Steeple without a church becomes a symbol of hope for NC valley gutted by Helene
A weathered church steeple and bell that rang for more than a century in North Carolina’s Swannanoa Valley has become a peculiar symbol of hope in the aftermath of Hurricane Helene.
Bee Tree Christian Church was deemed “not salvageable” and torn down in the past two weeks, but not before crews lifted off the steeple and placed it safely on the ground.
It now stands at eye-level, humbled like the rest of the close-knit mountain community.
The tiny congregation isn’t sure when, or even if, a new church will be built, but an unconventional plan is afoot to raise the bell tower again, this time as a beacon for the valley.
“Bee Tree Church has been a staple in this community since it was established in 1872. It was a prime example of the little white church, tucked away in the Appalachian mountains,” according to Jason Ward of Valley Strong Disaster Relief, a nonprofit that worked with Valley Hope Foundation to remove the steeple.
“It kind of became a viral symbol of the aftermath of Hurricane Helene. Pictures and video circulated online of the devastation, but for the locals, (the church) stood for a symbol of hope and resilience. Bee Tree Church sits right below the reservoir and (the overflow) took about everything in its path. But even though the structure of the church was not salvageable, the church and the steeple were still standing.”
A homeless church
The bell was rung one final time before the steeple was removed on Dec. 29.
It took just two hours for heavy equipment to bring down the 60-foot-tall building, and church elder Bill Hillerman stood watching, trying his best not to cry in front of strangers. He has been a member of Bee Tree Christian Church more than 50 years.
Such was the church’s impact that others came to watch, too, and began taking pieces of wood from the debris pile as keepsakes.
“Watching the church be torn down was gut-wrenching. Some of our people have been going there as long as 70 years,” Hillerman told The Charlotte Observer.
“It was just that sick feeling. I was trying to behave because there were so many people there, and they were filming it. I tried to keep my emotions intact.”
The 15-foot-tall bell tower was the oldest part of the church, located about a 120-mile drive northwest from Charlotte.
It dates “at least” to the early 1920s, when the original building served as the valley’s schoolhouse, church officials said. The congregation bought the site in 1924 and expanded it to accommodate the hundreds who came for century-old traditions like the annual “Bee Tree Family Reunion.”
The closest creek is 75 yards away, and the church wasn’t considered to be in the 100-year floodplain, but that changed after Helene, officials said.
The storm dumped 30 inches of water on the valley, causing creeks, streams and rivers to reach levels never before seen. Landslides followed, sending boulders into the nearby reservoir.
Three feet of water filled the church, but it was trees carried by the flood that did most of the damage, slamming into the sides and knocking out walls.
When the water subsided, a member of the congregation was found dead in his pajamas, pinned to a tree behind the sanctuary, Hillerman says. Two other bodies were discovered behind the church, but Hillerman still isn’t sure of their identities.
Helene-related mishaps killed more than 108 people in North Carolina and 43 of them were in Buncombe County where the church is located, the state reports.
Even more heartbreak
The congregation hopes to rebuild the church, but they’re starting from scratch.
A $1.2 million insurance policy had been secured for the structure, but the insurance company refused to pay, Hillerman says.
“It broke our hearts,” he said. “They sent someone and told us: ‘That’s the flood plain, and you don’t have flood insurance.’ Well, it’s the flood plain now. It wasn’t before. We contacted the state to see about it, and they said: ‘Sorry, you have to do whatever the insurance company says.’”
The only structure on site that survived was a picnic shelter, and it has now become the seed from which the congregation hopes to grow.
A foyer will be built beside the shelter, with four columns holding the old steeple 30 feet high, church officials say. Stained-glass windows salvaged from the church will be installed on the sides, but the foyer will remain without walls, Hillerman said.
Valley Hope Foundation in Black Mountain is leading the project and will soon load the steeple onto the bed of a truck to be hauled seven miles to a warehouse. It will undergo refurbishing and be stored there for safety until the foyer is built.
A completion date has not been released, and it’s possible some members of the church won’t live to see it. The congregation has shrunk by half since the storm, and many are over 60.
However, backers of the steeple project say it’s more about the community’s faith and its resilience.
“The bell has rung every Sunday for almost 100 years, along with big events, like fires and emergencies when we needed to evacuate the area,” Hillerman said.
“No matter what happened, someone stayed at the church and rang the bell constantly. You could hear it a mile away. That bell is what brought people together for years.”
How to help
Donations to help build the steeple foyer can be made to Valley Hope Foundation. To donate online, visit Valleyhopefoundation.org/donate. For details, visit Valleyhopefoundation.org or call 838-771-6162.
This story was originally published January 15, 2026 at 6:00 AM.