaw. It is open Monday through Saturday from 8 a.m. to 6 p.m. and closed Sunday.
• The Wyoming County Disaster Recovery Center is located at the Wyoming County Courthouse on 24 Main Avenue in Pineville. It is open Monday through Friday from 8 a.m. to 6 p.m.; Saturdays from 9 a.m. to 3 p.m.; and closed Sundays.
Contact Greg Jordan at
gjordan@bdtonline.com
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Vox
2 days ago
- Vox
The government stepped in to clean up a disaster in North Carolina. Then they created another one.
is an environmental correspondent at Vox, covering biodiversity loss and climate change. Before joining Vox, he was a senior energy reporter at Business Insider. Benji previously worked as a wildlife researcher. POLK COUNTY, North Carolina — The small section of forest before me looked as though it was clear-cut. The ground was flat and treeless, covered in a thin layer of jumbled sticks and leaves. This region, a wetland formed by beavers near the South Carolina border, was flooded last September by Hurricane Helene. But it wasn't the storm that razed the forest. It was the machines that came after. They were part of a hurricane cleanup effort, bankrolled by the federal government, that many environmental experts believe went very, very wrong. Helene hit North Carolina in late September last year, dumping historic amounts of rain that damaged thousands of homes, killed more than 100 people, and littered rivers with debris including fallen trees, building fragments, and cars. In the months since, the Federal Emergency Management Agency (FEMA) has sponsored an enormous cleanup effort in western North Carolina. It focused, among other things, on clearing debris from waterways for public safety. Storm debris left in rivers and streams can create jams that make them more likely to flood in the future. A contractor hauls away woody debris from a river in western North Carolina. Benji Jones/Vox In some parts of the state, however, cleanup crews contracted by the federal government removed much more than just dangerous debris. According to several state biologists, environmental experts, and my own observations from a recent trip to the area, contractors in some regions cleared live trees still rooted in the ground, logs that were in place well before the storm, and other natural features of the habitat that may not have posed a risk to public safety. These experts also told me that the Army Corps of Engineers — a government agency tasked by FEMA to oversee debris removal in several counties — failed to coordinate with the state wildlife agency to minimize harm to species that are in danger of extinction. Those include federally endangered freshwater mussels, which are essential for their role in keeping rivers clean, and hellbenders, iconic giant salamanders that the federal government says are imperiled. In some stretches of rivers and streams, the contractors ultimately did more harm to the environment than the storm itself, the experts said. The many scientists and environmental experts I spoke to say the main problem is the compensation system for companies involved in disaster recovery: Contractors are typically paid by the volume of debris they remove from streams, creating an incentive for them to take more debris than is necessary. 'They just removed everything.' — Hans Lohmeyer, stewardship coordinator at Conserving Carolina That's what happened in this partially destroyed beaver wetland, according to Hans Lohmeyer, the stewardship coordinator with an environmental group called Conserving Carolina, who took me to the wetland in June. 'They just removed everything,' Lohmeyer told me, pointing at the bald patch of forest where he said live trees that had survived Helene once stood. 'It's more advantageous for them to remove it all because they're getting paid for it.' The damage from Helene was relatively minor here, Lohmeyer said. And he claims that debris churned up by the storm didn't pose a serious flood risk. The wetland is a large natural area with few homes or buildings and plenty of room for floodwaters, he said. Yet contractors still leveled parts of the forest with excavators, clearing important wildlife habitat. Hans Lohmeyer stands next to a patch of forest that was cleared by debris removal contractors. Benji Jones/Vox 'We've just seen tons of excessive debris removal,' said Jon Stamper, river cleanup coordinator with MountainTrue, a nonprofit that's being funded by the state to clean up debris in smaller waterways. 'I couldn't even begin to tell you how many reports and phone calls and public outcries we've had about this.' Plenty of contractors have done a good job, he said, but many seem to be 'simply grabbing anything they can to make more money.' Cleanup contractors have faced scrutiny before. In the months after deadly floods swept through southeastern Kentucky in 2022, a report by the Kentucky Center for Investigative Reporting claimed that debris-removal contractors — including AshBritt and its subcontractors, one of the firms contracted by the Army Corps in North Carolina — took trees they shouldn't have and ignored complaints from residents, prompting lawsuits. (At least some of the claims against the company have since been dismissed, court records show.) Then there's the risk of climate change: Rising global temperatures are only likely to increase the need for debris removal, by making natural disasters like floods more frequent and severe in some areas. That will come at a steep cost to public safety and to the economy — Helene's costs have so far amounted to nearly $80 billion. And without better cleanup systems in place, it will be especially devastating for the wild animals that need intact ecosystems to survive. Scientists say government contractors were careless and likely killed scores of endangered species I initially traveled to North Carolina for a story about how damage from Hurricane Helene is pushing some already rare animals closer to extinction. For endangered salamanders like the Hickory Nut Gorge green — a striking amphibian with black skin and splotches of green — forest loss caused by Helene's floodwaters is a new and urgent threat. But as I spoke with experts for the story, they told me that a bigger problem for animals in some rivers and streams has actually been the cleanup after the storm. To clean up debris from Helene, counties in western North Carolina either enlisted help from the Army Corps of Engineers — which then hired contractors — or contracted debris removal companies themselves. In both cases, FEMA provided financial support. According to three state biologists and several other experts familiar with North Carolina's stream ecology, it was debris removal contractors working under the Army Corps that created the worst environmental problems. AshBritt, one of the Corps' big contractors, managed debris removal in Polk County, where I saw the partially deforested beaver wetland. I also visited a stream west of Hendersonville called Little River that was cleaned up by a different Army Corps contractor. Share a tip Do you have information about disaster cleanup in North Carolina? Reach out to or benjijones@ (encrypted). Find me on Signal at benji.90. In Little River, cleanup contractors severely damaged the stream ecosystem, which is home to the world's highest density of the endangered Appalachian elktoe mussel, said Luke Etchison, a biologist at the North Carolina Wildlife Resources Commission (NCWRC), the state wildlife agency. Giant excavators drove over the riverbed, almost certainly crushing elktoes and burying rocks used by hellbenders, the largest salamanders in North America, he said. The contractors also left parts of the bank bare and almost certainly removed natural habitat features that were not a flood hazard, according to Etchison. On a warm and sunny morning in June, Etchison and his colleague Michael Perkins, another state biologist, visited Little River for an informal survey. I tagged along. The river was shallow and calm with a rocky bottom and flanked by shrubs and trees. It looked like a pretty typical river — and it was beautiful. We threw on wetsuits, goggles, and snorkels and waded into the cold water. It was only when we swam around with our heads tilted to the riverbed that I started to see some of the impacts Etchison was describing: crushed elktoe shells, broken rocks, and hardly any of the debris that crayfish and hellbenders use, such as old logs and large, flat boulders. Perhaps most telling was that we saw fewer than two dozen elktoe mussels that day. Past surveys at this exact site turned up several hundred of them, Etchison said. Etchison holds up one of the many broken shells we collected while snorkeling in Little River. Benji Jones/Vox Perkins said that people often have the perception that debris removal is 'charitable work,' but it's not. 'This was a taxpayer-funded endeavor,' he said, and some contractors 'are making millions by removing not just woody debris but also thousands of live, healthy or otherwise undamaged trees and vegetation that pose no risk to life or infrastructure.' In another river, known as the West Fork French Broad, a technician working with NCWRC told me that he saw similar signs of damage. Rocks that hellbenders live under were fractured, covered in sediment, or pushed into the riverbed, he said. From his experience walking the stream before and after debris removal, he also claims that contractors removed habitat features that were not a flood risk — either because they were here before the storm or not obstructing the channel. 'I don't know what's a more telling sign that something is not a threat to a future flood than something that was in the river before this flood and in the exact same place after,' the technician told me. 'They were operating in these rivers, treating them like highways, driving up and down, crushing everything.' — Lori Williams, state wildlife biologist Etchison and two other state biologists allege that the Army Corps made little effort to coordinate with NCWRC to avoid harming threatened and endangered species. Once they learned that debris removal was underway, NCWRC sent Army Corps and other disaster recovery officials a one-page document with guidance on how to minimize harm to the ecosystems, such as by leaving stumps in place and, when possible, driving machines on the bank and not in the riverbed. The agency also produced detailed maps that marked areas with rare species, including the section of Little River that I visited. In those areas, the maps say, contractors should avoid running heavy machinery in the stream bed. NCWRC biologists asked the Corps to coordinate with them if they're clearing debris from rivers in those areas. A hellbender we caught in Mills River. Benji Jones/Vox 'We gave them [the Army Corps] all of this information and they ignored it,' Lori Williams, a conservation biologist and hellbender expert at NCWRC, told me. 'They were operating in these rivers, treating them like highways, driving up and down, crushing everything.' Early one morning I talked to a couple workers who were clearing debris from a stream north of Asheville. They were both from out of state and hadn't heard any complaints about their work. Locals were happy they were cleaning up, they told me. But I also heard another story. A man named Nathan Turpin, who briefly worked for a subcontractor of AshBritt doing debris removal, told me that he left the job, in part, because of the focus on 'production.' Related These photos are literally saving jaguars 'I ended up walking off the job just for the fact that we were pressured to produce a lot of yardage of debris every day to make a profit,' Turpin, who said he drove a dump truck, told me. 'There were a lot of plants and trees I saw that were being destroyed for no reason.' Who deserves blame — and are they accepting it? No single company or organization is at fault for the mismanaged debris removal, experts told me. Cleaning up involves a messy constellation of state and federal government agencies, private contractors and subcontractors, and independent monitors that audit the work. There are so many people involved that it's difficult to figure out who does what — and who's paying for it. And when you start asking questions, everyone involved tends to just point at each other. Key takeaways Scientists claim that cleanup from Hurricane Helene in western North Carolina was careless and damaged the environment and wildlife in some areas. They claim that contractors hired by the Army Corps of Engineers, a federal agency, cleared far more debris from rivers than was necessary for public safety, removing habitat features there before Helene hit. They claim that those contractors were motivated by a perverse incentive common in the debris removal industry: companies are paid by volume, so the more debris they remove, the more money they stand to make. The Army Corps told Vox that its contractors follow strict environmental guidelines to avoid undue ecological harm and it does not tolerate over-clearing of debris. The Corps provided detailed comments that experts Vox spoke to generally disagree with. Debris removal is nearly finished, but environmental experts say there's a big opportunity to make future cleanup efforts less destructive — largely, by changing the incentives for contractors. FEMA declined an interview request. In a written statement, FEMA told Vox that North Carolina coordinated with federal and state agencies to provide guidance for debris removal to counties and the Army Corps including measures to minimize environmental impacts. Those measures include using high-profile machines in riverbeds, so they don't bottom out, and filling heavy machinery with biodegradable hydraulic fluid, FEMA said in the statement. The details of that guidance are not clear. FEMA directed my follow-up questions to the Army Corps, which declined to share the environmental guidance that contractors were given. The Army Corps similarly declined an interview request, though it shared detailed comments in response to our reporting. The Army Corps told Vox that its contractors and subcontractors are required to follow strict environmental rules to minimize environmental harm — though again, it's not clear what those rules are. The agency also said that it does not tolerate over-clearing of debris. 'Contractors that exceed limits receive warnings or are removed from the job,' according to the statement. Dave Connolly, chief of public affairs for the Corp's Wilmington District, said the agency has not issued warnings or removed contractors. The agency also said it 'constantly' has quality assurance specialists on site to verify that contractors are removing only what they're tasked to remove. Some environmental experts I spoke to said the Army Corps didn't have sufficient oversight over their contractors or subcontractors to know whether or not they were over-extracting debris. The Army Corps also told me that 'wildlife biologists and environmental experts have been involved throughout the operation, particularly in areas where endangered species are known to exist.' That ensures cleanup has a minimal impact on wildlife and their habitats, the statement said. The state biologists I spoke to said that at least some of the wildlife biologists hired by debris removal contractors have little knowledge of the local endangered and threatened species. The Army Corps noted that they shared 'mapping data' with the state wildlife agency that's meant to indicate where contractors would be working. According to the Corps, that gave NCWRC the opportunity to advise workers when debris removal is happening in ecologically sensitive areas. The agency said it would 'attempt to adjust the debris removal plan in that area, and/or allow wildlife specialists the opportunity to temporarily relocate any discovered wildlife until debris removal in that specific location is complete.' The state biologists I spoke to said Army Corps contractors showed little indication that they would adjust a debris removal plan to spare rare animals. And often, the state agency wasn't aware of where the cleanup was happening because the mapping data was so hard to parse. 'We were not given the chance to locate and move animals out of harm's way,' Williams said. Although AshBritt declined to comment on the record, the Army Corps defended its work with the company: 'USACE's decision to contract with AshBritt was made after a thorough evaluation of their capabilities, experience, and past performance in emergency response operations,' the Corps said in its statement. 'There is no evidence to suggest AshBritt is unable to successfully fulfill its contracts.' (See here for a more detailed response from the Army Corps to our reporting.) Most of the damage from cleanup is already done. Scientists are looking to the next natural disaster. Killing federally threatened and endangered species, like elktoes and another mussel variety known as longsolids, is typically a crime — because they're protected by the Endangered Species Act (ESA). And that's why some environmental advocates have suggested to me that debris removal in certain regions, such as Little River, may have been illegal. I raised this with the US Fish and Wildlife Service, which oversees the ESA. Gary Peeples, the acting supervisor for the Asheville Field Office, told me that, at least so far, debris removal is not violating the act, even if it's killing endangered species. This is a bit wonky, but: Typically, the USFWS consults with federal agencies — in this case, FEMA, because it's financing the Corps's work — before taking actions that harm endangered species. Those agencies then receive what's called an incidental take statement, which creates an exception and essentially legalizes harm to federally protected species (assuming their actions don't jeopardize the entire existence of the species). In an emergency, however, consultation happens while the action is already underway, Peeples said. That's what happened here. In the coming weeks, he said, FEMA is supposed to report on how they've impacted endangered species, at which point the service will issue the agency a take statement. FEMA and the Army Corps have been 'diligently monitoring and documenting' the potential impacts of debris removal on threatened and endangered species, the Army Corps told me in its statement. A pile of woody debris on the banks of a stream north of Asheville. Benji Jones/Vox 'From the legal standpoint, we must remember that the Endangered Species Act does allow for harmful impacts to species,' said Peeples. Still, he added, the impact of debris removal 'pains' him. 'Not only am I a biologist who works here, but I'm a resident who lives here and recreates in these areas,' he said. 'It is grossly unfortunate how things have played out.' Beyond raising alarm among local environmental experts, the cleanup has also prompted significant public outcry. And those complaints haven't gone unnoticed. In May, a number of state residents, including environmental advocates, met with Rep. Chuck Edwards — a Republican who represents western North Carolina — to express their concerns. Afterward, Edwards announced a new agreement with FEMA and the Army Corps 'to improve accountability and transparency' in the cleanup process. Under that agreement, landowners can mark important trees and other landscape features with flags. 'These flagged areas will not be disturbed until the property owner, the county, and USACE [US Army Corps of Engineers] engage in a consultation,' according to the announcement. Edwards also uploaded maps of where the Army Corps is working to his website. Tread marks from heavy machinery that was used to clear debris from a stream in western North Carolina. Benji Jones/Vox It's not clear whether this flagging approach has worked, or whether it was simply too little, too late. Edwards's office declined an interview request and, along with FEMA and the Army Corps, did not respond to a request to see the agreement. The opportunity now, experts told me, is to make future debris removal better — to learn from what environmental advocates call egregious mistakes. There are really only two things that those advocates want. The first is to change the incentive structure in the disaster recovery industry. Paying contractors by volume is 'the biggest problem,' Williams, the state biologist, told me. 'It puts a dollar sign on literally every leaf, stick, twig, [and] blade of grass out there. That's how these people are making money.' Instead, Williams, Lohmeyer, and other experts recommended paying contractors by linear foot — meaning the more distance they cover, the more money they make — or by job. A job might be, say, clearing debris from a particular creek or property. The other key ask is that the Army Corps and disaster recovery companies coordinate with regional environmental experts — the people, like Williams and Etchison, who typically know the ecology of the rivers far better than contractors. State biologists are not asking to stop or even slow debris removal. Just to take more care in regions known to contain incredibly rare creatures. Where cleanup has gone right(ish), hellbenders still lurk In some regions of North Carolina river, cleanup left a much smaller scar. According to Etchison and some of his colleagues, waterways in counties that opted to work with a contractor called Southern Disaster Recovery (SDR) instead of Army Corps contractors were generally left in better shape. SDR tended to listen to state biologists, he told me. 'They've done a pretty good job coordinating with us,' Etchison said. For example, when Etchison asked an SDR subcontractor to avoid removing specific bits of habitat, such as a log home to freshwater mussels, the contractor listened, Etchison said. That may be because SDR and their subcontractors are paid by linear foot to remove debris (though they're paid by volume to haul it away). As a result, Etchison said, there's still lots of large woody debris and big rocks for hellbenders to hide and nest under. After the survey in Little River, I drove with Etchison and Perkins to the banks of Mills River, which was cleaned up by SDR. This river, Etchison told me, was a good place to find hellbenders — in part, he said, because cleanup didn't wreck the waterway. There are still plenty of logs and bramble on the bank and big rocks for hellbenders to hide and nest under. 'If you have to do it, it was done the right way,' Etchison said of debris removal here. We slid down the bank and stepped into the cold water, which was waist deep and moving quickly. The water was murky, so we couldn't see the bottom, making walking tough and finding a hellbender tougher. Etchison and Perkins used their hands and feet to feel around for the kinds of rocks that these Hulkish salamanders love — large and flat, with a gap underneath that they can squeeze into. When they found such a rock, Perkins would position a seine in front of it and Etchison would lift the rock up. Then we'd check the net to see if a salamander had entered. We did this for more than an hour, catching mostly leaves and mud and a few crayfish and small fish. But eventually, somehow, this approach worked. Etchison lifted up a small slab of concrete on the riverbed and when Perkins lifted up the net, there was a squirming hellbender. These animals are famously ugly-cute: slimy brown with wrinkly skin, tiny eyes, and pudgy little hands. They look like something out of a Miyazaki film. The hellbender we caught. Benji Jones/Vox Perhaps worrying about the future of unconventionally attractive animals like this is not a priority for everyone in the wake of disaster. Biologists have a hard time rallying the public around salamanders, especially compared to animals of the large and fluffy variety. Yet it's the hellbenders and the mussels and the crayfish and the fish that make these ecosystems so unique and healthy enough to support our own needs. Mussels clean the water. Crayfish break down debris. Hellbenders tell us when rivers may be polluted. While traveling in North Carolina I was constantly reminded that natural disasters are disasters for these animals, too. And that's troubling for North Carolina's utterly epic array of creatures because many regions — including the American Southeast — will likely face more flooding in the decades to come as the planet warms. The least we can do is be smart about how we react to it.
Fox News
3 days ago
- Fox News
Texas flood recovery volunteers find dignity in helping victims
Janice Riley took off her shoe, thinking a rock had gotten stuck inside while she was volunteering in flood-devastated Kerrville, Texas, but was surprised to find a bent nail lodged in the sole, just centimeters from her foot. "It reminds me of the verse that says, 'How beautiful are the feet that bring good news', she said while laughing." Riley was working along the Guadalupe River, but that nail didn't stop her from cleaning up mud-soaked houses and attempting to piece together devastated lives. As she walked into each house, she saw the aftermath of the flood marked by water stains several feet high on the wall. TEXAS FLOOD SURVIVORS LOOK FOR GOD IN THE FACE OF TRAGEDY While removing gunk, sweeping and prepping homes for installation, Riley ran into a homeowner in search of meaningful family heirlooms in a sea of debris and filth. Amid the rubble, Riley stumbled upon a wooden box already beginning to mold, filled with gold and silver. As she and the homeowner opened it, a sigh of relief overcame them, since the survivor had prayed she would find it. "You couldn't help but cry at her excitement of finding those treasures," said Riley. "It wouldn't mean anything to us, but it meant something to her." To Riley, that's what matters, and she will remember that as the highlight of volunteering. But then she paused. The moment she reconciled the gravity of her community's situation, she began to cry. "It's not going to be back to normal anytime soon," she said. "There's still water over the low water crossing, and just how much of the river is destroyed, and the area." The tears started to flow. The once beautiful cypress trees, decades old, that stood beautifully, are now gone. She said she feels nothing's going to be the same. "It just kind of sinks in, it's not like a week and a month will pass this, and we'll be back to normal," she said. That new reality survivors face is something Michelle Annette saw as a volunteer for the Salvation Army, where flood victims are surviving out of warehouses and donation bins. As she arrived, on her first day, she was assigned to organize clothing donations for victims. Sounds easy enough. Until Annette was given a direction that didn't sit right with her. "If you come across any clothing items that you think could potentially be used for funerals for the victims, put 'em in bins over here," Michelle was told. "We're going to set those aside." That's when it hit her. "If I pull out a nice dress or something that was donated, I have to think, would this be something I would want my sister buried in, or my aunt buried in or something?" she pondered. 'RIVER OF ANGELS' MEMORIAL RISES IN KERRVILLE AS FLOOD VICTIMS REMEMBERED To her, it's more than just a bin. It represents humanity. How can an outfit she picks begin to encapsulate the body of a stranger, once full of life? Not too far away, Lisa Aguillen, a San Antonio resident, also had a moment with death she couldn't shake. As she drove down to Kerrville with friends in their ministry's van, they came upon what seemed to be a horrific movie scene. Men clouded by smoke as they used chainsaws to cut through huge mounds of trees. The rhythmic whooping grew louder in the air as search helicopters made their way for the missing. Then came the moment that changed her. "I saw a body lifted out of a river in a bag," she said. "I was very angry with God on that drive home. Why, God, did you allow those children to pass in such a horrific manner?" she asked. As she contemplated that question, Annette remained at the Salvation Army, trying to stay present and focusing on the survivors piling into the warehouse. The more that flowed in, the more heartbreaking stories she would overhear. One man whose house was washed away stood out. "He had nothing but the clothes on his back and the shoes on his feet. He didn't have his ID, and he didn't have a car," said Annette. She handed him underwear, a razor and a shirt. At that moment, Annette realized he would have to rebuild his life with those items. FAITH BRINGS LIGHT TO DEVASTATED TEXAS TOWN AFTER DEADLY FLOODING DISASTER Seeing the wreckage in Kerrville, Aguillen understood that even with donations, survivors had little. As she reflected, she was more motivated to make a difference. Aguillen knew she could rely on contacts from her insurance company, Texas United Insurance Services, LLC, for donations for a cause bigger than herself. "I came to the office this week and started calling every business owner in my book," she said. So far, she has raised $5,000 and plans to drive back down to Kerrville and hand it out to people in need. Although she feels it may not be a lot of money, she says every bit counts. "I want to see these people go to the bank and cash and have cash in hand," she said. "I can bless several, several families with $500 a piece, and that's what I intend on doing." Although the volunteers, Riley, Annette and Aguillen faced hardship while spending hours putting themselves through hard work, they realized their service had in their community and brought power to the lives of those they were serving. Annette summed it up in one word. "Time," she said. "It is our most valuable commodity, and what makes it so valuable is that we can't make more of it. So how we decide to spend it speaks so much more than just donating."
Yahoo
4 days ago
- Yahoo
D-Day veteran and TikTok star ‘Papa Jake' Larson dies at 102
PARIS — D-Day veteran 'Papa Jake' Larson, who survived German gunfire on Normandy's bluffs in 1944 and then garnered 1.2 million followers on TikTok late in life by sharing stories to commemorate World War II and his fallen comrades, has died at 102. An animated speaker who charmed strangers young and old with his quick smile and generous hugs, the self-described country boy from Minnesota was 'cracking jokes til the end,' his granddaughter wrote in announcing his death. Tributes to him quickly filled his 'Story Time with Papa Jake' TikTok account from across the United States, where he had been living in Lafayette, California. Towns around Normandy, still grateful to Allied forces who helped defeat the occupying Nazis in World War II, paid him homage too. 'Our beloved Papa Jake has passed away on July 17th at 102 years young,' granddaughter McKaela Larson posted on his social media accounts. 'He went peacefully.' 'As Papa would say, love you all the mostest,' she wrote. Born Dec. 20, 1922, in Owatonna, Minnesota, Larson enlisted in the National Guard in 1938, lying about his age since he was only 15 at the time. In 1942, he was sent overseas and was stationed in Northern Ireland. He became an operations sergeant and assembled the planning books for the invasion of Normandy. He was among the nearly 160,000 Allied troops who stormed the Normandy shore on D-Day, June 6, 1944, surviving machine-gun fire when he landed on Omaha Beach. He made it unhurt to the bluffs that overlook the beach, then studded with German gun emplacements that mowed down American soldiers. 'We are the lucky ones,' Larson told The Associated Press at the 81st anniversary of D-Day in June, speaking amid the immaculate rows of graves at the American cemetery overlooking Omaha Beach. 'We are their family. We have the responsibility to honor these guys who gave us a chance to be alive.' He went on to fight through the Battle of the Bulge, a grueling month-long fight in Belgium and Luxembourg that was one of the defining moments of the war and of Hitler's defeat. His service earned him a Bronze Star and a French Legion of Honor award. In recent years, Larson made repeated trips to Normandy for D-Day commemorations — and at every stop, 'Papa Jake' was greeted by people asking for a selfie. In return, he offered up a big hug, to their greatest joy. One memorable encounter came in 2023, when he came across Bill Gladden, a then-99-year-old British veteran who survived a glider landing on D-Day and a bullet that tore through his ankle. 'I want to give you a hug, thank you. I got tears in my eyes. We were meant to meet,' Larson told Gladden, as their hands, lined and spotted with age, clasped tightly. Gladden died the following year. In his TikTok posts and interviews, Larson combined humorous anecdotes with somber reminders about the horrors of war. Reflecting to AP on the three years he was in Europe, Larson said he is 'no hero.' Speaking in 2024, he also had a message to world leaders: 'Make peace not war.' He often called himself 'the luckiest man in the world,' and expressed awe at all the attention he was getting. 'I'm just a country boy. Now I'm a star on TikTok,' he told AP in 2023. 'I'm a legend! I didn't plan this, it came about.' Small-town museums and groups around Normandy that work to honor D-Day's heroes and fallen shared tributes online to Larson, one of their most loyal visitors. 'He was an exceptional witness and bearer of memory,' the Overlord Museum posted on Facebook. 'He came every year to the museum, with his smile, his humility and his tales that touched all generations. His stories will continue to live. Rest in peace Papa Jake,' it read. 'Thanks for everything.' Solve the daily Crossword
